The Final Cut

During my month in the Marine Corps — summer 1984 — I met one guy I could consider a friend, though I never saw him again after we came home.  I wanna say his name was Steve or Scott — maybe it was Steve Scott — I can't remember for sure now.

Anyway, we talked about how much we loved Pink Floyd — how we both considered the band's Roger Waters our favorite songwriter (my first "favorite poet") — and he couldn't believe I hadn't yet heard their 1983 album The Final Cut, which he insisted was their best work ever.

So I came home and bought the cassette and fell in love with it.  Lots of memories associated with it — including a major falling out later that year that's mostly healed.  The whole album — particularly the title track — is still particularly meaningful to me on a number of levels.

 
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