Pink Floyd – Meddle Review

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How apt a title considering how the legacy and longevity of Pink Floyd is now treated. Meddle away with the post-Roger Waters days and piece together the biggest moments of the David Gilmour days. Meddle is of interest as it marks a seismic shift in the sound and force of the band, and to fans of the band, it offers more than a brief spark of interest. This is the boom of what would become a dominating outfit which has stood the test of time. Something on the horizon, some new experience to be had with a band breaking free from their Syd Barrett-led psychedelics. Find the love in a directionless shot in the dark. Meddle is as free and loose as expected of a band warring with one another, trying to figure out what to do now the psychedelic highs of the 1960s had dried up.  

The turn of the century offered a clean slate, and the bass-riddled opener is a progressive rock masterclass which alarmed those listening in – a clear sign of where Pink Floyd was headed. One of These Days is the forgotten fuse, lit here and now ahead of The Dark Side of the Moon. Pink Floyd shifts gears. Their complete change of pace marks an incredible turn of form and favourable music soon followers – still intricate but fixated on the chemistry between its instruments with vocal work used as a fellow instrument, not the spotlight-snatching slot it once had. Instead, there is a formalised ethic and a sense of belonging to each musician, hinted at slightly when they split up and looked for clues on what their sound could be with Ummagumma. With Liverpool F.C. fans recorded from The Kop on third track Fearless, there is a lucid feel of those footballing achievements stretching through a sound which feels Americanised yet so closely tied to a British sport and a Gerry and the Pacemakers song.  

Pink Floyd has never shied away from intertextuality and the growing cries of “You’ll never walk alone” are a neat burst of a comfortable, prog echo chamber. Gilmour finds his way through these jazz-like grooves and leads the instrumental charge on the sunny feel of San Tropez. It is the quality and quantity butting heads in Pink Floyd which marks the greatest surprise. Listen in to Seamus and hear a few grooves of The Rolling Stones take effect. Elongated vocals, a stripped-back instrumental study as the dogs of hell howl for food. Meddle is a reaction to the times and Pink Floyd found themselves out of step with the rest of their contemporaries, desperately scurrying for something to keep themselves at the top of their game. They found it in Echoes.  

Slow the build of this twenty-minute monster and stifle the ideas that come into it. This is the long and winding promise of albums the band would soon find themselves hailed for. The Dark Side of the Moon can credit the yearning and consolidated build of instrumentals to Echoes, a piece made up of unlinked parts and a huge step for the progressive rock machine. Van Der Graaf Generator wishes. Here we now sit, fifty-three years on from the original release of an album which is not given enough credit. It shifted the paradigm in a whole new way. It did something Pink Floyd was not searching for and the members, bar Barrett, blossomed from this new creation. Ominous drones as the guitar loses itself to the void we all fight off is a touching and horrifying experience. Echoes is worth a listen but as a closer it serves as a kick-on to the next generation of listeners, to what audiences want. There is a spectacular calmness and lucidity to it. Sit back with some concoction of booze, microwaved cabbage water and triple sec, and release your fears to those twinkling horrors.