But if they have, they hide it very well – with both prog noodling and movies with poop-eating transvestites being conspicuous by their absence in Waters’ hittish, trash-garage pop song For The One.
Of all the hyperbolic adjectives bandied around on ANBAD like confetti at an earthquake-stricken wedding, “crunchy” is surely my most lazily over-used. What music today, in the midst of a laptop compression free-for-all, isn’t crunchy?
But For The One is indeed crunchy: it positively showers its listeners with fragments as the song fragments: dense, endlessly satisfying and tactile.
Waters are the kind of grubby rock band that crops up with an alarming frequency – and usually the songs proffered simply aren’t up to scratch.
For The One isn’t just up to scratch, it’s burrowing deep grooves of thrilling, laser-focussed scuzzy pop and zapping them straight into our minds.
Nirvana’s Nevermind is 20 years old next month. People wonder what influence they have these days. Listen the pop songs Waters has built with dirt and grit and bite – and you’ll figure it out.