Pink Floyd - 1968: Germin/ation (The Early Years 1965-1972, Volume 2)

7.5 - England - 1968/2017

For the last couple of decades (at least!), I've been kvetching about how Pink Floyd needed to release their BBC Sessions. Whereas the Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Bowie and others had put out sets compiling various recordings they had made for radio, Pink Floyd's BBC Sessions -- they recorded several between 1967 and 1971 -- remained consigned to bootlegs of varying degrees of sound quality. A shame, as that period -- which followed the firing of the group's mainspring Syd Barrett and resulted in the remaining band members plotting out a new sound that culminated in the stadium-dominating prog-rock of the mid-seventies -- is arguably the most interesting part of the band's career. Moreover, the live sound of Pink Floyd at this time is heavier and more psychedelic than their later, more well-known material, and, outside of the four tracks presented on the "Live" half of the Ummagumma album, it has remained largely unheard since those scratchy BEEB transmissions made their way into the ether those many years ago.

And so it was with rather mixed emotions that last year I heard that Pink Floyd would be releasing a mammoth boxed-set documenting their "Early Years" from their Syd Barrett-led inception up to the period just preceding the world-conquering Dark Side Of The Moon. Over seven volumes, the set includes the group's early non-album singles, previously unreleased live and studio recordings (including all the BBC sessions) and a whole ton of video material. Fantastic! Well, except for a price tag of several hundred dollars, a price tag inflated by the inclusion of replica (that is, "fake") memorabilia and replica vinyl singles. Cool, but unnecessary. A two-disc distillation of highlights of the set might work for a more casual fan, but is really just a tease of the treasures available on the full set. Fortunately, in the spring of 2017, Pink Floyd released six of the set's volumes independently at somewhat more reasonable prices (the seventh volume in the boxed set, "1967-1972: Continu/ation", which apparently contains "lesser" material from throughout the period, remains exclusive to the big set), so that the less pecuniarily gifted collecter can obtain (most of) this fascinating music on an installment plan.

For now, I've skipped the first entry in the series, 1967: Cambridge St/ation (I find the "/ation" name formatting somewhat silly, but whatever), as I've never been all that interested in the Syd Barrett era, and jumped in with the second volume that picks up in the immediate aftermath of Barrett's departure as the group struggled to find its own sound. I'd argue that this period -- which I'd contend lasted up until 1970's Atom Heart Mother -- represents the Floyd at, if not their best, perhaps their most interesting. So while this second volume is one of the slimmest in the set -- one audio disc lasting just under an hour and then a video disc (somewhat pointlessly duplicated in both blu-ray and dvd formats as if to proved a questionable justification for the somewhat unnecessarily inflated price: the standard retail on these suckers runs about C$60, but copies can be found for around C$40) -- I was quite excited to finally hear some of these long-hidden gems in the best possible quality.

The audio portion of this set consists of two non-album singles, a couple of studio outtakes, and two full sessions recorded for the BBC. The two singles -- the Wright-penned "It Would Be So Nice" and the early Gilmour-Waters collaboration "Point Me At The Sky" -- are perhaps the most obscure recordings the band ever officially released. The early collection of (mostly) non-album tracks, Relics, put out in 1971 passed over these tunes in favour of their admittedly superior b-sides (also included here). The omission is perhaps understandable: "It Would Be So Nice" is quite bad. I've already stated a couple of times now that this was a transitional period, which presents a mixed a blessing: on the one hand, you get the Floyd at their most daring and adventurous -- think of the noisy psych freakout of "A Saucerful Of Secrets", the moody guitar attack of "Careful With That Axe, Eugene" and the experimentalism of the studio disc of Ummagumma -- but on the otherhand you also get some dreadful and sometimes pretentious misfires -- think of the failed attempts to recapture the childish psychedelic whimsy of Syd Barrett's material or the experimentalism of the studio disc of Ummagumma. "It Would Be So Nice" is definitely in the latter category; it's almost sounds like some Spinal Tap-ian parody of a subpar attempt at aping the Beatles. Worst of all, the group themselves clearly know that it is no good and that they're only putting out this dreck due to pressure from the record company to futiley try to make another "See Emily Play". With Barrett gone and Waters and Gilmour yet to take over, for this brief period, keyboardist Richard Wright seems to have taken on the mantle of being the frontman and main songwriter, but whereas A Saucerful Of Secrets' "Remember A Day" and the "Apples And Oranges" b-side "Paintbox" are both very good pop-psych tunes, this, his only a-side, is dire indeed (drummer Nick Mason described it as "fucking awful"). The Waters-penned b-side, "Julia Dream" is somewhat better: it's a mildly pleasant exercise in pastoral psychedelia salvaged by a neat chord sequence in the middle-eight wherein Wright's keyboard flute takes a solo.

The other non-album single from this period is a definite improvement. "Point Me At The Sky" is an early collaboration between Roger Waters and David Gilmour and, in this reviewer's consideration, constitutes somewhat of a "lost classic" in the Floyd canon. The science fiction lyrics detailing a crowded, dystopian future are a bit silly, but the transitions between the spacey verses and the rousing chorus (one of the few Floyd moments that could be described as a genuine "sing-a-long") are a neat highlight. In the end, the single's b-side, "Careful With That Axe, Eugene", ended up overshadowing this forgotten tune to become one of the group's early signature pieces. Here, in its studio incarnation, "Eugene" is a little less explosive, but still features some creepy ambience and a nice fuzz solo from Gilmour (but still a shadow of its apothoesis on the Ummagumma live disc).

Appended to these two singles are a couple of pieces recorded in America in August 1968. They're little more than half-finished (and rather half-assed) demos, imaginatively titled "Song 1" and "Song 2 (Roger's Boogie)". I can't help but suspect the parenthetical title is misplaced -- neither song could be described as a "Boogie", but if you had to pick one, it'd be the first. Anyway, from a historical standpoint, these two tracks anticipate some of the work to come from the Floyd in the next couple of years: "Song 1" sounds almost like a very early version of one of the themes in "Atom Heart Mother". "Song 2" is perhaps the better of two and is built around a stack of chorale harmonies (I can think of nothing like it in the Floyd canon) and some bizarre lyrics about the angel Gabriel. Objectively speaking, it's not all that great, but I would have very much liked to know where they were going with the tune!

More than half of the audio disc is made up of two sessions recorded for the BBC in 1968. The first set comprises of a kinda early version of "Careful With That Axe, Eugene" (under the title "Muderotic Woman") as well as an abbreviated version of "A Saucerful Of Secrets" (titled the "The Massed Gadgets Of Hercules" even though, according to our faintly amusing announcer, the actual album was already in release, so I'm not sure why the alternate, working title is used here). These two tracks -- along with pedestrian renditions of "Julia Dream" and "Let There Be More Light" -- are enjoyable, if not outstanding.

The second BBC set is more interesting. "Point Me At The Sky" is given a bit of an overhaul with a longer and much more psychedelic middle section and an extended outro featuring a pretty nifty organ solo from Wright. We also get an early -- dare I say "embryonic" -- version of the lost Floyd tune "Embryo". In this instance, it's similar to the acousticish studio demo of the song put out (against the group's wishes) on the Harvest Records sampler Picnic, A Breath Of Fresh Air, a version that made its way in the CD era onto the utterly bizarre compiliation Works (which seems to have been sequenced by just pulling random Floyd songs out of a hat). As later BBC sessions will show, "Embryo" ended up gestating into a lengthy, guitar-led centrepiece, but this version is still not without its charms. Finally, the last cut on the disc is a post-Barrett version of "Interstellar Overdrive". This version is more restrained and less frenetic than its original, and yet in some ways it's also more experimental as the band seems to have polished their avant-garde tendencies. Unfortunately, despite the best efforts of mastering wiz Andy Jackson, the sound quality of this track is quite poor at best. Absolutely worth hearing nonetheless.

As good as the audio is, the visual component of the set, however, is where the real value lies. And, to continue beating that dead horse, its fascinating to see the group in this none-more-transitional state. The first tracks presented on the blu-ray consist of some lip-synched performances for Belgian television. At this stage, the group (still referred to as The Pink Floyd) are still trading on the Barrett era material, thus forcing Waters, Wright, and sometimes Gilmour to ventriloquize the absent Syd: Waters' ridiculous "performance" of "Apples And Oranges" is absolutely priceless. Also, Mason hilariously refuses to make any attempt at miming his drum parts with any semblance of accuracy. Still, these early promotional videos are quite charming and it's nice to see the boys (they are so young) having a bit of fun during what were probably difficult times (viz. Roger cracking up during an awkward lip-synched performance of "Remember A Day" on French television followed by Gilmour striking rock god poses with an acoustic guitar).

The actually "live" performances are better. We get an interesting excerpt of a performance of "Interstellar Overdrive" on Italian television (sidenote: it's also interesting that almost all this footage comes from European and not British sources). Perhaps the highlight, however, is a stellar live version of "Let There Be More Light" performed on some French TV show. A smattering of groovy Euro-hippies (and one inexplicable older dude) sway unconvincingly and haphazardly will the Floyd lay down some nice space rock. In this live version, Gilmour lays down an extended and slightly heavier solo compared to the studio version (I always felt this track never quite lived up to the promise of its awesome intro section). I should note here that as you watch through the whole disc you can literally see David Gilmour get more comfortable in the group. In the first promo clips, he appears awkward and unsure of himself, yet over the course of just a few months, he gradually becomes more at ease. Kinda neat.

In all, I'm just so glad that this material is finally out. Even though this particular installment might be a somewhat weak entry compared to the glories to come in the next few years, it's still fascinating and essential for any Floyd fan. As such, it was a bit tricky assigning a score for this record. Objectively speaking, the music itself probably rates a 7: historical interest can only go so far and while, outside of "It Would Be So Nice", there's nothing really "bad" here, there's also nothing particularly amazing. Also, while the video component is pretty cool, on this disc there's a lot of repetition ("Let There Be More Light" in particular) and much of it just lip-synchs to studio tracks which are already among some of the weakest material the group recorded). Still, I want to give this whole project a grade of 11.0 for simply existing (maybe docking down to 9.5-10.0 due to the unnecessarily high prices). So, um, 7.5 then?