THERE it was, right in front of my face, everything that made me fall in love with rock’n’ roll in the first place.
When David Gilmour took the stage on Sunday night at the Paramount Theatre in Oakland, I was overwhelmed by flashbacks — none of which had anything to do with drugs. I was immediately transported back to a time in my life when rock music sounded so exciting, majestic and, well, important.
The guitarist-vocalist of Pink Floyd managed to make rock music sound that way once again during his triumphant show in Oakland.
What’s really impressive is he accomplished that feat without ever coming across like a mere nostalgia act. To the contrary, the new tunes possessed the same elegance and power as the old favorites. That’s an incredibly hard trick for a classic rock act of Gilmour’s stature to pull off.
In a world where very few things live up their hype, the 60-year-old rocker definitely surpassed all expectations. And, believe me, expectations were mighty high.
Gilmour doesn’t tour often and releases new albums with even less frequency. His latest CD “On an Island” is his first solo outing since 1984’s “About Face.” Combine that with the fact he hasn’t put out a new Pink Floyd disc since 1994’s “The Division Bell” and you’ve got a ridiculously long recording drought.
That’s one of the reasons why fans quickly snatched up all the tickets for Gilmour’s shows Sunday and Monday at the Paramount. But the other reasons were even more important — and they were all fully on display on Sunday.
The first sound of the night was a heartbeat, which immediately caused the crowd’s collective pulse to quicken. The throbbing sound effect signaled a trip to “The Dark Side of the Moon,” the 1973 epic that remains Pink Floyd’s crowning artistic and commercial achievement.
Gilmour used “Breathe” and “Time” to fully draw the fans into the show, playing them much like they sound on “Dark Side.” Then, with listeners in the palm of his hand, he fast-forwarded 33 years and performed the 10-track “On an Island” in its entirety.
Anyone who assumed that would mean a drop in intensity was happily mistaken. Gilmour performed this segment like a man on a mission, which, I guess, was to show that his new album deserved to be mentioned in the same sentence as such Floyd masterpieces as 1971’s “Meddle” and 1979’s “The Wall.”
And, for at least one night, it did.
My initial impression of “On an Island” was that it’s a good, not great, CD. In concert, though, the same songs found new life and energy, and made me revaluate my assessment of the album.
Gilmour’s lead on “Castellorizon” was nothing short of spectacular. In the space of roughly a single minute, he was able to say more than most guitarists do during entire careers. He continued to soar along, buoyed by piercing notes and dramatic runs, with the new album’s title track.
After taking a spin on sax in “Red Sky at Night,” the multi-talented Gilmour returned to guitar and poured his soul into “Then I Close My Eyes” and “A Pocketful of Stones.” He finished up the album, and the first set, with a grand take on “Where We Start.”
To borrow from the lyrics to “Have a Cigar”: Gilmour’s band is just fantastic. That is really what I think. Oh, by the way, it doesn’t matter which one’s Pink.
What did matter was that his group included Richard Wright, keyboardist for Pink Floyd. Also of note, Gilmour was aided by the great guitarist Phil Manzanera of Roxy Music fame. The chance to see Manzanera and Gilmour — two of the finest guitarists in rock history — share the stage was almost too good to be true.
Having heard the new album in its entirety during the first set, fans knew they were in for some heavy Floyd action in the second half. But unless they had scanned setlists from previous stops on this tour, they couldn’t have predicted what Floyd tunes Gilmour would play.
Instead of feeding the crowd with a strict diet of greatest hits, the artist skillfully mixed fan favorites with lesser-known gems. That translated to great versions of such relative obscurities as “Wots … Uh the Deal” (from 1972’s “Obscured by Clouds”), “Dominoes” (a track written by original Floyd member Syd Barrett) and “High Hopes” (from “The Division Bell”).
That batch was sandwiched by two absolute monster tunes — the bright, spacey opener, “Shine on You Crazy Diamond,” and the 20-minute-plus closing number, “Echoes.”
The exuberant applause was still echoing through the building when the band returned and delivered a two-song encore of “Wish You Were Here” and “Comfortably Numb.”
The guitar part that ends “Comfortably Numb” is widely considered Gilmour’s greatest solo, although I would counter with the one that finishes off “Have a Cigar.” At the Paramount, Gilmour bettered the version featured on “The Wall” and put on a fretboard display that dropped every jaw in the house.
Gilmour’s evening-ending solo — much like the rest of the concert — managed to make rock music sound so exciting, majestic and, well, important.
And it made me fall in love with the genre all over again.
Write music critic Jim Harrington at jharrington@angnewspapers.com. For more concert coverage, visit http://www.insidebayarea.com/music.
