Blinking away at one of the many screens located on the desk, little paintings of even smaller cows fly through the TikTok feed. Some artist out there is portraying those livestock as helium balloons in an indifferent-yet-warm world. It has some primal beauty to it. Animals in places they should not be. People should not be in the skies for God did not attach jet engines to us on arrival to the great plain. But take a trip up into the skies with Pink Floyd and their slow but assured detachment from the psychedelic blowout of the 1960s. It worked for Cream, did it not? Eric Clapton is remembered more for his wife-stealing tracks and flippant comments than his time with Disraeli Gears. Much the same for Pink Floyd and Roger Waters particularly, remembered better for the shift to progressive rock than the dismantling of it for a quick cash-in, as happened with The Dark Side of the Moon Redux. The same fate will not fall on Atom Heart Mother as it is only of interest to those drifting through the day.
Real people are off listening to the releases of the day, the prime cuts and juicy bits left over by a band who, at the turn of the 1970s, struggled to find a new image for themselves. Yet their boom of instrumental flavour and this clawing, longer form of work marks an eventful and desperate attempt to create a new outlet. Certainly, Atom Mother Heart Suite is a boisterous and booming experience – the twenty-three-minute epic has everything you could ask of Pink Floyd at the time. Backing vocalists a-plenty across a Waters and David Gilmour-helmed powerhouse. It works wonders and is a strong enough opener, the sort of song a band can take pride in making the title of their album. But follow-up If has a lamentable quality, the thudding bass and the whistling guitar match up on a wonderous look at life.
Summer of ‘68 lingers as a call to arms for the band trying to appropriate themselves as the next step of instrumental wonders in the face of changing, fashionable outfits. The death of The Beatles had begun and the top spot was now opening – The Rolling Stones were Stateside and making a mess. Atom Heart Mother certainly gripped listeners of the time and turned the attention of those unsure of what to do with themselves in 1970. Fat Old Sun has the same qualities, the winding road of desperately figuring out the next steps of a band inching closer to a masterful production. It can be heard in the percussion – as soft as it may be – throughout this penultimate track. Closer Alan’s Psychedelic Breakfast has a Charlie Brown instrumental beat, the piano of the opening after those eggs are cracked and sizzling away provides a wild comfort.
Did Waters and company find their hands on the first scratches of ASMR? Those crackling eggs and nondescript kitchen chatter pair well with a slow and moving, often sparse instrumental section. It builds and builds, taking its time as any lazy morning should – and it provides such a treat for the ears. Get your noise-cancelling headphones on and lay back into this warm embrace. Pink Floyd may not be sure of where they are headed but they were absolute in their theory of swift experimentation. Between Atom Heart Mother, Ummagumma and Meddle is the striking tone of a band realising they do not want to be trapped in the psychedelic wheel and instead set off to make lovely tributes to the shuffle of days away from work.
