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For those of us old enough to have seen the original acts in their heyday (in my case Genesis at U de M in '74, Led Zeppelin at the Forum in '75, Pink Floyd in '73, '75 and '77), tribute bands like The Musical Box, Led Zepplica and the Australian Pink Floyd deliver charming chunks of nostalgia for about ten times the price printed on our original ticket stubs.

Sometimes the irony runs even deeper than that.

This week the Bell Centre hosted a major concert spectacle — Australian Pink Floyd performing a faithful recreation of The Wall as presented by the original Pink Floyd in 1980. This is the first time that show has been performed in Montreal, for the original Pink Floyd never played here on their limited North American tour — and for good reason.

Nearly 30 years on, The Wall remains one of the most successful double albums of all time, although it was not the band's best effort. That distinction will always belong to the magnificent Dark Side of the Moon, which will probably never be surpassed in terms of artistic and commercial success.

The Wall was never among my favourite albums, in fact I remember writing a lukewarm review when it was first released for the 1979 Christmas rush, complaining that it barely offered enough musical sustenance for a single album, let alone a four-sided extravaganza of bassist Roger Waters's autobiographical self-indulgence. But since then, I have come to feel very close to the whole project.

As it turned out, I happened to be just a few feet away when The Wall was first conceived.

In early July 1977, Pink Floyd ended their North American 'Animals' tour with a massive show at the still-far-from-completed Olympic Stadium in front of an estimated 100,000 people. The significance of that one gig cannot be overstated, for it not only marked the last time the band would function as a primarily four-man unit, but it also sparked a whole new era that would ultimately lead to The Wall saga and Pink Floyd's demise.

My friends and I got to the Big O early, and were able to claim a spot right in front of the stage, where we knew from experience that all the action would be — from the thickest dry-ice smoke to an explosive plane crash at the beginning of 'Time'.

Unfortunately, a few rowdies near us were clearly intent on making noise and disrupting the show, setting off firecrackers in front of the stage and making a nuisance of themselves in general. This continued for the first few songs until finally, right in the middle of his solo performance of 'Pigs on the Wing', an exasperated Roger Waters stopped playing and began swearing at the offenders, warning them that if they continued, the show was over. Some say he also spat at them, but I didn't see that — I was too busy looking around for an escape route in case we ended up in the middle of Montreal's answer to Altamont.

Luckily, the show proceeded from there without incident and everyone went home happy, except for Waters, who went back to England with the idea of building a massive wall between the band and the audience — and thus The Wall was born.

The irony of The Wall being performed in Montreal would have been deliciously complete if the show had been booked into Olympic Stadium, but even at the more intimate Bell Centre, it is doubtful if more than a handful of ticket holders were aware of Montreal's key yet dubious role in the creation of this significant cultural milestone.