interviews
New York Times, februari 1995
report on the Enigma
by Neil Strauss
februari 1995
A Riddle Continues
If you examine the booklet that accompanies the December release of Pink Floyd's 1984 album, "Momentary Lapse of Reason," on minidisk (a digital alternative to the cassette), on the sixth page, in the corner of a picture of a man standing on a cliff, you'll find the word "enigma" printed in small white capital letters. Eight pages later, printed in the corner of a picture of a man standing in a wheat field with a scythe, you'll find the word "Publius." There is no apparent reason for the recent addition of these words to the packaging, but their presence has stimulated an odd treasure hunt that has been taking place on the Internet since the summer.
It was then that someone using the pseudonym Publius began posting messages at the computer address alt.music.pink-floyd, a Pink Floyd discussion group, claiming that in the artwork, lyrics, and music of Pink Floyd's latest album, "The Division Bell," there was a puzzle with "a central purpose and a designed solution." "For those of you willing to think through this perplexing and intricate problem," Publius wrote, "a singular prize awaits."
To satisfy skeptics who doubted his or her connection to Pink Floyd, Publius promised to put all doubts to rest on July 18 in East Rutherford, N.J. During a Pink Floyd concert at Giants Stadium that night, Publius kept the promise, and in the middle of the song "Keep Talking," from "The Division Bell," the bank of small lights at the bottom of Pink Floyd's stage arranged to form the words "Enigma Publius," a phrase that had not been spelled out in lights on any previous stop on the tour. In November, during Pink Floyd's pay-per- view concert, the word "enigma" appeared again, this time in large letters on a projection behind the band.
In a letter I received last year after interviewing the members of Pink Floyd, a group of treasure hunters who called themselves the Publius Concern explained that "hundreds of people have begun exchanging ideas and looking further into the puzzle" but that they were wondering whether the band itself was behind this brain teaser. The letter, which came with hundreds of pages of Internet postings on the subject, asked if anyone in the band had talked about the puzzle.
The only one who had hinted at mysteries on the album was David Gilmour, Pink Floyd's guitarist and lyricist. When asked about the unusual sounds on the record, like atmospheric radio noise and a phone conversation between the manager and the son of his girlfriend, Mr. Gilmour said, "I like puzzling people." When asked whether certain songs were about the group's former leader, Roger Waters, he answered with an elusive smile: "Are they? You'll just have to work it out for yourself."
Other attempts to pin down the meanings of songs resulted in sim- ilarly vague answers about "clues" to be given in forthcoming videos and promises that "there's all sorts of other things" on the album.
When Steve O'Rourke, who manages the band, was asked about the Publius enigma, he replied with a wordless smile, a response often given by managers of big rock bands when they are asked about anything from rumors of hotel-room romps to space-alien abductions.
It remains unclear what the puzzle is and whether Publius is a band member, an employee of the band's, a lone prankster or a record promoter, but that hasn't discouraged people like Mark Brown, a technician at the University of Iowa who estimates that he spends 40 hours a week working on the riddle. In the meantime, as Publius continues to post vague, pretentiously worded clues on the Internet and Pink Floyd fans continue to explore the minutiae of "The Division Bell," the public will have to wait until the spring release of Pink Floyd's next record, a live two-CD set culled from the band's recent tour (including a performance of the entire "Dark Side of the Moon" album), to find out whether Publius will strike again.
march 1995
