In the grand, echoing cathedral of rock and roll history, few voices—both literal and instrumental—resonate with the profound melancholy and soaring brilliance of David Gilmour. As the guitarist and often reluctant co-pilot of Pink Floyd, his hands and voice sculpted the soundscapes that defined a generation and continue to mesmerize millions. Now, at 79, the man who made his guitar weep, rage, and sing has looked back across the great expanse of his career and chosen the five definitive Pink Floyd tracks that he holds dearest.

This isn’t just a playlist from a rock icon; it’s a map of his soul. It’s a curated journey through triumph, loss, and the haunting spectre of absence that fueled so much of the band’s greatest work. For fans who have spent a lifetime deciphering the band’s intricate lyrics and cosmic sounds, Gilmour’s list is a rare and intimate glimpse into the heart of the artist himself. The choices are not merely a collection of hits but a deeply personal narrative, revealing the moments that have echoed loudest in his own life.

1. “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” (Parts I-IX)

It is perhaps no surprise that Gilmour’s list begins here. “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” is more than a song; it’s an elegy, a nine-part psychedelic symphony for a lost friend. The track, which bookends the 1975 album Wish You Were Here, is a sprawling, heartbreaking tribute to Syd Barrett, the band’s brilliant, troubled founder who had receded into mental illness years prior.

Gilmour’s contribution to this masterpiece is legendary, beginning with the iconic four-note guitar phrase—the “Syd’s Theme”—that emerges from the ethereal synthesizer wash like a ghost in the machine. It’s a sound filled with longing and a quiet, dignified grief. Gilmour has often spoken of the moment Syd himself, almost unrecognizable, wandered into the Abbey Road studio session during the mixing of this very song. The cosmic coincidence was a devastatingly poignant moment for the band, forever cementing the track’s emotional weight. For Gilmour, “Shine On” represents the pinnacle of Pink Floyd’s collaborative genius and a musical farewell to the man who started it all. It’s a testament to their ability to translate profound, complex emotions into a universal sonic language.

2. “Wish You Were Here”

Following logically and emotionally from “Shine On,” the album’s title track is another piece inextricably linked to the shadow of Syd Barrett and the band’s growing disillusionment with the music industry. “Wish You Were Here” is a masterclass in emotional restraint and lyrical vulnerability, a rare instance of Roger Waters and David Gilmour sharing a deep, collaborative songwriting credit on such a personal piece.

The song’s famous opening, recorded to sound like it’s being played on a distant, crackling AM radio before blooming into full studio fidelity, perfectly captures the theme of absence and emotional distance. Gilmour’s acoustic guitar work is both delicate and powerful, a warm, folksy bedrock for one of his most soulful vocal performances. His subsequent acoustic solo is a thing of simple, rustic beauty. While Waters penned the stark, poignant lyrics (“We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year”), it’s Gilmour’s weary, heartfelt delivery that makes you feel the emptiness in the room. This song is a campfire lament for a lost connection, and its inclusion on Gilmour’s list underscores its timeless, universal appeal and its deep personal significance.

3. “Comfortably Numb”

If there is one song that defines David Gilmour’s identity as a guitar god, it is “Comfortably Numb.” The crown jewel of 1979’s magnum opus, The Wall, the track is famed for possessing not one, but two of the most celebrated guitar solos in rock history. The song itself is a perfect encapsulation of the creative friction between Gilmour and Waters, a tension that produced moments of unparalleled genius.

The track originated from a demo Gilmour had created during his first solo album, a wordless chord progression that he felt was too good to leave behind. Waters, initially resistant, saw its potential and wrote the haunting lyrics, framing the piece as a dark dialogue between a catatonic rock star, Pink, and a doctor trying to revive him for a show. Gilmour’s melodic, ethereal chorus (“There is no pain, you are receding…”) provides a stark, beautiful contrast to Waters’ detached, clinical verses. But it is the solos that elevate the song into legend. The first is a lyrical, beautifully constructed warmup; the second is an explosive, cathartic release of emotion that feels like a supernova of pain, anger, and transcendent release. It is Gilmour at his absolute peak, a moment where the guitar becomes a primal extension of human feeling.

4. “High Hopes”

Perhaps the most revealing choice on Gilmour’s list is “High Hopes,” the closing track from 1994’s The Division Bell, the second album from the post-Waters era of Pink Floyd. This song is distinctly Gilmour’s, both musically and thematically. It’s a sweeping, cinematic piece that finds him looking back from the vantage point of age and success to his formative years in Cambridge.

Co-written with his wife, Polly Samson, the lyrics are steeped in nostalgia, a wistful reflection on the boundless optimism of youth and the long, winding path that led away from it. “The grass was greener / The light was brighter / With friends surrounded / The nights of wonder.” The song serves as a powerful bookend to the Pink Floyd story, its melancholic grandeur echoing the themes of time and mortality found in The Dark Side of the Moon. The tolling bell that opens and closes the track feels like a final curtain call. For Gilmour, “High Hopes” is a deeply personal statement, a summary of his own journey and a powerful assertion of the band’s enduring musical identity under his leadership.

5. “The Great Gig in the Sky”

Gilmour’s final choice is a fascinating one, as it highlights his admiration for the contributions of his bandmates. “The Great Gig in the Sky,” from The Dark Side of the Moon, is a composition penned by the late, great keyboardist Richard Wright. It is a song without words, a meditative piece on mortality that is carried into the stratosphere by one of the most astonishing vocal performances ever recorded.

Clare Torry, a session singer, was brought in and famously told to sing not with words, but with pure emotion—to think about death and despair. The result was an improvised, wordless wail of grief, fear, and ecstatic release that remains utterly breathtaking. Gilmour’s role in the song is more subtle, his pedal steel guitar providing a gentle, weeping counterpoint to Wright’s funereal piano progression. By choosing this track, Gilmour is paying homage to the collective spirit of Pink Floyd, acknowledging that the band’s magic was never just about one or two members, but about the unique alchemy of all of them. It’s a humble, beautiful choice that celebrates the pure, unadulterated power of music to convey what words cannot.

This list, carefully curated by the man who gave Pink Floyd its voice, is more than just a collection of great songs. It is a reflection. It is the sound of a man looking back at the monolith he helped build and pointing to the cornerstones that mean the most, not because they sold the most records, but because they hold the echoes of a friend, the fire of creation, and the long, bittersweet journey of a lifetime.