More about: Pink Floyd

I think I first heard it in 2011; “If you watch The Wizard of Oz with The Dark Side of the Moon in the background, it works perfectly.” 

By now it’s almost become a stoner cliché, with most accepting the phenomenon as simply an esoteric, psychedelic way to spend an evening, and a vocal minority taking the exercise a whole lot more seriously.  They may be few and far between, but there absolutely are fanatics out there who think that by watching the 1939 film with the Pink Floyd album in the background, they’ve somehow unlocked a secret ‘true’ meaning to the music. 

I’d never actually attempted it myself, though I remember speaking about it often with my friend Simon* back at Sixth Form College, with whom I’d formed a band. He played drums and I was the lead singer. We were 16 and discovering ourselves for the first time, burning incense in our bedrooms, smoking our first fragrant cigarettes, and taking showers less often than we should have been. I even had a cowboy hat phase.

I don’t see Simon as often as I’d like anymore, but when Gigwise asked me to write a piece about the Wizard of Oz/Dark Side of the Moon effect, I knew I had to invite him over to share the experience with me. 

When we sat down to watch the movie, I really wasn’t sure what to expect, but The Wizard of Oz is unironically one of my favourite films of all time, and I love The Dark Side of the Moon, so I figured I had nothing to lose by combining them. I found a guide online with instructions on when to start playing the album (the third roar of the MGM lion), I muted my TV, put on the subtitles, and we got started. 

I have to admit that the record’s first two tracks, ‘Speak to Me’ and ‘Breathe’ both work well over the opening credits, even if the anachronism is a little jarring. But then just a few minutes in, the first problem arrives. While Judy Garland’s Dorothy is singing ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow, Pink Floyd’s ‘On the Run’ plays in the background. ‘Somewhere in the Rainbow’ is a timeless masterpiece – perhaps the greatest song ever written in any genre – while ‘On the Run’ is the most dated-sounding piece of ephemera on The Dark Side of the Moon. I hadn’t stopped to consider before starting the exercise that The Wizard of Oz is a musical, and that I’d end up hearing the lyrics of its songs as I read along on-screen. The effect is distracting, disorientating, nauseating even. I feel pulled in all directions.

Then suddenly, the first notable bit of synchronicity takes place. As the hurricane that whisks Dorothy off to Oz begins, so does ‘The Great Gig in the Sky’, with its ferocious, foreboding instrumental and restless lead vocal from Clare Torry. The hurricane and the song last almost exactly the same amount of time. I’m instantly converted. 

When Dorothy arrives in the Munchkin City, we’re met with Pink Floyd’s ‘Money’. I’m on side now, straining desperately to find a connection between what I’m hearing and what I’m seeing. “Come out, come out, wherever you are”, the Good Witch Glinda is singing. Once again I lose faith. Simon and I are chatting over the music here and there, admiring the munchkins’ haircuts and the song’s 7/4 time signature. At this point, it starts to feel less like an avant-garde artistic experiment, and more like a time-saving exercise. Like we’re simply killing two birds with one stone by watching a movie at the same time as listening to an album. I’m reminded of those memes where people without attention spans watch Family Guy on their phones during movies. 

As Dorothy starts to follow the Yellow Brick Road, it becomes clear that the same experience could be achieved by watching The Wizard of Oz with almost any other studio album. I tell Simon that I feel we’d be experiencing the same serendipity if we paired the movie with James Blunt’s Back to Bedlam. He suggests I try it the following day. I didn’t, but somebody should. 

"It’s a bit like how, no matter how cynical you are about horoscopes, if you read something that fits, you can be converted, if only for a moment."

At about the point where Dorothy and the Scarecrow unite with the Tin Man, the album ends, since a studio album isn’t as long as a film (unless it’s 7G by AG Cook). As per the instructions I read, I’d already queued the album again. As it starts up again, the heartbeat at the start of the record syncs up almost perfectly with Dorothy knocking on the Tin Man’s heartless chest. Wow. 

I go back and forth like this throughout the movie – from dismissing the whole thing as a waste of time to noticing something sync up and regaining my enthusiasm. It’s a bit like how, no matter how cynical you are about horoscopes, if you read something that fits, you can be converted, if only for a moment. But it’s always worth remembering – a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day. 

Dorothy and co pick up the Lion and are approaching the Emerald City when Simon turns to me and says the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. Maybe all year. 

“So hang on…where are they all going?”

I’m gobsmacked. I slam my lager down on the coffee table and chuck my half-eaten slice of pizza back in its box. 

“They’re off to see the Wizard, Simon,” I say to him in disbelief. “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.”

“Oh yeah,” he says. 

It takes me a while to recover from this interaction. The Wizard of Oz has one of the simplest plots of any film in the history of cinema. A plot so simple in fact that each character spells out their motivation through a dedicated song. Perhaps for Simon though, the prog-rock magic of The Dark Side of the Moon has drowned all of Oz’s fairytale allegory out. From now on I choose to explain the film as it goes along. As the Wizard hands the Scarecrow his diploma I’m patiently breaking it down: “So the moral of the story is that really he had a brain all along”. Pink Floyd’s ‘On the Run’ is sound-tracking this but I hardly notice. 

There’s a final moment of synchronicity, with the lyrics “Home, home again” coinciding with Dorothy waking up in Kansas, before the movie ends, unceremoniously, mid-album. Both Simon and I feel underwhelmed. 

"Would I recommend experiencing them both together? No I would not. Am I glad I did it? No I am not."

There’s no doubt that The Dark Side of the Moon is one of the seminal albums of the 1970s, and that it’s had an immeasurable influence on rock and pop music since. Similarly, there’s no doubt that The Wizard of Oz is one of the most influential and ground-breaking films of the 20th century, inspired by one of the most iconic fantasy novels in human history. Would I recommend experiencing them both together? No I would not. Am I glad I did it? No I am not. 

Was it a good excuse to reunite with an old friend? Yes it was. After the experiment was over, Simon and I wandered down to the local pub to get involved in the open mic jam. For the first time in a decade, we played music with each other. I’d like to say we ended the evening aptly by performing a Pink Floyd song, but we didn’t – we played ‘Get Back’ by the Beatles. Because – in real life – things are rarely so serendipitous.

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More about: Pink Floyd