#david gilmour icons

[rock-aesthetic-y]

Coquette 🎀🩰💗

Pink Floyd

[lennonblues]

everyone knows about #that young lust performance from the wall tour but nobody ever talks about this insane version of run like hell where roger is literally losing his mind

[pinkfloydhq]

David Gilmour 🎧

[ludmilachaibemachado]

Paul McCartney and David Gilmour at Knebworth music festival, 1976⭐️⭐️⭐️

Via @paul_macca_beatles on Instagram⭐️🌟

[pinkfloyd-musicartnaturelove]

David Gilmour (1969-70).

[anycolouryoulike2]

Young Lust 1980

[gilmourist]

David Gilmour believes in the power of simplicity—just a few musicians in the studio, capturing pure sound and emotion. With a sparse setup and the right vibe, less truly becomes more.

https://www.jonsguitarlounge.com/

[nour-rodriguez]

Now Available on prints on REDBUBBLE Themes from Pink Floyd’s Songs  Artwork by Nour Rodriguez

[ablogofcourage]

[musiclandoux]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by every single guitars. (@everysingleguitars)

: 🎼🖤🎼

David Gilmour’s Iconic Black Strat up at auction

Sold : $3 million 300 thousand

June 20, 2019 at Christie's in New York City

[jmunneytumbler]

Entertainment To-Do List: Week of 9/6/24

I’m on the Hunt for some good entertainment this week (CREDIT: Jon Pack/A24) Every week, I list all the upcoming (or recently released) movies, TV shows, albums, podcasts, etc. that I believe are worth checking out. Movies –Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (Theaters) –The Front Room (Theaters) – Kathryn Hunter as Brandy’s mother-in-law. TV –Whose Line Is It Anyway? Season Premiere (September 6 on The…

[pinkfloydhq]

David Gilmour, Pink Floyd 🎧

[ludmilachaibemachado]

Via The Beatles FB🌼🌼🌼

[pinkfloyd-musicartnaturelove]

Couple old rock stars hobnobbing. David Gilmour & Robert Plant.

[accessant]

[tavolgisvist]

You Tell Me

When was that summer when the skies were blue? The bright red cardinal flew down from his tree You tell me When was that summer when it never rained? The air was buzzin' with the sweet old honey bee Let's see You tell me Were we there, was it real? Is it truly how I feel? Maybe You tell me Were we there, is it true? Was I really there with you? Let's see You tell me When was that summer of a dozen words? The butterflies and hummingbirds flew free Let's see You tell me Let's see You tell me

“I was really happy he [David Khane] let me include the count-in. It’s iconic.”

(Paul McCartney about You Tell Me recording)

A lovely sunny summer day. Once again, I was out at John’s house in Weybridge. <…> Around that time there was quite a spate of summer songs. ‘Daydream’ and ‘Summer in the City’ by The Lovin’ Spoonful, The Kinks’ ‘Sunny Afternoon’ – I think all those came out during the same year, 1966. We wanted to write something sunny. Both John and I had grown up while the music hall tradition was still very vibrant, so it was always in the back of our minds. There are lots of songs about the sun, and they make you happy: ‘The Sun Has Got His Hat On’ or ‘On the Sunny Side of the Street’. It was now time for us to do ours. So we’ve got love and sun, what more do we want? ‘We take a walk, the sun is shining down / Burns my feet as they touch the ground’ – that was a nice memory of summer. ‘Then we’d lie beneath a shady tree / I love her and she’s loving me’. It’s really a very happy song.

(Paul McCartney about Good Day Sunshine (1966), The Lyrics, 2021)

There's that old Maurice Chevalier song from Gigi called 'I remember It Well', which goes, ‘We met at nine, we met at eight, I was on time, no, you were late / Ah, yes, I remember it well’. I love that. A great little routine. The man in the song doesn’t quite remember, but the woman does, and ‘You Tell Me’ is a little bit like that. This is just memory. Often I think, ‘Oh my God, I really met Elvis Presley. I was really in his house, and it was a moment in time that really happened.’ That’s all there is to it. It just happened. Sometimes I pinch myself and think, ‘Was I really on the same couch as Elvis, talking about this stuff?’ I want to remember it three hundred per cent more; I want to bring it back: ‘Were we there, was it real? / Is it truly how I feel? / Maybe / You tell me’. <…> Because Linda’s father had a place in the Hamptons, I started going out there with her. That’s way over forty years ago – could be over fifty. I think that’s also where I wrote this, sometime in the early 2000s, and perhaps where the line about the red cardinal came from too, since you see them out there. ‘When was that summer of a dozen words?’ When everything’s going really well, nobody needs to talk, so you may just be sitting around with someone and reading books, or reading a newspaper, and you hardly even speak because there’s no need to; you’re in such a comfortable situation. ‘When was that summer when it never rained?’ I like that I’m not even going to try and remember what year it was. I remember hearing a story in the 1960s, when everyone was looking towards India and Indian mysticism, of some guy who was visiting a friend, and he came into the room and just sat down in a corner, and they didn’t speak. The idea was they were such good friends that they wouldn’t speak until someone had something to say. It wouldn’t just be, ‘What did you think of the football the other day?’ They were absolutely in each other’s presence, not needing to say anything. When they spoke it had to be meaningful. I liked the image of the peacefulness in that room. David Gilmour and Paul Weller, a couple of musicians whose opinion I value, independently sent me messages to say, ‘Wow, I like that one’ – to say that this song was one of their favourites of mine. Your main feedback is generally from critics, so it’s nice to get responses from people who’ve heard the song, especially real musicians, and were affected enough that they can be bothered to actually write to you. These days, it’s a message on your phone; there aren’t many people now who would sit down with beautiful old Basildon Bond stationery and expand it a bit. I don’t do too much letter writing myself anymore, but I have to admit I do like handwriting. I enjoyed being taught it at school, and I had a ‘proper’ way of handwriting. I miss the old stationery. I love the civility of letter writing. George Martin always wrote a letter to thank me for his birthday gift. We’d done ‘When I’m Sixty-Four’ together, so I would always send a birthday bottle of wine, and he would handwrite me a very elegant note. It was always a delight. In fact, I’ve kept most of them. George’s widow, Lady Judy Martin, has the same sensibility. It was very much what you did when I was growing up, but also, a certain class did it. I don’t know of many of my working-class friends in the street who did it, but my family did, and I had friends later, who lived in places like Hampstead, who would open their mail in the morning and answer it. They had one of those little envelope slitters, and they would be quite organised: ‘Dear Henry, What a surprise to hear from you. I was thinking of you only the other day . . .’ I like the civility of that. You know, the working-class equivalent of letters was the postcard. You used to write and try to be amusing. That’s when you could say things like, ‘The air was buzzing with the sweet old honeybee’. Now we have Instagram, but the postcard was the Instagram of its day.

(Paul McCartney about You Tell Me (2007), The Lyrics, 2021)

Lying behind the phrase ‘We’re on our way home’ is less the literal sense of going back to London, but more about trying to get in touch with the people we once were. The postcard sending does have a very literal feel, though. Whenever Linda and I went away, we would buy lots of postcards and send them to all our friends. John was also a great postcard sender, so you’d get some great stuff from him.

(Paul McCartney about Two Of Us (1969), The Lyrics, 2021)