Pink Floyd's bitterest sermon divides humanity into Orwellian livestock across three sprawling prog-rock exorcisms, with Roger Waters' contempt for the exploiters and exploited alike dripping from every synthesiser snarl and Gilmour guitar laceration. Recorded at their own Britannia Row, it's simultaneously their most claustrophobic and spacious work, trading Wish You Were Here's melancholy for genuine misanthropy.

The inflatable pig that escaped during the Battersea Power Station photoshoot and disrupted Heathrow flights remains the perfect metaphor for an album where cynicism literally broke free from its moorings.