Review of Pink Floyd's The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn

Released 1967

"Across the stream with wooden shoes
With bells to tell the king the news
A thousand misty riders climb up
Higher once upon a time."

After being desparately disappointed with Ummagumma, I spent a long time neglecting the pre The Dark Side Of The Moon albums, focussing an unhealthy amount of time on The Wall in particular. Given that I spent an inordinate amount of time under my headphones, I swear for a while that I could hear Roger Water's manical screams as I went to sleep most nights. Not good.

I had read so much about Pink Floyd's first album, and was geniunely intrigued to see if all the fuss about Syd Barrett was warranted, but I was loathe to be let down once more. Everywhere I turned it was clear that it was considered to be a pivotal album. The fact that it was recorded at Abbey Road studios at the same time as Sgt. Pepper only added to the intrigue. But, and it was a big but; I hated the cover. I hated the cover because it was both a world away from the classic Hipgnosis styled seventies sleeves and because it was so 'fake' and mainstream. Where  the sleeve for The Dark Side Of The Moon was as sophisticated and cultured as the music within, I imagined that The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn would be annodine and uninspired. I knew that the photo session which produced the final sleeve image was shot on the same day the band appeared on Top Of The Pops, which in itself made me sneer in derision.

Being a cheapskate, I eventually succumbed due to the fact that I was able to snap up a new copy on Woolworth's 'Nice Price' label, complete with the yellow and black label which impossible to remove in it's entirety. Being a bargain reissue, this was a very glossy version knocked our as cheaply as possible by EMI with a plain white inner sleeve, no lyrics and no frills.

As well as being a cheapskate, I was a miserable pessimist who fully expected to be unimpressed, much as I was with Ummagumma. What I got instead was a real surprise. The spacemen sound effects at the beginning of Astronomy Domine rooted the album to the time of it's release which was at the height of the space race, capturing the zeitgeist instantaneously. I was delighted that the use of sound effects which were on later albums used as integrally as any instrument, were present at the onset of their recording career. Sound effects aside, this didn't have too much in common with anything else I had heard by the band thus far. Given my extensive reading about their early performances, I was quickly able to imagine this track being played live at The Roundhouse: along with wobbly light shows, yellow tinted glasses, velvet jackets and prolonged jangly bass driven solos. Gorgeous. I quickly felt foolish that I had somehow disregarded my obsession with the peiod over a terrible album cover and a poor reaction to Several Species Of Small Furry Animals.....

Lucifer Sam again was clearly a product of the age, showing a very different bass style from Roger. I love tthe phasing of the special effects tapes appearing seemingly at random. This was so obviously the product of a band that was - at the time, at least - in its element on stage.

Matilda Mother was in a similar vein, with added manic backing vocal and classi,c almost spoken lyric which was a common theme amongst their peers. Three tracks in and it was clear that Rick Wright's keyboard parts were as much a part of the signature early Floyd sound as Syd's lyrical and vocal styling. I couldn't distinguish Syd's vocal delivery from a dozen other singers of the age. That's not to say that I didn't appreciate it; more to point out that his real influence was in a creative sense: the central instrumental part of Flaming, for example was more prog than psychedelic space rock, and I couldn't help but think that Syd was steering them down this explorative path.

I loved Rick's jazzy keyboard and Nick's lazy drumming intro to Pow R, Torch H. When combined with Roger Water's trademark screams and some free form guitar work from Syd, this is, for me a real highlight; incredibly atmospheric, slightly scary and indoubtably extraordinarily innovative at the time.

I saw Take Up Thy Stethoscope and Walk as having a large Byrds influence in the guitar playing. Roger's bass playing is tremendous here also.

Interstellar Overdrive became a firm favourite of mine from the very first time I played it. It felt to me as though it was improvised in the studio, with Syd meandering over the huge filthy bass line. I used to regularily turn the volume up throughout this track to potentially dangerous levels whilst studying. It has thus become almost imprinted upon me note for note.

To be frank, The Gnome has always left me uninterested; I struggle to associate this as being a Pink Floyd track in any real sense. Again the whimsical nature of Chapter 24 is barely redeemed by the variety of keyboard styles (and a cowbell!) This was so utterly dominated by Syd's weirdness, which, to this day, I suppose I've never fully understood.

It's strange that 'Englishness' is often celebrated as a key feature of much of the best of prog. Where I will concur on this front with respect to bands like Genesis and Traffic, where the music is absolutely enhanced by the clear identity given by the band's origins, in the case of Syd Barrett era Pink Floyd, for me, it actively detracts from the appeal. However, I'm sure that I am in the minority in this regard.

That said, it is impossible not to like Bike for the very same reasons. The English eccentricity which infuses every aspect of this track makes it a fascinatingly odd and endearing piece.

Overall, this is one my of least played Floyd albums, but one I have a great affection for and wouldn't be without.
 

Review of Blind Faith's Blind Faith

Released 1969

"I'm taking the chance to see the wind in your eyes while I liste.
You say the can't reach me, but you want every word to be free.
Hard to cry today.
Well, I saw your sign and missed you there"

This is one of those albums which I have absolutlely no memory of physically buying. Given that I'm still at that phase in my chronology where I should be able to distinguish between whether or not a purchae was pre my time at University, I find this very odd.

Around this time, I was still largely unaware of Steve Winwood, other than his renowned talent as the teenaged front man of The Spencer Davis Group. I had heard of Traffic, but not heard any of their work. I had mixed opinion of Eric Clapton too. Through my obsession with Led Zeppelin and connection to Eric through The Yardbirds, I had collected most of EC's pre-Cream work, including the infamous 'Beano' Bluesbreakers record which inspired a whole generation of budding blues guitarists. I'm sure I would have had a Cream Greatest Hits of some descrition. I started to lose interest though with some of his seventies output; for instance I ended up becoming a  fan of The Allman Brothers on the back of Layla as oposed to seeing this as a masterwork of Claptons, while the drift towards MOR with the I Shot The Sherriff era of his work left me cold.

As such, I can't precisely place where and when I set out to purchase Blind Faith's eponyomous album. I can only assume that I was heavily influenced by a friend at University who had a strong devotion to the blueser end of the prog spectrum. We both loved Free for example. I know that he later introduced me to Traffic, therefore I can lay the blame squarely in his court.

To this day I am puzzled by the cover; both in terms of it's relevance to the musical content and how it remains uncensored when much less offensive pieces of sleeve art have fallen the way of the nanny state.

I didn't have too many preconceptions about the album prior to purchase and most likely saw it as one of those purchases which was almost expected: a record collection without a copy of Blind Faith was not a record collection which could be taken seriously.

My immediate reaction was one of huge surprise that I hadn't realised just how good Steve Winwood's voice was. As I had only known him as a mainstream pop artist, to hear such a strong blues rock voice was a real treat. His style bestrode so many genres; from psychedelia, across blues, mainstream classic rock whilst retaining a soulful quality. Had To Cry Today was more experimental than I expected; having much in common with the later drifting jams of The Allman Brothers, but with a more intense rhythm. Clapton's contribution was a simple yet effective recurring blues driven motif, which on first listen I thought was workmanlike, until he starts soloing in a way which I've never heard him play before or since; much more fluid with more space between the notes, fully embracing the hippy vibe. What really made me sit up and take notice was the remarkalble solo which starts after around six minutes and forty five seconds, where notes bounce rapidly from speaker to speaker; a brilliant moment which tapped directly into the zeitgeist; perfectly channeling the very spirit of the age in eight seconds. Listening to this on headphones now, forty years (for goodness sake!) after it's release, these eight seconds capture everything I love about the cultural movement of the late sixties. Sublime.

Can't Find My Way Home begins with a delicious acoustic guitar and wonderfully understated drumming from Ginger Baker. I find it impossible to describe the intensity of Steve Winwood's vocal delivery on this track. It is such a beautifully measured three minutes or so which again appeals so strongly to anyone who has indeed been so wasted that they can't find their way home. I often listen to this track mentally picturing the wandering gait of a drunken journey back from the pub.

Well... All right took much longer to grow on me, being more piano orientated with quite an obstrusive drum pattern from Ginger. I prefer the second  half of the track which feels more free form and has more of the spirit of the previous tracks.

Presence Of The Lord is the weakest track on the record for me. It feels too personally aligned to Eric and less of a band effort. The key strength of the album as a whole is the feeling that it is a true band vision in the very best sense of the word. One of the reasons I am so passionate about the musical output of (primarily) 1967 - 1976 is the sense that musicians often created pieces of art which felt as though they could have been born of out a live take in the studio, such was the quality of the muscianship. Blind Faith's only album is one of the greatest examples of this: four tremedous musicians at the peak of their careers working as one.

It is Steve Winwood's vocal and keyboard playing which dominate Sea of Joy. His portrayl of emotion is pretty much without parallel. The violin dominates the latter half of the track. It shouldn't work in the context of a predominantly blues based framework, but somehow it does.

Do What You Like is the high point of the album. I hear similiarities in the production of this track and very early Chicago; when they were still The Chicago Transit Authority. I admire Ginger Baker's restraint; it would  have been very easy to add standard rock fills in the open spaces between the keyboards and the free-form vocals. Clapton's guitar styling in this track must surely have influenced the very young Carlos Santana ( who played Woodstock a month after this was released). Indeed it does have a latino feel for much of the track. It is usually very hard to say anything positive about a drum solo, but it nearly works here. It is indulgent and it is distracting, and it does take a few listens before a certain level of annoyance begins to vanish.

Although I may have originally only set out to fill a gap in my record collection, I now have a great deal of affection for this record. It utterly captures my favourite era of music in a way which is unique and endearing. Truly indispensible.