Out of great respect for Roger Waters, I gave this album a try. Needless to say, much as I love Floyd and Waters, this was the worst album my expectant ears ever had the misfortune to hear. A pre-schooler could concoct more rhythm and melody than what Waters gave us on this solo outing, and I'm positively mystified by all these rave reviews for this album. Talk about resting on your laurels and trying to do the whole thing yourself! "The Wall" wouldn't have been half as good without David Gilmour and Bob Ezrin, and this stinking, vile excuse for an album is the fool-on proof. Sterile to the point of agonizing boredom, with lyrics and a voice so cryptic you want to slap the guy out of his self-possessed sense of being, not once semblance of an original riff, despite Eric Clapton's "invaluable" help, this album goes nowhere at a pace of 1 mile per hour. I don't care how deep, smart, or how good of a lyricist Roger Waters is, if the music ain't somewhat sonically good, what's the point? His entire genius is wasted on empty albums like this. You'd think that after years of great associations and albums.......Oh, forget it. If this is what it takes to be musically cerebral, count me out.