Like spoken liner notes; the estranged musicians behind one of classic rock's best acts sit down to chat about the moods, conflicts and sounds that went into one of their seminal albums. Less technical than the preceding Making of The Dark Side of the Moon, it's more invested in uncovering the messages and meanings behind each track than the efforts that went into producing the finished sound. It still spends some time unraveling the aural onion skin behind an enormous mixing board, but Waters, Gilmour and company are caught in a more reflective, philosophical mood that delves into the recurring themes of the album, rather than the motions they were making with their hands. As usual, the band is anything but level-headed, but beyond their superficial egotism lies a dense, intellectual shared nature with plenty of wisdom and substantial meaning to share. They're smart, deep guys, but god are they in love with themselves. Nevertheless, it's bittersweet commentary on a bittersweet record, which speaks volumes (both directly and indirectly) about where the band had been and the dark clouds that were already forming on their horizon.