Ummagumma
Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Pink Floyd
Label: EMI Records
Released: 1969
Rating: 4/5
The first years after the departure of “crazy diamond” Syd Barrett were undoubtedly an extremely turbulent period for Pink Floyd, full of constant, sprawling experimentation in the studio and on stage, including the hunt for a fitting new sonic definition, one that would finally make a clean break with Syd’s psychedelic space-rock legacy and present them as a band with their own unmistakable musical vision and sound. The psychedelic ’60s were slowly nearing their epilogue, and the foundations of prog rock had already been laid, but some of the key founding fathers of every experimental form of rock music were still groping around and living through a minor crisis of sonic identity.
On the two previous albums, “A Saucerful Of Secrets” (1968) and “More” (1969), they managed to showcase the talents of Syd’s successor, guitarist and lead vocalist David Gilmour, who, alongside bassist/vocalist Roger Waters, gradually became one of the two key creative forces in a band where the processes were still relatively democratic, even though they were already known for each member recording separately in the studio. Both albums were top-notch pieces of psychedelic/early progressive rock. Still, Pink Floyd remained a cult but relatively obscure band, with no notable commercial success abroad, if you don’t count the success of their first singles from the Syd era. Even so, they were nowhere near ready to give up their constant experimenting, which usually had little to do with melodic, instantly accessible forms of rock music.
The double album “Ummagumma” was without a doubt the most experimental, obscure and avant-garde project in their history. Its studio half was an unpredictable mix of all their psychedelic experiments up to that point, completely spontaneous avant-garde and the individual instrumental talents of the individual band members. For this release, Pink Floyd decided to put it out as a double project split into a live part and a studio part. For the time, this was without a doubt a hugely original move, and it also guaranteed a sure-fire success, since everyone who couldn’t get through the demanding studio part found some consolation in the live recordings.
The live part of the album, which is also the first half of “Ummagumma”, is far more accessible than its studio counterpart. It’s actually their first live album, a precious document of the band’s early psychedelic period, which hit its peak right here. The recordings come from 1969 shows in Birmingham and Manchester. The performances are mostly their beloved space-rock creations from the early days. First up is the ever-popular “Astronomy Domine”, the only song from the Syd era (“Interstellar Overdrive”, which they were playing at the time as well, was left out for reasons that aren’t entirely clear). This version differed noticeably from Syd’s original, as it featured Gilmour’s and Wright’s vocals and the first verse was repeated twice. The instrumental section was also extended, and before drifting into the final part it included a longer Wright organ solo. There’s also an excellent rendition of “Careful With That Axe, Eugene”, an interesting progressive rock instrumental whose studio version first came out on the compilation “Relics” (1971). With its dramatic organ sounds, simple bass line and Waters’ screaming (which later became a trademark of his on some Floyd tracks), it gradually builds a tense atmosphere that holds even as the performance develops into a longer instrumental jam. The space-rock experiment “Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun” was another must-play live number at the time. This version is noticeably stretched out and packs a bit more dynamics, especially in its use of electronic effects, and the mood sounds distinctly more oriental too. The closing performance of the avant-garde masterpiece “A Saucerful of Secrets” also differs noticeably from its studio version. The cymbal sounds in the intro section are replaced by bass, there are more organ fragments, and the closing section is richer, with all the instruments gradually and dramatically joining in. The crowd rewarded this superb version with thunderous applause. It took almost twenty years until their first official live album, “Delicate Sound Of Thunder” (1988), which seems downright unbelievable. It seems even stranger that, if I don’t count “Is There Anybody Out There” (2000), this live half of “Ummagumma” remains (for now) their only official live recording from the Waters era.
The studio, or second, half of the album was a trip into completely spontaneous, extremely experimental solo pieces by all four members, and the latter could most easily be described through the translation of the word “Ummagumma” itself, which is an English slang term for sexual recreational activities. And that’s exactly how most of these compositions sound, having surely been created under the influence of all sorts of psychoactive substances (the milder kinds, without a doubt), even though the band members never confirmed it (and never will). Most listeners who only know the band’s later, radio-friendly material would surely label this studio half totally unlistenable after one spin, but music gourmets will quickly discover its many hidden charms, which lie mainly in individual high-tension atmospheric moments within the completely spontaneous sections. These are split into four parts, with each member of the band getting space to present their own compositions. Also not to be overlooked is the excellent, totally unique, psychedelically tinted cover by longtime Floyd collaborator Storm Thorgerson, which shows the members changing places in space, until the picture in the portrait becomes tiny and indistinct. Next to the chair on the left you can also spot a vinyl record with the soundtrack from the film “Gigi”.
First to present his experimental symphonic visions was keyboardist Rick Wright with the suite “Sysyphus”, an avant-garde four-part suite about the tragic figure from Greek mythology who is condemned to forever roll a boulder up a hill in the underworld, only for it to tumble back down every time he reaches the top (and so on, over and over, without end). It’s an extremely experimental and psychedelic creation, where Wright conjures up remarkably varied moods by switching between symphonic arrangements on piano, organ and mellotron. The mood in the first section, dominated by dramatic mellotron and organ sounds, is extremely dark and does a good job of conjuring up the image of the eternal convict who has to endure hellish torment in Hades. The second part, dominated by a gentle piano melody, is considerably more subtle. Already toward the end of the second section, though, a sprawling cacophony kicks in, with extra avant-garde percussion bits on Mason’s timpani, freaky effects reminiscent of monkey screeches and Waters’ inarticulate bass flourishes. The closing, fourth section leans a bit toward some early King Crimson thanks to the gloomy orchestral curtains of mellotron, even though the organ sounds in between and the effects reminiscent of birdcalls soften the dark mood somewhat. Still, the closing cacophonous organ sounds and rattling effects are downright creepy and totally obscurely psychedelic. With “Sysyphus”, Wright once again showed himself on the album not just as an excellent keyboardist, but also as an exceptional master of varied moods and the creator of one of the album’s better parts. The dark, tense, in places even slightly epic atmosphere that brings the tragic figure of Sisyphus to life is what makes this completely spontaneous avant-garde composition so appealing.
Next up is Waters’ solo spot, “Grantchester Meadows”, a pleasant pastoral psychedelic folk ballad with his singing and acoustic guitar playing. Throughout the track, special recorded effects bring in the chirping of birds, creating the feeling that the song was recorded somewhere in the middle of a meadow. Midway through you can also hear the honking and flight of some overly uptight goose. Waters’ lyrics describe the pastoral idyll of Grantchester, a typical English village and the birthplace of Waters’ later “best friend” David Gilmour. After the gloomy “Sysyphus”, this was an extremely welcome and relaxing moment on the album, though it’s not one of those Pink Floyd classics that burn themselves into a listener’s heart forever. This folk ballad was typical of Waters’ songwriting style at the time, which also showed later on his solo debut “Music From The Body” (1970) and on “If” from the next Pink Floyd album, “Atom Heart Mother” (1970). Toward the end of the song comes the famous, almost legendary effect of an annoying, ever-louder buzzing fly, which goes on until someone tramps down the stairs and swats it with a newspaper.
But Waters wouldn’t be Waters if, besides the most accessible piece on the album, he hadn’t also contributed the most avant-garde and obscure one. What follows is an ultra-freaky creation with an equally freaky name – “Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict”, which I can say without any trouble is the avant-garde peak of the album and the prime candidate for the most off-the-wall piece in the band’s story. This wacky Waters experiment features numerous obscure effects typical of the musique concrète genre, the kind usually associated with some of Frank Zappa’s pieces. Here it’s an extremely obscure, totally wacked-out mix of sound effects and Waters’ vocal contortions reminiscent of the calls of birds and assorted rodents. Waters used numerous recording tricks here, playing with tape speed and all kinds of manipulation at the microphone. His completely indistinct, unintelligible vocal mugging in a Scottish accent comes off as especially grotesque (the Picts were the ancient ancestors of the Scots, which at least gives the gag some logic). At the end of his mumbling, if you listen closely and slow the recording down, you can hear a “thank you”. There’s also a “hidden message” in the slowed-down playback, where you can hear Waters say “that was pretty avantgarde wasn’t it?” I really couldn’t agree more.
On the interesting, mostly acoustic composition “The Narrow Way”, split into three sections, Gilmour gets his own “five minutes”, offering some of his typical bluesy passages on acoustic guitar, mainly in the first section. Strange effects can be heard in the background the whole time. The second section, played on electric guitar, is much more obscure and likewise packs plenty of psychedelic sounds. The closing section, which can even be called one of the best moments on the album, features Gilmour’s recognizable velvety vocals and an excellent backdrop of slide guitar, mellotron and piano. Of all the moments on the album, this is the best glimpse of their sonic future, mainly thanks to Dave’s vocals, the dreamy slide guitar passages and the ethereal keyboard sounds that later became an inseparable part of the sound of their best period. Interestingly, each of the three sections has a different tempo and sound. Besides his usual vocals and guitar, Gilmour also played bass, piano, mellotron and drums here, successfully proving his multi-instrumental abilities. This composition could be described as a kind of fitting balance between obscure avant-garde psychedelic effects and the melodic instrumental acoustic passages that dominate the studio half of the album.
“The Grand Vizier’s Garden Party” is Mason’s closing instrumental in three parts and yet another avant-garde peak of the album, as it features a series of avant-garde sounds on his percussion. In the first section, “the Grand Vizier of the Ottoman Empire” Mason is briefly accompanied on flute by his then wife Lindy. That’s also the most melodic moment of the whole instrumental, because as soon as the second section kicks in, a series of obscure, psychedelic-sounding percussion follows, mostly sounding like somebody banging on the bottoms of kitchen pots. It all sounds rather cacophonous and totally spontaneous, a matter of momentary inspiration that never manages to create any real atmosphere, the way most of the earlier solo pieces did. At the end of this section, Mason nevertheless shows with an extended drum solo why he’s regarded today as one of the most influential drummers. The last part of the composition, and of the album’s studio half, closes with a combination of flute and percussion and lasts less than a minute. Of all four sections on the album, this one is by far the least interesting, and if it weren’t for the good closing drum solo in the middle, I wouldn’t miss it at all.
“Ummagumma” was, at least as far as its studio half goes, without a doubt one of the most avant-garde and controversial projects in the history of rock music, extremely obscure even by the standards of the wide-open musical era of the late ’60s with its endless musical experiments. For Pink Floyd there were absolutely no obstacles or limits to establishing themselves as the most experimental British rock band of the time, and the music community was also far more open to this kind of venture than it is today and knew how to reward it properly (despite all its obscurity, it was their first album to break into the top hundred on the American chart, and on home soil it reached a very solid placing, the best of all their albums up to that point). This is an album that, as a whole (and not just its more accessible live half), only the most open-minded listeners with more demanding tastes will know how to appreciate properly, and sadly there aren’t many of those left today. Among them, certainly, all the true fans of the band. “Ummagumma” was by no means one of those Pink Floyd masterpieces that belong in every household, but despite all its flaws the album earned an important place among the records that helped define progressive rock and modern experimental music in general. That way it remains a wonderful example of complete spontaneity and freedom from the opinions of label or management, and a product of some much simpler times.
Lineup
David Gilmour – vocals, guitar, organ, piano, bass guitar, drums, mellotron
Roger Waters – bass guitar, vocals, acoustic guitar, gong, effects
Richard Wright – organ, piano, keyboards, vocals, mellotron
Nick Mason – drums, percussion, timpani, effects
GUEST MUSICIAN:
Lindy Mason – flute
Production
Pink Floyd (first half), Norman Smith (second half)
Track list
CD1 (live album):
1. Astronomy Domine (8:29)
2. Careful With That Axe, Eugene (Instrumental) (8:50)
3. Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun (9:12)
4. Saucerful of Secrets (12:48)
CD2 (studio album):
1. Sysyphus, Pt. 1 (1:08)
2. Sysyphus, Pt. 2 (3:30)
3. Sysyphus, Pt. 3 (1:49)
4. Sysyphus, Pt. 4 (6:59)
5. Grantchester Meadows (7:26)
6. Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving with a Pict (4:59)
7. Narrow Way, Pt. 1 (3:27)
8. Narrow Way, Pt. 2 (2:53)
9. Narrow Way, Pt. 3 (5:57)
10. Grand Vizier’s Garden Party: Enterance, Pt. 1 (1:00)
11. Grand Vizier’s Garden Party: Entertainment, Pt. 2 (7:06)
12. Grand Vizier’s Garden Party: Exit, Pt. 3 (0:38)
Running time: 86:11