Roger Waters review – embattled singer vows ‘I will not be cancelled’

‘If you’re one of those ‘I love Pink Floyd but I can’t stand Roger’s politics’ people, then you might do well to fuck off to the bar,” announces the singer via a recorded message before the show. There isn’t a mass stampede, although the “can’t stand Roger’s politics” people have certainly been vocal lately. He’s been called an antisemite and “Putin apologist” by Polly Samson , wife of ex-bandmate David Gilmour, who gave her tweet his approval. Waters has condemned the invasion of Ukraine but been denounced in the country for also saying it “was not unprovoked”, views which led to Polish concerts being cancelled. He won a legal battle to perform in Frankfurt after more accusations of antisemitism (which he denies). Last week it was reported that German police are investigating him over a “Nazi-style” costume worn on stage in Berlin.

Here, Waters tackles all this head-on. A screened statement points out that a satirical “depiction of an unhinged fascist demagogue” has been part of his shows since The Wall in 1980 and that his father was killed fighting the Nazis. Then he launches into a 10-minute tirade in which he decries his “brutal” treatment in Germany and says that the Daily Mail, the Times and the Daily Telegraph are trying to destroy him over his support for human rights in Palestine. “They’re trying to cancel me like they cancelled Jeremy Corbyn and Julian Assange,” he rages. “I will not be cancelled.” By the time he thanks the crowd for their support, the 79-year-old is tearful. “I’m fucking dying here,” he pleads.

There’s no sign of the “Nazi-style” leather coat in this performance. Nor, unlike previous tours, is there a star of David on the Pink Floyd-style flying pig or any other antisemitic tropes. When Waters wades into the Palestine/Israel situation, it’s with a sensitivity he hasn’t always demonstrated. There are images of Palestinians living in shacks and the slogan “You can’t have humanitarian rights and an occupation.” Notably, among images of people murdered by authoritarian forces such as Blair Peach and 22-year old Iranian Mahsa Amini, there’s one of Anne Frank, above the words “Her crime? Being Jewish,” though to many, this might seem belated, even insultingly so.

As ever with Waters, much of the show veers between anti-war, anti-imperialist and humanitarian. A funereal version of Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb is illustrated by images of bombed out buildings, as if to suggest we’re numbed to warfare. Various US presidents are branded “war criminals”. Screen messages support everything from Black Lives Matter to trans rights. Some of the imagery – dollars for Money – feels a bit hokey, but the faces of children killed in war are haunting. Waters chillingly suggests “we’re closer to a nuclear confrontation than ever before”. However, apart from a screen slogan about “fucking oligarchs” and a fleeting image of Putin, references to Russia or Ukraine are conspicuously absent, which might be an attempt to defuse further controversy but seems an extraordinary omission from a supposed anti-war campaigner.

For all the sloganeering (“Fuck the patriarchy!”, “Free Assange!”, or “Control the narrative!” during Another Brick in the Wall) much of this show is personal. The new piano-led The Bar – composed in lockdown about the virtues of the pub – is lovely and there are touching reminiscences about Syd Barrett when they were kids. There’s lots to thrill the “I love Pink Floyd” people, with swathes of the classic Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here albums rendered by a stellar band. The latter’s title track, taken up by the entire crowd as a wider anthem of loss, is beautifully moving. The show is a triumph of staging, with remote-controlled flying sheep, cross-shaped screens the length of the arena and almost two and a half hours of music that ends with an ovation. Waters’ politics will continue to anger many, but anyone fleeing for the bar will miss a true spectacular.