Pink Floyd: The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn - 1967

Right from the outset here I have to own up to not being a "proper" Pink Floyd fan - you know, the sort of slightly nerdy bloke who lies in a darkened room listening to Dark Side Of The Moon endlessly. That sort of thing was anathema to me in the seventies. However, the Floyd were just so damn BIG back then (and indeed still are) that I felt I had to dip into their work. I ended up reviewing twelve albums, so who's the nerd now, eh?

The debut album from Pink Floyd was a most odd affair - full of Syd Barrett's strangely child-like lyrical imagery, mixed with lots of very English whimsy, the band's often bizarre psychedelic innovation and a few tiny signs of Roger Waters' wry, often cynical, world-weary too soon witticism. Musically, it is often a discordant, psychedelic, hallucinogenic trip of weird keyboard noises and "spacey" sound effects. 

There is a real dichotomy apparent between Barrett's lightly mischievous ditties like the very early David Bowie-esque The Gnome and Flaming and the rest of the band's lengthy, experimental psychedelic, weird workouts like the pretty much unlistenable Interstellar Overdrive and the not much more tolerable (but slightly so) Pow R. Toc H. (whatever that meant). It results in an overall impression of disharmony and drugged-up chaos. 

Yes, The Beatles went druggy at the same period, but their offerings had nothing on this. This was madness put to music. It is like aspects of The Rolling Stones' Their Satanic Majesties Request gone completely ape-shit. I'm not sure what I prefer, all those "space rock" freak outs or irritating nonsense like Barrett's Bike. In fact, I don't go much for either of them. There was so much better stuff around in 1967, and better material from early Pink Floyd too. No subsequent albums would sound anything like this. 

I have to admit to a bit of a liking for the James Bond theme bassy backing on Lucifer Sam, however. Matilda Mother is strangely tolerable too and there are bits of the sound of Pow R. Toc H. that get into my system, particularly the drums and the keyboards. The same can be said for odd bits in Waters' Take Up Thy Stethoscope And Walk. The beguiling Chapter 24 has an understated appeal but Scarecrow has little redeeming about it. 

The opener, Barrett's psychedelic, spacey maelstrom of Astronomy Domine was probably the best track, featuring a fine, deep, rumbling bass and some inspired drumming, but it is pretty much downhill after there, for me. I guess I am supposed to accept it as a work of tortured genius, but, unfortunately, I don't. Listening to someone's LSD trip and eventual decent into mental breakdown is a challenging experience.