MOST drivers choking up the A308 near Hampton Court are probably unaware of the musical artefact moored on the Thames riverside just a few metres to their south. Hidden away near Tagg’s Island, the Astoria houseboat was built for music-hall impresario and Chaplin mentor Fred Karno in 1911, with an interior bursting with prime Edwardiana and enough space on the roof for a full orchestra. Whether David Gilmour, who’s owned the Astoria since the mid-’80s, has tried out that last feature is unclear; yet we do know he’s used the boat, below decks, to develop much of his and Pink Floyd’s work over the past 35 years.

“The boat is moored at the bottom of a beautiful, sort of Capability Brown garden,” explains Floyd collaborator Anthony Moore, “with a tunnel that goes under a busy road and comes up the other side of a beautiful brick wall that keeps the world at bay. It’s all rather idyllic.”

It was in these bucolic surroundings that Gilmour embarked on the recordings that would become 1987’s A Momentary Lapse Of Reason, the first new Pink Floyd album since 1983’s The Final Cut, and first without Roger Waters.

“We decided [to continue],” Gilmour told Uncut, “at the moment Roger sent his letter to the record company saying that he forthwith was no longer a part of this thing. That was in December 1985. Pretty much right after that we felt we were released from anything, and we could start making a plan to look forward to making an album.”

The obstacles in Gilmour’s way, though, were numerous. For a start, he wasn’t used to working on Floyd songs as the sole writer, and he struggled with lyrics. What’s more, he and Nick Mason were the only remaining members of the band, and Mason was these days more into sampling than drumming. Perhaps most damagingly, the pair weren’t even sure they would be allowed to work under the Pink