The Cavern
Rock & Words
A SAUCERFUL OF SECRETS (Pink Floyd, 1968)
Artist: Pink Floyd (B+)
Recording Dates: Jan - Apr 1968
Release Date: Jun 29th, 1968. UK
Record Label: Columbia Capitol
Producer: Norman Smith
Rating: 7
Era: Psychedelia (1966-1969)
Subgenre: Psychedelia
Best Song: Set The Control For The Heart Of The Sun
Tracklist: 1) Let There Be More Light; 2) Remember A Day; 3) Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun; 4) Corporal Clegg; 5) A Saucerful Of Secrets; 6) See-Saw; 7) Jugband Blues.
Wham! What happened to all the magic this band had conjured up just a year earlier? What caused such a drastic change? Well, the magician went mad. It's that simple. By the time Pink Floyd started working on this album, Syd Barrett had lost every single screw, so they had to send him to Wonderland and replaced him with David Gilmour, whom Syd himself had suggested in his last lucid moment.
But it's not a disastrous album. It's definitely not a psychedelic, astral gem like Piper, but it's not all bad. In fact, it's one of the Pink Floyd albums I listen to most from that transitional period, from this record to Obscured by Clouds, before they reached maturity and a fixed direction with Meddle.
This is the only Pink Floyd album featuring all five members, and one of their most democratic and balanced. And bizarre… Waters substantially improves his songwriting abilities compared to his debut with that Piper Stethoscope thing, and he still hasn't become a despot; Rick Wright makes two decent contributions, Mason sings lead vocals on “Corporal Clegg” while Barrett adds the very rare and heartbreaking “Jugband Blues,” and finally, they all collaborate on the title track. It's the only non-compilation Floyd album where all five members participate in some significant way on a song, whether with guitar solos, vocals, backing vocals, or as songwriters.
The album is very strange. The band knows it's their last work with Barrett, who, in fact, has very little involvement here. So it sounds like a farewell on one hand, a reproach on the other, a search to somehow continue the success of The Piper, and at the same time, a contrast as they try to prove they can go on without their brilliant and somewhat eccentric leader. The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn somehow already manifests Syd's madness, but it sounds fun and almost brilliant. You listen to it and think, "This guy is crazy," but what you really want to say is, "This guy who sounds great is trying to act crazy," which is funny and fascinating. On The Saucerful, his only song shows that we've lost him: "It's awfully considerate of you to think of me here" and "And I wonder who could be writing this song," and at the same time, it's a kind of reproach to his bandmates for sidelining him: "And what exactly is a dream, and what exactly is a joke…"
Barrett's madness at the Piper was entertaining, bordering on brilliant. His madness here is chilling in its sheer insanity, and especially because he's genuinely aware of how unwell he is. Furthermore, some other songs attempt to maintain the astral psychedelia of their debut, but with a somewhat more serious, more snobbish direction, like "Let There Be More Light," "Set The Controls…," or even "Soucerful…." It's as if the band wants to cling to the sounds that brought them success with Gates of Dawn, but at the same time wants to distance themselves from Syd's insanity, saying, "We're something serious, we're sane, and we're doing this with all the seriousness in the world." And it's not that it's bad, but sometimes they give the impression that they're not having fun making music. As if they're trying to prove they can easily carry on without Syd. But it's clear they can't.
In any case, Barrett's influence is very noticeable here, and there's still a hint of direction, a path close to the sounds of their debut. On future albums, Pink Floyd will seem more lost, diluted, and this tendency to seek Syd's shadow will become more pronounced, while simultaneously creating the paradox of distancing themselves with supposedly more sober or calculated sounds, which will lead them to become a tremendously pretentious and directionless band for about two or three years.
The album opens with Roger's "Let There Be More Light", a song that continues the astral rock vein of their debut. The song, and the album itself, begins with a phenomenal and powerful bass line from Waters, a frenetic, semi-slap picking technique that later paves the way for the great bass line of "One Of These Days," which here sounds ferocious and impactful. The song suddenly transforms into a mystical chant, a kind of mantra with the "far, far, far, far away…" with a hypnotic and decadent effect, featuring brilliant conceptual lyrics (even a reference to Lucy In The Sky!), although in the end it seems like a jam session without much direction. We already mentioned that Waters wrote this track. He has undoubtedly improved enormously as a songwriter since the bad joke of "Stethoscope," and it's clear he decided to follow Barrett's cosmic legacy, while Wright, with his contributions, takes the lighter, more hippie-like side of Syd. As a note on Roger's remarkable bass playing here, it's highly suspicious that he improved so much overnight, or even from one year to the next. In an interview, Gilmour said he played bass on half the songs on the early albums, starting with this one, so that fierce and impressive opening line could have been played by David, just as he played fretless bass on "Hey You." In any case, this is a great album opener and sums it up quite well: it has some great moments and starts very promisingly, but at other times it loses its way completely and becomes a bit repetitive. By the way, Gilmour makes his vocal debut here on backing vocals!
Next up is “Remember a Day”, which is perhaps my favorite Wright song after “The Great Gig on the Sky.” This track was recorded in 1967 during the Piper sessions, but it was discarded because it didn't fit the sound of the rest of the album. It may not be as impressive as the Rogers' songs, but it has a hippie charm, a majestic, echo-laden piano, and Rick's soft, sweet vocal harmonies. In the background, Syd plays strange, high-pitched slide guitar riffs that seem to lament and perfectly complement the dreamlike atmosphere, while Nick plays tremendous drum rolls that rise and fall in volume throughout the song. A great track, but because of its low, sleepy tone, it takes several listens to appreciate its beauty and complexity.
Another cosmic offering from Waters follows. “Set The Control For The Heart Of The Sun” is, in my opinion, the best track on this album, and one of Floyd's finest moments in their entire career. It's a kind of mantra, where Roger sings in a barely audible tone, and the only thing you can understand is the repetition of the song's title, based on Chinese poetry from the Tang Dynasty. The song was first performed in late '67, still with Syd in the lineup, and has a strong influence from the star-studded rock that Syd created, though without the surf rock feel. This is a slow and hypnotic song, with another bass line worthy of a monument, much simpler and this time, played by the bassist. Roger lays these foundations that are repeated endlessly, but it's Wright who creates a dense, spacey atmosphere with those hallucinatory keyboard effects, along with the stressful sounds of seagulls that were added at the last minute. This song was a massive hit at concerts (and live versions like Unmmagumma or Pompeii sound immensely better!) and was in the setlists until Dark Side sent it to the drawer, but even on his last tour Roger gave a huge performance of it.
Next comes “Corporal Clegg”, where Waters shows a regression in his songwriting, returning to the chaotic level we saw on the debut. It's his first anti-war song and references his father, an obsession that would last his entire career. The opening guitar sounds very promising, starting off well with those crunchy guitars… but then Roger tries to copy Syd's childish-insane style (I really thought this was Barrett's composition) and the song becomes a real circus with pointless brass insertions (is that a kazoo?), incomprehensible rhythm changes with carnival atmospheres, bizarre vocal performances (courtesy of Mason), and is essentially a collage of noises that lead nowhere. This results in the worst song on the album, the equivalent of Piper's Stethoscope, but more complex. Many say this is the seed of The Wall. I say it might be… the seed of all the filler on The Wall. Incidentally, the guitar here belongs to Gilmour, and you can already see his distinctive style.
Next up is “A Saucerful of Secrets”, Pink Floyd’s first epic suite, which in this case lends its name to the album and is the only instrumental track so far. This composition is credited to all four members of the band, including Gilmour, but Barrett also has a small part on guitar (I suspect he creates those schizophrenic screaming effects with a pedal), making it the only track where all five members of Pink Floyd appear playing together. It’s a very complex, somewhat conceptual composition, attempting to represent a battle in its different phases; after all, it’s not a jam, but a perfectly calculated work that could have included live improvisations, but with a very identifiable structure. The song begins with a long keyboard intro in which Wright slowly builds a great tension filled with effects, and in the background, screeching guitars that together symbolize the nervous calm before the battle. This lasts until the four-minute mark, and from there Mason begins with some tom-tom rolls, barely paying attention to the cymbals. Rick takes the lead again, adding amazing keyboard arrangements, while Gilmour creates a bizarre effect by attaching his guitar to the microphone stand. This section lasts until the 7-minute mark. Then comes a kind of requiem after the battle, initially featuring a very church-like organ, but by the 9-minute mark it becomes more solemn, with Wright once again taking center stage, creating beautiful harmonies, a great chord progression, and even adding some heavenly choirs. I don't really know what Roger does in this song, haha. Nor why Richard isn't fully credited, given that he's responsible for 80% of the song's composition. Although many parts are just noise, there's a certain purpose in each piece of the suite, though it's also true that it lacks development and isn't one of Floyd's best epic songs. This is perhaps the beginning of their search for more elaborate sounds, in Pink Floyd's obsession with creating a perfect musical architecture, which resulted in a few songs up until 1972. I maintain that the result isn't the best in Floyd's entire catalog, and even I like it or not depending on my mood (sometimes I find it too stressful, other times even boring), but its merit lies in the riskiness of the sound and in that quest to go further, something only Zappa and the Velvet Underground had attempted at that time, but in different directions. Furthermore, unlike many avant-garde experiments of the era, it's listenable, and above all, IT IS MUSIC, at least for long stretches.
After such a dense sound comes another Rick track, “See-Saw”, which retains much of that hippie romanticism. In some ways, it's a bit less elaborate than “Remember,” but it's cute, light, echoing, and features a sleepy voice that fits the song well. So far, I don't own any solo material by Rick (only Waters and Gilmour), but after analyzing this album, I think it's well worth giving it a listen.
Finally comes “Jugband Blues”, composed and sung by Syd. To be honest, I don't particularly like it, but it's a nice touch that they let him make one last contribution. I think this is one of the best pieces of evidence demonstrating Syd's schizophrenia, from that period when he could barely play the same harmony twice. It comes across as depressing, nonsensical, and just plain bizarre. The most noteworthy aspect is the lyrics, in which Syd makes a very subtle reproach to his bandmates for kicking him out. And it's not just Barrett losing his mind; the saddest part is that he's perfectly aware of it, which is why there are some rather incoherent lines… and this (no longer funny) madness is highlighted by the musical chaos courtesy of the Salvation Army, who play that frankly awful horn section halfway through the song. This song tells us that something very bad has happened to Barrett. As a side note, Syd gathered several musicians and told them to do whatever they wanted on this part. The curious thing is that the Salvation Army was still in the studio when they recorded Atom Heart Mother. Yes, it's chaotic, and it's depressing, and it's insane. But it's the most sincerely depressing song ever, and that's the only reason I'm not highlighting it. The album was supposed to include another Syd track, "Vegetable Man," but they decided to cut it for being too autobiographical and raw (let's draw our own conclusions from the title).
In summary: this album has two very good astral songs from Roger; two very cute and hippie-ish songs from Rick, although not above average; a tasteless anti-war joke that reflects Roger's traumas by torturing us with noise; a multi-part experimental suite that lacked much development, but was very innovative for its time and sowed the seeds of Post-Barrett Floyd; and finally a joke-reproach-certified-schizophrenia from Syd, although very sincere and all.
So it's not as bad an album as many say. It's listenable. And at least to me, it seems better than some of their immediate follow-up albums, where they just couldn't seem to find their sound and identity. It's not as good as Piper, definitely, but here they seem to be declaring that they'll try to break down any musical barriers in the construction of their sound… and ultimately, that's what would lead them, slowly and after some setbacks, to masterpieces like Meddle, Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, and Animals…
To wrap things up (I thought this was going to be a short review, haha), Syd Barrett would go on to record, as a solo artist (with some minimal collaboration from Pink Floyd), Madcap Laughs and Barrett, both LPs released in 1970. I'm not a fan of theirs, let me make that clear, but I take my hat off to someone who finally dared to shout without fear that Bob Dylan was a massively overrated musician. Unfortunately, since he was crazy, nobody listened to him.
By Corvan
Jul/3/2009
