Recording in the studio can be a daunting process, especially for new bands trying to replicate their live energy in a tightly controlled environment. Even the most seasoned musicians can falter under the microscope of studio perfectionism. For Roger Waters, never the most technically gifted member of Pink Floyd, those sessions often came with added pressure—especially when he was the one stepping up to the microphone.
By the late 1970s, Waters had evolved into the band’s chief creative force, steering their thematic direction with albums like Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, Animals, and The Wall. While his lyrical concepts and grand visions helped define the group’s identity, his voice wasn’t always the centerpiece. That role largely belonged to David Gilmour, whose smoother, more expressive vocals often brought Waters’ ideas to life.
Though Dark Side of the Moon had shared vocal duties more evenly, Waters’ vocal style—tense, theatrical, sometimes monotone—became more prominent by The Wall. Tracks like “Sheep” and large swaths of The Wall leaned into that harsh, almost spoken-word delivery, a stark contrast to Gilmour’s soulful tone. Still, the success of the band’s rock opera gave Waters the confidence to take his creative ambitions into his solo career.
But without the checks and balances of his bandmates, that confidence didn’t always translate to greatness. His first solo release, The Pros and Cons of Hitch Hiking, boasted a guest appearance by Eric Clapton but fell short of the standard set by Pink Floyd’s earlier work. Many fans found the album overly dense and lacking the musical cohesion Gilmour helped bring to the band.
That said, Waters’ actual first solo project had technically already been released—under the Pink Floyd name. The Final Cut, often viewed as a continuation of The Wall, consisted of material that didn’t make the previous album. With Richard Wright already ousted from the band, tensions between Waters and Gilmour were at a breaking point, and the studio sessions for The Final Cut reflected that.
Looking back, Waters admitted he had a hard time listening to himself on the record. “The Final Cut was absolute misery to make,” he once confessed. “Although I listened to it of late and I rather like a lot of it. But I don’t like my singing on it. You can hear the mad tension running through it all.” That internal pressure, he explained, made it difficult to express the emotion he wanted, describing the sessions as “a horrible time.”
Much of the tension stemmed from creative control. With Waters taking full charge and Gilmour pushing back, the band dynamic had all but collapsed. The Final Cut, despite some standout guitar moments, largely felt like a Waters solo album in everything but name. In hindsight, it was the final straw for the classic lineup—cementing the rift between Waters and Gilmour.
While Waters remained steadfast in his artistic vision, many fans and critics see The Final Cut as one of the band’s most divisive albums. Perhaps if the power struggle had eased, Pink Floyd’s legacy might have included a few more masterpieces with both Waters’ ambition and Gilmour’s melodic sensibility working in harmony.
