The Cavern
Rock & Words
MEDDLE (Pink Floyd, 1971)
Artist: Pink Floyd (B+)
Recording Dates: Jan - Ago ‘71
Release Date: October 30th, 1971. UK
Record Label: Harvest/EMI
Producer: Pink Floyd
Rating: 9.5 (MUST HAVE)
Era: Progressive (1968-???)
Subgenre: Progressive
Best Song: Echoes
Tracklist: 1) One Of These Days; 2) A Pillow Of Winds; 3) Fearless; 4) San Tropez; 5) Seamus; 6) Echoes.
Meddle finally marks Pink Floyd's arrival at maturity. It's the moment they sever the umbilical cord with Syd Barrett and his influence, which was still felt in one way or another on all their previous albums. Here, Barrett completely fades away, and a mature, confident Pink Floyd emerges. Since the setback of Piper, still under Syd's leadership, they hadn't been able to release another solid album, either musically or commercially. Here they achieved critical acclaim, with everyone agreeing (and I agree) that it's their best album up to that point. But it also brought them their biggest commercial success since Syd's departure: although it only reached number 70 in the US, it peaked at number 3 in the UK.
The thing is, those ups and downs that shaped their previous albums, that search for their own identity, finally bear fruit here. It's no longer blind experimentation; you can tell, and you can really tell, that they have a direction, that it's a solid and cohesive album, even if it's not a concept album. Here they improve upon everything they've done before, and I'd even venture to say that for a long time I considered it superior to Dark Side of the Moon. Now it seems to me that at least 41 of the album's 46 minutes are top-notch (I'm only excluding "San Tropez" and "Seamus," which, although I like them and they have their charm, don't really add anything to Floyd's catalog), but it falls just short of reaching the majesty and perfection of masterpieces like Dark Side itself, Wish You Were Here, or Animals. In any case, I still think it's a monumental album, and on the other hand, much lighter and less overwhelming than Dark Side, without that pomposity or overproduction. If DSOTM hadn't had that level of production detail, if it had been a rawer album like this one, I think Meddle would be superior. But they're right, what's done is done.
What is undeniable is that here the group reaches, if not its peak (they're VERY close to it), then certainly the classic Pink Floyd sound we know and love, the sound that would make them one of the most powerful bands of the 70s and in the history of rock. Waters hasn't yet reached his lyrical peak, but he's getting close, and he's also starting to take the reins and leadership. It's still a democratic album; everyone collaborates, but if you notice, Waters is the only one credited on every track. His dictatorship would formally begin with Dark Side of the Moon, but here there are already hints of a coup, haha. And as a bassist, well, what he does on "One of These Days" speaks for itself. It's one of the most incredible bass performances I've ever heard. Nick Mason sounds amazing. It's not that he's ever been a bad drummer, but he really didn't sound like he does here. The level he displays in the second half of “One of These Days” or in some sections of “Echoes,” especially towards the end, multiplying like an octopus, is truly masterful. While never a fan of drum solos, Mason already shows impressive technique here, and an ability to insert those solos that many drummers use for their own glory, right in the middle of the song, rhythmically and all. In other words, Nick uses that talent to showcase the song and the band, not himself. Rick also reaches a level of maturity here. I couldn't say exactly what changed; he had already given some good glimpses, but it seems to me that before this album he was a somewhat spaced-out and psychedelic keyboardist. From Meddle onwards, he sounds more sober and mature, making arrangements that truly contribute to the songs, creating atmospheres in an elaborate and subtle way, but with greater magic and elegance. That enormous intro to “Echoes” is proof of this, and it's already a prelude to what he would do on “Shine On You Crazy Diamond.” And Gilmour truly becomes Gilmour on this album. Here, at last, his mastery of that cold, mathematical technique emerges, and we can hear those solos that transport us to paradise, bearing his personal stamp, and which will make him one of the best guitarists on the planet.
Perhaps Meddle is their most revolutionary album. Don't misunderstand me, I don't mean to say it's their best. I say this in the same way I said the same about the Beatles' Help! Both are turning points and the first step towards their highest creative level. This album captures the lessons learned from Soucerful, More, Ummaguma, and Atom. Without this album, then, it's impossible to imagine masterpieces like Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, and Animals, since they are part of the evolution that began at this point.
Another point is that this album came about much more naturally than works like Dark Side of the Moon, for example. While DSOTM required six months of seclusion and total dedication from the band, Meddle was recorded in a rather carefree manner between tours. They started in early '71, finishing the Atom Heart Mother tour, when Abbey Road Studios became available. They had already recorded Piper and Soucerful there. However, Abbey Road only had an 8-track multitrack recorder, which was already becoming insufficient, so they moved to smaller studios, AIR and Morgan, which had 16-track recording capabilities. The idea was to just jam a bit, since they didn't have a central theme for the album, nor any previously developed songs. They began by improvising, with each member leading a main line that they would later combine into a suite. The approach wasn't too serious. They were more about having fun and experimenting. Rick Wright had the idea to connect his keyboard to a Leslie amplifier, and thus obtained aquatic notes, like a submarine "pinging." Gilmour, not to be outdone in the experimentation, connected the wah pedal in reverse, to create a stroboscopic effect, with a certain violin-like quality. The song began as "Nothings." As it evolved, it changed to "Son of Nothings," then "Return of the Son of Nothings," until, in a more elaborate form, it became "Echoes" thanks to the opening notes played by Rick, emulating the echo of an underwater radar. The rest also emerged naturally during the sessions in the breaks between live performances.
The album ended up being only six songs long, but it's quite varied and very complete. "One Of These Days" is a powerful rocker driven by a virtuoso bass line full of effects. Practically an instrumental, but one of the band's best. "A Pillow of Winds" is a beautiful psychedelic folk ballad, possibly Pink Floyd's best love song. Wait! Possibly Pink Floyd's only love song! "Fearless" is another song that combines that acoustic background with an ascending electric riff, and some sand rock from the background chants. "San Tropez" is another very old-school ballad, with a jazzy influence, that reminds me of retro McCartney tracks like "Martha My Dear," and where Roger's sense of humor is perceived (for the last time). "Seamus" is a joke in a canine blues style, but this time it's much better executed than things like "Alan Psychedelic Breakfast." These two tracks, while not the best, at least lighten the album and add a touch of humor and a very relaxed feel. And “Echoes,” a 23-minute suite—the third longest song they've ever recorded—showcases a colossal level of musicianship. It features one of my favorite and most complex riffs, and overall, it's a well-executed rehearsal for what would later become “Shine On You Crazy Diamond,” not far removed from this masterpiece.
The cover is a photograph by Bob Dowling, supposedly depicting a human ear (it was long rumored to be a pig's) underwater, with ripples visible on the surface representing the sounds reaching the ear. Quite bland, in my opinion, given the album's musical quality, but at least it wasn't a picture of a baboon's rear end, as originally planned!
The album kicks off with “One Of These Days”, an instrumental track that already showcases an immense level of skill, both individually and collectively. It begins with wind sounds and echo-laden bass notes, which immediately build to a powerful rhythm. Here's the song's twist: Put on your headphones. Turn up the volume. Notice how a bass line enters at :38, already with a great rhythm. In the middle of this whirlwind, notice how exactly 10 seconds later… another bass line enters! The secret of this song is that both Gilmour and Waters create bass tracks using multitracking. Waters is heard loudly on the left, while Gilmour's bass is more subtle on the right, gradually decreasing in volume. It's assumed that Gilmour's bass sounds more subtle and quiet because he had old strings made for this purpose. In combination, both bass lines create a brutal and devastating effect, which for a long time was thought to be slap bass (but it's clear that it can't be sustained for that long). Anyway. Rick creates sonic bursts during the airy intro. The song slowly builds in intensity, and at 1:50 we can hear Mason, with the cymbals recorded in reverse, like bursts, followed shortly by the powerful toms and Gilmour's guitar sounding incredibly strong, like a roaring engine. At 2:50, Waters' bass enters with a heavy delay effect, stuttering and distorted (using a Binson Echorec), playing with the notes, while Wright adds dark-sounding effects. The tension is tremendous. And the drums haven't even fully kicked in yet! Something's about to happen, you can feel it. One drum roll, then another, and suddenly Nick Mason's voice bursts in with a heavily distorted voice, shouting: "One of these days I'm gonna cut you into little pieces." The rhythm finally kicks in at 3:45 with an impressive solo from Gilmour. The voice distortion was achieved using a modulator. Mason recorded the vocals using a falsetto at double speed, and then the tempo was slowed down to achieve the deep, raspy effect we hear. Nick joked that it was a huge responsibility to carry the lead vocal on a song. Now, Dave's guitar solo is on another level. Something must have happened to Gilmour from the Atom era by this point; he's taken a giant leap. With the multitrack, he adds a couple of interwoven guitars: one that sounds incredibly powerful playing distorted power chords, and another with a very bluesy slide, recorded with a bottleneck. The ending is apocalyptic. Mason sounds amazing, propelling the song with unprecedented energy. A truly powerful song, with the guitar roaring like never before and the bass played with virtuosity. An incredible song—dark, menacing, kick-ass, freaky—that immediately shows this is a different Pink Floyd than the one that left us with a blank stare on the last track of Atom Heart Mother. And well, inevitably the joke that Eugene sings it, from "Careful With That Axe, Eugene".
Next up is “A Pillow Of Winds”, which contrasts sharply with the violence and darkness of the previous track. It's assumed the band intentionally created this stark contrast, as they needed to tone down the raw power with which they opened the album, and this transition is brilliant, by the way. “Winds” is a beautiful acoustic ballad by Roger, very folk and hippie-esque, with a delicate arpeggio and a wonderful slide guitar, giving it an ethereal, spiritual, airy feel. It's like sitting in a field watching the clouds drift slowly across the sky. The lyrics are evocative, among the few (if not the only) love songs I remember from Pink Floyd: “Sleepy time when I lie, With my love by my side, And she's breathing low, And the candle dies.” Rick plays a subtle role, with the keyboards in the background; he finally starts to sound understated but effective in relation to the song. And Nick also contributes simple percussion. David's solos and arrangements throughout the song are wonderful, truly evoking something ethereal and sublime, complemented by a satiny vocal melody. Everything that worked in the aggressive complexity of "One Of These Days" continues to have a magical effect and functions in the same way in this minimalist, simple track, which leaves you breathless with its exquisite beauty.
Then we have “Fearless”, a delightful acoustic song, continuing the mood we left off in. If Gilmour played bass on the first track, here Waters takes up the guitar, creating that dual effect where one guitar carries the rhythm and the other plays the ascending electric riff that shapes the entire song. Again, Gilmour delivers a velvety voice with a very smooth and catchy melody. At 2:20, an instrumental bridge appears, with the guitars intertwining with exquisite grace, very relaxing. And then the verses, with that hypnotic melody. The lyrics are very good, somewhat philosophical: “You say the hill’s too steep to climb, You say you’d like to see me try.” Or “Fearlessly the idiot faced the crowd smiling.” The song moves back and forth with the verses, breaks, bridges, embellishments, and alternating with that ascending riff repeating again and again. Mason and Wright are understated yet effective, with skillful cymbal work that maintains a consistently smooth sound, and the piano occasionally adding charming little flourishes. Around the five-minute mark, the music begins to fade, leaving behind a monumental chorus singing "You'll Never Walk Alone," which apparently was a song Liverpool fans used to sing to their team around that time (I don't know if they still do). I don't know why they decided to add this chorus, but I think it detracts somewhat from the song's otherwise excellent mood. The rest, however, is magnificent.
We continue with “San Tropez”, a rich Waters song with a very jazzy feel, where Rogers displays his lyrical sense of humor for the last time before plunging into a poetic, depressive abyss… until now! Lines like “Makin’ for a date for later by pon, And if you’re alone I’ll come home” are very funny and showcase that famous British sense of humor. The song has a very retro and refined feel (jazz-cocktail???) reminiscent of the Kinks’ British mood or some McCartney songs. Gilmour plays a lovely slide guitar and Rick delivers a fine, very elegant keyboard solo at 2:25, which extends until the song fades out. I don’t think it fits with the rest of the album, but it can’t be considered filler. It’s very well made and very cute, it just doesn’t stand out much among so many heavyweights.
Next up is “Seamus”, which continues the trend of lighthearted songs and experimentation that leans more towards the humorous. I mentioned that it was kind of like “Alan’s Psychedelic Breakfast,” but this time well done, and it’s shorter, just long enough to remain a joke. It’s Dave improvising blues on his steel guitar, and while he sings, a dog barks and howls in the background for the entire song, a little over two minutes. Rick adds a little piano, also very cocktail-like, and Roger plays another guitar part in the background. Mason simply must have made a huge effort not to burst out laughing. And that’s it. The song came about because Seamus, Dave's Irish hound (who is indeed the one "singing" on this track), started howling one night while Gilmour was lying in his garden playing the harmonica. Dave thought it was as if his dog were singing along with him, and that's how the idea was born. The lyrics are exactly that. They're filler, but they're fun, and they're short. This track closes out side A of the album.
The B-side is entirely comprised of the masterful 23.5-minute suite “Echoes”. It’s a damn gem, already on par with any of Floyd’s masterpieces, and possibly among the top 10 or 12 tracks in their entire catalog. And despite its length, it flies by. It recalls the cacophony of the Atom Heart Mother suite, but with much better melodies, hooks, mysticism, and riffs. Everything is crafted to an impressive standard that keeps you on the edge of your seat from the very beginning, building to that magical crescendo. A highly ambitious song, but not pretentious. It begins with those sounds like a submarine’s radar. In the first takes of the song, which were just a jam session, Rick plugged his keyboard into a Leslie amplifier and got this sound, which fascinated everyone. Later, Dave accidentally plugged his wah pedal in backwards. In other words, he set the output to input and the input to output, and when he played his guitar, the sound was shrill, like an albatross's, as we can hear in the section that begins at 11:25. With these sounds, they decided to create a song with marine references. Well, the song itself starts with these keyboard sounds. “Ping. Ping-Ping,” with an organ creating a subtle background. The guitar enters at 1:10, also tentatively, and the long intro generates a superb tension, in a slow crescendo combining keyboards and guitar, which they will later revisit for “Shine On You Crazy Diamond.” At 1:50, Mason enters with his tumbling blocks, creating a small climax. Then the guitar takes over a bit more with bluesy figures. Another drum roll at 2:40, and finally, we get to the lyrics exactly at the 3-minute mark (you have to pay attention to the timing they use). The lyrics, as I mentioned, have a maritime feel: “Overhead the albatross, hangs motionless upon the air, And deep beneath the rolling waves, In labyrinths of coral caves.” Then there's a kind of bridge-chorus that repeats, beginning with the line “And no one called us to the land…” After this bridge comes one of the most exquisite and complex riffs in rock history, making its appearance at 3:45. That back-and-forth scale that Gilmour plays is simply marvelous, and it becomes the central figure of the suite. Incidentally, Waters almost sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for plagiarizing this figure for “The Phantom of the Opera.” The song continues to build gradually, with an incendiary, semi-slow tempo. Rick shines in the background. At 5:30, Gilmour's guitar solo begins, cold, precise, full of blues, making his guitar weep at a brutal level. The song continues its ascent, building to a delicious climax that feels like it's about to explode at any moment. The guitar solo is incendiary and continues to draw in, reaching its peak around the 7-minute mark. Then we enter another section, exactly at the 7-minute mark, with a funkier rhythm and a guitar with a heavier, more aggressive sound. Rick again shines with his arrangements; the bass line is lively, though consistent, and the band jams with complete freedom until the section fades away at the 11-minute mark (exactly). Here begins another section, darker and more experimental, with Gilmour's albatross-like guitar wail. Waters also contributes his own experimental touch, creating a wind effect with his bass, plucking the strings with his fingernails, and processing the sound through a Binson Echorec amplifier. The effect is overwhelming and hypnotic. To me, it has always seemed like a dark underwater journey to the wreckage of a sunken ship. A decidedly maritime, humid, yet chilling and dark atmosphere is created. Many consider it boring. To me, it's somewhat similar to Page's experimentation with the violin bow in "Dazed & Confused." At 14:40, this "underwater graveyard" begins to dissipate, leaving a satin keyboard base, returning with the radar-like notes from the beginning. Can you feel the tension? Gilmour begins a fade-in on the guitar, picking but then muffling the sound with his palm, but it's Rick who steals the show in this section. Mason also begins to keep the rhythm with the cymbals and soon adds powerful rolls. The song builds to a slow crescendo, and a climax is anticipated. The guitar creates a rainbow of notes at 18:15, and then roars in a manner similar to "One Of These Days" with distorted power chords. The tension is finally released at 19:10. There's no explosion; instead, they return to the verse structure: “Almost everyday you fall, Upon my waking eyes, Inviting and inciting me to rise…” The closing verse is brilliant and moving: “And no one sings me lullabies, And no one makes me close my eyes, So I throw the windows wide, And call to you across the sky…” From here, around the 20-minute mark, the extended coda begins, with the main riff and all the instrumentation increasing in intensity, building tension, pushing us to the edge. Despite the brutal level of all four musicians, Mason steals the show in this finale, multiplying his arms like an octopus to perform an incredibly complex drum job without missing a beat. At 2:20, they lower the intensity, returning to a melancholic tone with keyboards and guitar intertwining their lament for a masterful ending. We leave with a sound like turbines or wind that drowns out the instrumentation, while the "ping-ping" continues in the background. An epic, monstrous song, which I know many hold in high esteem, but which still seems somewhat underrated to me.
In short, a well-rounded album that showcases Pink Floyd as a great and virtuosic band, finally with a distinct direction and sound. This has to be my favorite Floyd album after Animals, Wish You Were Here, and Dark Side of the Moon (sometimes). It falls just short of reaching the level of those three albums: two points—the lyrics and a couple of minor tracks—that are definitely lacking in those works, preventing me from giving it the same perfect score.
But all things considered, it's an essential album for any rock fan. The variety of atmospheres and sensations these guys are capable of creating is overwhelming. This is where that mythical Pink Floyd begins, the one that dominated the 70s and became one of the pillars of rock, taking art rock and progressive rock to stratospheric heights. A must-have!
By Corvan
Mar/16/2012
