Why Sidelongs are Better

Why Sidelongs are Better

My three favourite songs are Echoes (Pink Floyd), Close To The Edge (Yes) and Supper’s Ready (Genesis). Now, I can tell people this, and I can almost see the warning bells going off in their head: ‘Watch out, we’re dealing with a prog snob over here! Not a single one of those songs runs less than eighteen minutes!’ Well, that second part is true, as a quick Google search will confirm. However, and this is the point people tend to ignore, so I’ll state it in bold letters here…

I don’t like these songs BECAUSE they’re long. In fact, I would never judge a song based on its length.

Because that makes as little sense as deciding somebody is a nice person just because they’re tall… and let me tell you, I have close friends of all heights and these measurements have no bearing on how great I think they are as people. That being said, I do think there is a correlation between song length and quality above 6 minutes or so, or rather, I think sidelong tracks are more likely to be good songs than their four minute counterparts. Here’s why.

The way I see it, there are two main ways a sidelong can be created. (i) A band sits down and decides to write a song that takes up an entire side of vinyl, or (ii) A band starts to write a song and, in the process, realises that they have enough material to fill a side. I don’t know which of these approaches my favourite songs used and they can probably both be equally effective.

In scenario A, assuming the band is only writing one sidelong (and I can only think of two albums that have more than one) it’s clearly going to be the focus of the album. Therefore, it will have the most amount of time spent on it; it will be modelled to try and turn it into a defining statement. It most likely takes up half the album! The band know that if someone doesn’t like it, they’re unlikely to be a fan of the album as a whole, which is why creating this song is a risk… that risk is only worth taking if the writers really feel like they’re putting everything into this song and making it as good as it possibly can be.

On the other hand, there’s scenario B, which is the song that almost becomes a sidelong by accident. This is a good way of working, too, because there’s no feeling like they absolutely have to fill up those last few minutes of space on the vinyl – it just happens. When a song is conceived to be a standard length but somehow keeps getting longer and longer, there must be a reason for that. The ideas must be flowing easily, nobody forcing them. Despite the band’s best efforts, there are so many musical ideas here that this song just refuses not to be a sidelong. It feels natural and can only become a really great song.

Of course, there are those songs that don’t need to be sidelongs, that are full of mindless jamming that doesn’t go anywhere just to fill space on the record. These don’t count – the arguments above really only apply to sidelongs that are done well. I like to focus on the positive, but I’m acknowledging the other side too here. My three favourite songs, however, are definitely of the careful and well-crafted variety and that is why I think they’re better than they probably would be, had they been conceived as 5-minute songs.

Would it help if I told people that my fourth favourite song was Tomorrow Never Knows?

The Who: A Quick One

A Quick One

Best song: Whiskey Man

Worst song: See My Way

Overall grade: 4

It certainly is a quick one. A far cry from the expanded double albums the band would be putting out in a few short years, here they decide to make their point in 31 minutes and 48 seconds, precisely. In addition, this album sticks out in the Who’s catalogue as being the only real opportunity to assess the songwriting talents of all four members. Aaaand the winner is… John Entwhistle! Pete was of course more prolific, but John was already writing really great songs while Pete wasn’t quite there yet. John pens two of the tunes on this album, the first being ‘Boris the Spider’, the sillier one. But never have I been so invested in the fate of an arachnid! It works as well as it can for what it is, maybe more. But ‘Whiskey Man’ is his true big moment, a simple, sad song with a nostalgic feel to it.

Unexpectedly, Keith Moon also writes good songs! ‘Cobwebs and Strange’ is mostly an excuse for him to do some drum soloing, but it’s kept to a reasonable length and I do get into the way it gets faster and crazier as it goes on, and ‘I Need You’ is quirky pop, not a whole lot to it, but enjoyable nevertheless. Add in the energetic, Beatles-influenced ‘Run Run Run’ and try not to spend too much time thinking about the pointless cover of ‘Heat Wave’ and you have yourself a pretty good novelty of a first side.

I can take or leave Side 2. It’s dragged down a lot by Roger Daltrey’s ‘See My Way’. Anyone who wonders why the guy didn’t write that many songs needs to look no further than here. Almost as bad is ‘Don’t Look Away’ when Pete tries – unsuccessfully – to go country. In fact, the only track on this side that I can honestly say I’d choose to listen to is the hard rocking ‘So Sad About Us’, because it’s heavy and very guitar-driven and kind of makes me understand why kids in the 60s listened to this music and wanted to get out and start their own bands.

The most significant song here is the title track, on which Pete Townshend tries to create a mini rock opera in 9 minutes. The story of a cheating girlfriend certainly makes much more sense than most rock operas, but the music doesn’t – it’s very disjointed, and the different musical ideas don’t flow well into a complete song. Even if they did, I still wouldn’t think it was awesome, as some of the parts are really annoying, particularly ‘Soon Be Home’, which I get no enjoyment out of. The entire song, much like the whole of ‘My Generation’, is more influential than it is good.

This album is an improvement over the last one, and thinking about it, it’s enough to make me raise its grade, even if this is still nothing spectacular. Townshend is putting effort in, though, and before too long it’ll pay off.

Yes: Fragile

Fragile

Best song: Heart of the Sunrise

Worst song: I guess Five Per Cent For Nothing

Overall grade: 6

This album. This album. If Yes had never topped ‘Fragile’, they would still be one of my favourites. It’s just so good. Not everyone thinks so, though. I listened to this in the car today, and my mother was there too, and when it was over the best thing she could think of to say about it was ‘I didn’t find it disturbing’. But then, her favourite song is George Michael’s ‘This Is Not Real Love’, so what does she know?

But if she wants to bitch about this album, she needs her own blog. Right here, I’m going to tell you why ‘Fragile’ is in fact, completely fantastic. And that explanation begins with ‘Roundabout!’ I’ve heard this song probably hundreds of times, because I’m always playing it to people while telling them that they should get into Yes. There’s no way I could get sick of it, though, it’s so perfectly written in the way that it’s both a pop song and a more complicated prog song. The song (and the album as a whole now that I think about it) probably isn’t Jon Anderson’s peak as a songwriter, but as a pop songwriter, yes it is.

I mentioned in my ‘Yes Album’ review that at one point, Jon’s voice behaves as additional instrumentation rather than regular vocals, and that technique is used even more here on ‘South Side of the Sky’ and ‘Long Distance Runaround’, helped out by the fact that they’re buried very low down in the mix (I’ve known people to think that the songs are genuinely instrumental.)

Speaking of ‘South Side of the Sky’, it rules. I just like to sit back and let it all wash over me at once, everything coming together like Rick Wakeman’s gorgeous little piano part in the middle and the fact that Bill Bruford does some of his best Yes drumming here. I like ‘Long Distance’ too (there’s certainly nothing not to like) but it’s the least essential of the group compositions as well as being the most simple.

As you probably know, each band member contributes a little solo piece to this album, ranging from 30 seconds to 3 minutes in length. Bill Bruford’s is disappointing – he is my favourite drummer and he could easily have done a really amazing drum solo, but his ‘Five Per Cent For Nothing’ feels like a rough draft that should have been worked on more. I don’t have many complaints about the others, though. Wakeman plays an arrangement of a classical piece by Brahms, and although I might have slightly preferred an original piece, I enjoy it while it’s on. Anderson layers his vocals on top of each other for ‘We Have Heaven’ and the overall effect is pretty mesmerising, while on ‘The Fish’ Chris Squire shows us all that the bass can be a lead instrument too.

That just leaves Steve Howe’s ‘Mood For A Day’. It’s not at all showy or flashy like the others, and it’s even better for it – it’s probably my favourite of the solo spots. As a guitarist, I feel like Howe really knows when less is more, and his acoustic guitar solos really prove this, in their minimalistic beauty.

The opening to ‘Heart of the Sunrise’ comes as a total contrast to this – Yes remember they’re a rock band! They forget that sometimes, but they definitely haven’t here, as all five of them come together to create a dense track that’s both disjointed and flows really well. The epic beginning focuses on Howe and Bruford’s talents, with Anderson gradually becoming more prominent as the song goes on, and everyone gets a chance to be in the spotlight even while they’re always playing off each other. I’m going to see the band next year, and this is the one song that they aren’t going to play that I really wish they would.

Pulp: Different Class

Different Class 

Best song: Common People

Worst song: Live Bed Show if I have to pick

Grade: 7

I listened to this yesterday afternoon, and I already want to listen to it again. You’d think I’d be sick of it by now, but I’m not, it’s just that kind of album. It also might be one of the hookiest albums ever made… every song gets stuck in my head on a frequent basis, which doesn’t annoy me anywhere near as much as it should, because every song is good.

That’s something you don’t realise at first, though. The big single is the third track, Common People, which reached #2 in the UK, and it deserved to be huge. And the first time I heard the album, I was so blown away by this one song, that I wasn’t really able to appreciate everything that surrounds it. It’s only on subsequent listens that you come to the realisation, ‘Hey, Mis-Shapes is good too! Oh, and so’s Sorted for E’s and Wizz! And so’s… wait, you know what? There isn’t a bad song on here!’

So, what makes these songs so good? Apart from the great melodies, there’s a lot of variety – within every individual song are a lot of different textures; parts where the focus is Jarvis’ voice with very little backing, and parts where there’s a very thick layer of instruments all built up. The tracks are an excellent mix of the accessible (see: the fun, feel-good pop of ‘Disco 2000’) and the slightly more experimental (‘Feeling Called Love’, which is a good explanation of Pulp’s reputation as the artiest Britpop band).  And, it goes without saying, the lyrics, which are some of my all time favourites. A sample: ‘I can’t help it, I was dragged up/My favourite park’s a car park/Grass is something you smoke/Birds are something you shag.’

I chose ‘Live Bed Show’ as the worst song but I still think it’s great, with its smooth, gentle melody and warm feeling that opposes the sadness in its lyrics. But maybe it seems weaker because it comes directly before another ballad, ‘Something Changed’, which I prefer because of the obvious sincerity behind it and the way it messes around with timings – beginning ‘I wrote this song two hours before we met’, but then going on to describe things that happened after they met. So is it all inside his head, a crazy daydream, or does it really happen?

My version of this album has 12 different cover options – little cards that you can slot into the front of the lyrics sheet to create your own cover art. It’s a gimmick but a good one; I change it every time I listen. The covers all feature full-colour scenes with some or all of the band members present, but they’re in black and white. This relates to the idea of being outsiders, a theme that runs through the whole album, which is full of commentaries on other peoples’ lives, other peoples’ relationships, that the narrator is not quite involved in. Yet they still manage to be anthemic and uniting, bringing these oddballs together from ‘We don’t look the same as you, we don’t do the things you do/But we live round here too’ all the way to ‘It’s around the corner in Soho where other broken people go/Let’s go.’

I get a strange sense of righteous anger from these songs. They make me want to go out and change the world.

Radiohead: The Bends

The Bends

Best song: Street Spirit (Fade Out)

Worst song: Sulk

Overall grade: 5

‘The Bends’ is branded as Radiohead’s conventional guitar rock album, but it’s all relative, of course. It’s conventional when you compare it to ‘Amnesiac’, not so much when you compare it to, say, The Wanted. Already we can see the band (Radiohead, not The Wanted) getting fascinated by atmosphere and soundscapes, giving these a more prominent place than regular ‘rockers’.

I mean, the album opens with rushing wind noises. That’s hardly mainstream. The wind whirls by for a few seconds until the guitars come in and ‘Planet Telex’ begins, an obvious highlight. It’s got such a unique arrangement and is full of these weird otherworldly guitar swoops that I love. The following title track is good too – for the first couple of listens it can seem pretty generic, but there’s a lot of really interesting stuff going on in it, like…

‘High & Dry’ has got to be a classic. It’s barely there but it doesn’t go by unnoticed, it really doesn’t need anything more. It’s mostly just vocals and acoustic guitar, very pretty, very minimalistic. And speaking of vocals, when I listen to ‘Fake Plastic Trees’, I’m 99% sure that Thom Yorke can sing higher than me.

‘Bones’ has a much stronger rhythm section than these last two songs and presents a nice contrast because of it. It’s unfortunate that the contrast is between great Radiohead songs and pretty good Radiohead songs, but it breaks up three tracks that have a fairly similar feel, and the album is probably better for it. (Nice Dream) is really, really clever because for the most part it actually FEELS like a dream, as though it’s not actually there. And then there’s that squealy, feedback-y part in the middle where the dream turns into a nightmare. It all sounds like a bit of a cliché when I write it out like that, but it’s not generic at all.

The album trails off towards the end, with tracks eight to ten good but not particularly memorable, and ‘Sulk’ being the one serious flaw. It’s pretty boring and I get the feeling that the band don’t really believe in this song like they do all the others.

We’ve heard several worthwhile contenders over the past 44 minutes, but the winner of the best song title finally goes to ‘Street Spirit (Fade Out)’ – is it bad that I seem to always pick the final track as the best? Well, Radiohead are good at rounding off their albums. This song just feels like night time, equating the day’s end to the album’s end. I have absolutely no idea how to categorise this piece of music. There’s no ‘if you like x song/album/band, you might also like ‘Street Spirit’’, because it’s not like anything else. End of sentence.

This album is much simpler than their later ones, but there’s beauty in its simplicity. Compared to the next three albums, it’s also a lot more warm and inviting – this in itself doesn’t make it any better or worse, but it’s excellent for listening to when you feel depressed.

Nikki Miller: ICT

ICT

Location: http://nikkimiller.bandcamp.com/

Release status: Digital download only

Overall feelings: Positive

This brief, unassuming song opens with a few seconds of casual ukulele strumming, and then after a brief pause, the first verse kicks in. The lyrics are entertaining in their slightly sarcastic description of a lesson at school that the singer does not enjoy, and they make me smile despite the fact that ICT was not compulsory at my school, so I cannot quite empathise.

The artist is clearly talented at playing, although this does not show through to the full extent in this song – there is little emotion behind the vocals meaning that the pain of this boring lesson is not quite believable. Far more prominent is the artist’s gift for pop songwriting, with the chorus’ immediate vocal hook one that will stay with you for a long time to come. There’s also a hook in the main uke line that runs throughout the track, so despite its being acoustic, you’ll be nodding your head along by the end.

I could make the point that the song would be improved by changing up the melody or the ukulele chord sequence towards the end, but then again, at only 1 minute and 12 seconds the song doesn’t have a chance to get boring and is in no way overlong. Besides, it does mix things up during the final chorus, with the harmonised ‘aah’ vocals and the abrupt a cappella ending.  

Overall, this is a fun little song which has very little to dislike about it (including the cover art, which has a controlled carelessness reminiscent of Bowie’s ‘The Next Day’). However, as it is more of a novelty, it may not hold up to repeated listens, and as such I would be interested to see this artist try their hand at some more challenging arrangements and serious subject matter.

Jefferson Airplane: After Bathing At Baxter's

After Bathing at Baxter’s

Best song: the Hymn to an Older Generation suite

Worst song: the How Suite It Is suite

Overall grade: 5

If someone asked me to give them an album that divides opinions, I’d give them ‘Tales From Topographic Oceans’. If they asked me for another one, I’d give them this. Depending on who you ask, it’s either the Airplane’s peak as daring writers of great psychedelic songs, or a risk the band took that failed miserably. I don’t quite agree with either of these viewpoints… it’s not as good as Pillow but it certainly doesn’t fail miserably. Instead, it sees the Airplane becoming disillusioned with their hippy, happy-go-lucky style of songwriting and turning to something bolder and more intense.

That’s good. I like that they changed and didn’t carbon-copy Pillow, because the summer of love was over, people were becoming disillusioned with that lifestyle and both music and the wider world were entering a state of change. This album represents that.

The fact that this album is divided up into five suites of two to three songs, and that every ‘I’ in the song titles is replaced with a ‘Y’ makes this album as pretentious as most of ’73-’74 prog (and that’s the second ‘Tales’ reference in this review that really has nothing to do with it.) Seriously, though, this album is clearly proto-prog as well as acid rock and an early version of space rock. Since it’s proto/early/whatever, though, the techniques haven’t been refined yet, and although parts of it work really well, other parts don’t so much.

It shouldn’t come as a shock that the part that works best of all is the Grace Slick-penned tune, ‘rejoyce’. It’s a little bit chilling and a lot of awesome and it grips me from start to finish. I’d be interesting to know why this is her only songwriting credit – is it all she wrote or just all the band liked? Also, why did she write life-changing songs like this and ‘White Rabbit’ on Airplane albums but never had a great solo album?

But the whole of the first suite is good. It’s two unrelated songs, ‘The Ballad of You & Me & Pooneil’ which is Kantner’s take on a White Rabbit-esque song, and ‘Young Girl Sunday Blues’, which are linked by a collage of human voices and random sound effects, like a cross between Frank Zappa and Simon & Garfunkel’s ‘Voices of Old People’. From later suites, highlights include ‘Martha’, a tune that’s incredibly dark while proving that the band haven’t forgotten their folk roots, and ‘Two Heads’ – no, the whole of the fifth and final suite is cool. It covers a lot of different styles in its eight-odd minutes and even manages to work in some more unusual Indian instruments. In fact, the whole band seem to have become more confident instrumentally between the last album and this one, particularly Jorma Kaukonen.

First time I listened, I spent two-thirds of this album hoping that the band would play a full-blown acid rock instrumental, a la the Grateful Dead, and then they did, but it was a huge disappointment. I mean, does ‘Spare Chaynge’ really go anywhere? It’s not fulfilling. It’s similar to the way that lettuce is technically a food, but it doesn’t fill you up. Even if it creates diversity by being there, I’d have rather the track was replaced by something that plays more to their strengths. Or just worked on more, I don’t know.

It’s not the historical artefact that Pillow was, but it’s great in its own way, and should sit alongside it in anyone’s 60s rock collection. (yes, I group CDs by release date.)

Steve Hackett: Genesis Revisited concert

Steve Hackett’s Genesis Revisited

Date: 9 May 2013

Location: Aylesbury Waterside Theatre, UK

Support: n/a

Special guests: Nik Kershaw, Steve Rothery, Amanda Lehmann, John Wetton, Jakko Jakszyck

I like many things about 2013. I like the fact that I can access and listen to both modern and older music, and I like the fact that I can access information about said music at the click of a button, and I like the fact that CSI is always on TV. But I don’t like the fact that there are many, many great bands that I will never get to see live, and Genesis are for sure one of these bands. So when I was told that Steve Hackett, guitarist from the band’s best years, would be out there playing a selection of their best songs, I jumped at the chance to go, even though Thursday nights are technically not a good time for me to go out. So I went, and I’m really glad I did.

I was slightly late in arriving to the venue, and I could already hear the music when I was heading in. I found out that the song I’d missed was ‘Watcher of the Skies’ – I love that song! I understand its positioning, it’s a brilliant opener, but if only I’d been ten minutes faster… as it happened, when I got there Hackett and his accompanying musicians were halfway through ‘The Chamber of 32 Doors’, complete with brightly coloured lights and projections on the back wall, and it was clear that the audience were enjoying it but weren’t completely engrossed yet. Many of them were at the bar or conducting whispered conversations, giving me a chance to find a space near the front of the standing section with a good view of the stage.

But a huge cheer erupted after the a cappella beginning of the next song, ‘Dancing with the Moonlit Knight’, and I am so glad I didn’t miss that one; it has to be one of the greatest songs ever written. I knew in advance that that would be a highlight, but the unexpected surprise of the night was ‘Shadow of the Heirophant’, the only song I didn’t know prior to the concert, as it’s from one of his solo albums. (Although as Hackett himself pointed out, it counts as Genesis Revisited because it was co-written with Mike Rutherford. Considering it was a first listen, it made a pretty big impression on me.

I wasn’t 100% sure the songs would all be familiar to me, as I didn’t know how much they were like the originals and how much they were reworkings. It was definitely closer to the first; most of what he played was similar to the original Genesis versions, although understandably there was a bigger focus on guitar in quite a few of them. The biggest change in several places was the addition of the guest musicians. Amanda Lehmann provided vocals on ‘Entangled’ and the change to a female singer was surprising at first, and surprisingly good by the end. Ditto to Nik Kershaw’s vocal style on ‘The Lamia’.

I didn’t know about this in advance, so it was an awesome moment for me when, just before ‘Afterglow’, a new special guest was announced: John Wetton! John freaking Wetton, bassist for Family and some of the best King Crimson albums, there right in front of me! Unbelievable! Oh, and Steven Wilson’s mum was also there, apparently (though she didn’t play anything, she just watched.)

I’m not sure at what point this happened, and it was probably gradual, but somewhere around the ‘Unquiet Slumber / In That Quiet Earth / Afterglow’ trilogy, I noticed that the audience has stopped moving around and were fully paying attention, and by ‘I Know What I Like’ everyone was singing along. Then when ‘Dance on a Volcano’ was announced with Steve’s words ‘This one’s in 7/8 time… it’s progtastic!’ and everybody cheered before they even knew which song it was, I knew I was in a room full of likeminded people. And the same again when over half of the people standing around me knew every single word to the set’s closer, ‘Supper’s Ready’ – singing that song along with a thousand other people was a real feeling of community.

And then, after an impossibly long break where part of me thought he wasn’t going to come back, Hackett returned to the stage to play – what else – ‘Firth of Fifth’, along with ‘Los Endos’. I could quibble slightly and say that I would have preferred them the other way around, but the atmosphere was so perfect by this point that I was enjoying everything.

Overall, I thought the setlist was really well chosen. Hackett has a songwriting credit on everything he played, and he didn’t play anything that would really suffer from the loss of one of the other Genesis members (eg. ‘Get Em Out By Friday). I’d never heard Hackett’s reworkings of any of these before I went to the show, and I’d never heard any of his solo work, but I’m definitely interested in picking up some of his albums now.

For the next few nights after I went, I wished I was going again. It was a great experience with its mixture of classic moments and new, interesting twists to the songs, and I would recommend it to any fan of Peter Gabriel’s Genesis.

Pink Floyd: A Saucerful of Secrets

A Saucerful of Secrets

Best song: Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun

Worst song: See-Saw

Overall grade: 5

Nick Mason is seriously underrated. Not as a drummer, he was never that great at that, but in his importance to the band as a whole. And by that I’m not talking about the sound effects or studio work, I just mean that (as comes across in his book) he has this great easygoing nature, and I actually have this theory that if it wasn’t for him keeping the peace, the band would have split up far earlier than they eventually did – possibly even before The Wall.

But he couldn’t prevent the problems this early incarnation of the band had. This album contains the last traces of Syd Barrett’s version of the band, most notably in the disturbing standout closer ‘Jugband Blues’, which provides the missing link between Piper and The Madcap Laughs. It’s wonderfully bleak, with cryptic lyrics and simple guitar contrasted to the Salvation Army band that plays in the middle, and it always makes me cry. It could only work as the final track.

The album’s also a new beginning. Several of the tracks here feature songwriting and guitar contributions from new guitarist David Gilmour. The title track in particular is outstanding… with sections that were originally titled ‘Nick’s Boogie’ and ‘Richard’s Rave Up’ I feel like the eventual titles fit the piece a lot better. It’s weird and experimental and at times you have no idea what you’re listening to, but it’s a great early example of the Gilmour/Waters songwriting partnership bringing the band’s best work. I’m also a big fan of ‘Let There Be More Light’ which has a really memorable bassline and David Gilmour’s first-ever guitar solo with the group. And I’ve always liked the title for some reason.

 So there are great songs, but then they’re balanced out by a bit of filler, like ‘See-Saw’ – which technically has nothing wrong with it but has nothing to remember it either – and ‘Remember a Day’ which I quite enjoy, but at the same time is like a poorer version of a Syd Barrett single. I actually enjoy ‘Corporal Clegg’ as a standalone song and a kind of novelty tune (single: ‘Corporal Clegg’ by Roger Waters feat. Nick Mason on kazoo) but it definitely don’t fit in with the early-space-rock theme of the album.

I think it’s fitting that ‘Set the Controls…’ is the best track on here, considering it’s rumoured that all five members play on it, making it unique in the Floyd catalogue. It’s very quiet, nothing like the noisy freak-out of the title track, and its sinister atmosphere that’s mostly down to Rick Wright’s organ work and whispered lyrics make it into a classic. One of the few early Floyd songs where the studio version almost equals the live version.

Considering that this album should feel like the disjointed ramblings of a band with no idea what direction they’re going in, I think the fairly minor drop in quality between Piper and this is a remarkable feat, and if they had kept up the greatness of the good tracks for the whole album, I would have had no problem giving Saucerful a 7 too.

King Crimson: In the Court of the Crimson King

In the Court of the Crimson King

Best song: The Court of the Crimson King

Worst song: Moonchild

Overall grade: 7

Greg Lake’s voice blows me away. Even on 21^st Century Schizoid Man, where it’s so distorted you can barely make out what he’s saying, it’s just… wow. King Crimson were mighty inconsistent but they had a handful of outstanding albums with little to elevate one above another, so I’m not ashamed to say that it’s Greg Lake’s presence that pushes this one to the top of the pile for me. I reckon he just edges out Peter Gabriel for my favourite vocalist ever, and his best work can be found right here.

I could just write 500 words on the power and intensity and the hundreds of different emotions of Lake’s voice, but I want people to actually read this, so I won’t. Instead, I’ll talk about the other things that make it awesome! The album, that is, not his voice. There are just five songs, four of them are close to flawless, and put together they would make something that’s incredibly worthy of the title ‘first ever progressive rock album’, whether it’s completely true or not.

We kick things off with ‘21^st Century Schizoid Man’, which is still different to anything else I’ve ever heard, so I can only imagine what it was like in 1969. Then there’s ‘I Talk To The Wind’. King Crimson are generally thought of as being one of the heavier, more avant-garde of prog bands, but this song proves that they could do the other side of things just as well. It’s so light and floaty, led by Ian McDonald’s flute and light on the drums.

Closing off Side One is ‘Epitaph’, and listening to this makes it easy to see why the genre immediately got its reputation of being bombastic and pretentious – two traits which many people see as automatically negative, as when they’re done well (like here!) they can work. Although Lake’s voice is so far down in the mix here that I’m often straining to hear it and miss other details of the song.

‘Moonchild’ is the only one here that I don’t consider one of the four classics. The first two and a half minutes are another ‘I Talk To The Wind’-style ballad, only nowhere near as awesome, but it’s the following ten minutes that I’m going to complain about. That being said, though, I don’t have the strong reaction to it that most people do. I’ve heard it called unlistenable, but it doesn’t repulse me, more, it disappoints me. Up to this point every note of every song has felt like it was planned out and agonised over so that it would be exactly right, but here, it’s so aimless. It’s not even a proper instrumental jam – it’s more like everyone said ‘I think I’m just going to play three random notes, trail off and wait for someone else to do the same kind of thing…’ Why? Why, when you have a group of such obviously talented songwriters, would you waste ten minutes on that?

But it’s OK! We finish off with ‘The Court of the Crimson King’ and this, maybe this was the whole point. Robert Fripp and co. made us sit through all of ‘Moonchild’ just so that this epic would seem even better by comparison! Let me tell you, that moment around the 8 minute mark just after ‘The Dance of the Puppets’ when the whole band comes crashing back in – that makes it worth it, every single time. The whole song is stunning, powerful, and keeps me on the edge of my seat for the whole 9 minutes. Prog would get better than this, but not much.

(Fun game: listen to any other prog band and try to guess which of these five songs they were most inspired by.)

Pulp: His N Hers

His ‘N’ Hers (1994)

Best song: Pink Glove

Worst song: Someone Like the Moon

Grade: 5

When it comes to this album, I wish more than anything that I could go back and listen to it at the time it was released, judging it completely out of context. Because as it is, I can’t help but compare it to what came later. As good as much of this album is, most of the styles and elements here would then be improved on Different Class, making it difficult to truly judge the individual merits of this one.

That complaint out of the way, I actually enjoy most of it a lot. Jarvis Cocker’s lyrics are already pretty awesome, like on the biting imitation of an ambitionless thug that’s present in ‘Joyriders’ or the wonderful dream-related imagery in ‘Acrylic Afternoons’. But while most of the songs are very catchy, there isn’t one standout anthemic tune, and I also don’t find that the album has any kind of structure: a lot of the time it feels like the songs are arbitrarily placed, maybe by pulling names out of a hat.

For example, there’s a song halfway through, ‘Happy Endings’, that has the stereotypical bombastic feel of an album closer, with the swelling instruments and vocals and the empowering message Jarvis is trying to impart on the song’s subject, and I can’t help but think this would be perfectly placed as the second-to-last track on the album. It would feel like the culmination of all the songs to that point, but then when it was over, the real final song would start, reminding us that Pulp’s idea of relationships isn’t about happy endings at all. It’s far more seedy and shameful than that, it’s illicit affairs with the emphasis on sex rather than love.

That final song, ‘David’s Last Summer’, is the only track I feel is well placed, and it’s unique, without an equivalent on the next album. Most of the lyrics are spoken which creates an odd, effective feeling of separation between them and the music, except for the short choruses, which are sung, creating a rare harmony. It’s like the summer the lyrics talk about – nice, but far too short to last. And the title creeps me out, too. Why is it his last summer? What happens to him next?

It wasn’t easy to choose a ‘best song’ here as any of the singles and at least half of the album tracks could qualify, but eventually I went for ‘Pink Glove’ because it has the best hook out of all of them, it’s got a great ominous atmosphere, and the sheer emotion in Jarvis’ voice gets me every time.

‘His ‘N’ Hers’ is seriously overproduced, far too slick, every sound having gone through some sort of computer so none of it sounds quite real, and yet somehow, it works. Maybe it’s because everything the songs are about is so real. I know I’ve had relationships like these and some lines are so true they make me cringe. In short, this is an album full of contrasts, full of the unexpected.

(Also, I don’t know if other people have noticed this, but in ‘Babies’ there’s a line: ‘And she came round four/And she was with some kid called David’ – same David as the one in ‘David’s Last Summer’?)

Nirvana: Nevermind

Nevermind

Best song: Something In The Way

Worst song: On A Plain

Overall grade: 4

If there’s one type of person I really can’t stand, it is the Nirvana superfan. You know, the one who’s all ‘Nirvana is the greatest thing that ever happened to music! Kurt Cobain is a genius and no other songwriter before or since could come anywhere close!’ The kind who worships the band with an undying devotion and considers them impossible of doing any wrong. Now, many bands have a subset of fans like this one, but Nirvana’s are some of the most extreme I’ve come across. And I’ve never told any of them this because I’m a coward who doesn’t like having eggs thrown at her, but…

‘Nevermind’ is so overrated.

I mean, I like it and all. I can even see why people love it. But this whole ‘greatest album of the 90s, singlehandedly saved rock’ rubbish is just that. If you asked me the greatest album of the 90s, that’d be… well, that review’s coming up next week and I won’t spoil it. And I don’t think there’s one album that singlehandedly saved rock. Even as far as grunge goes, when that’s what I’m in the mood for I’m more likely to put on Pearl Jam.

But I do still like this album (cannot stress that enough) and I have tried very hard to understand what it is about Kurt Cobain that makes people worship him like others worship John Lennon or Bob Dylan. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s because he seems like a real person. He doesn’t seem like someone famous, from another world who has a lot of money and spends his time writing songs/making records; he seems like the slightly weird guy who sits at the back of your maths class or a random, hunched-over dude with big headphones who you notice on the bus, and he just happens to write songs in his spare time. Which accidentally get released and become huge hits, of course.

I don’t know how much this is true and how much it’s an act, so it’s not why I like him; I like him because he took simple pop tunes and put them through punk and metal filters so that they came out as a schizophrenic blend of both. It’s a very effective way of appealing to a wide variety of people, but of course, it was so effective that he just repeated it every time for every song, with one or two exceptions. I’ll quickly mention these: ‘Something In The Way’ reminds me of the Beatles and is a surprising, but excellent, finish, and it even has a cello, which is cool. I love ‘Polly’ too, it’s a song that really sucks me into the story. But I won’t talk about the huge hit songs – what is there to say? Apart from the fact that Dave Grohl’s drumming sets them apart slightly from other big radio hits of the time.

This record, well, it’s a contradiction in terms. It’s meant to be alternative and anti-mainstream but it’s actually incredibly accessible and fun; it’s supposed to be revolutionary but much of the bass and guitar work is pretty generic. I think its reputation has spoiled it a bit. I’m supposed to like it so much that I find myself drifting in the opposite direction until I actually listen to it. That’s the moment when I realise, these songs are mostly good and yeah, these guys had talent. Just maybe not for quite the same things as a lot of people think.

Simon & Garfunkel: Sounds of Silence

Sounds of Silence 

Best song: The Sound of Silence

Worst song: Anji

Grade: 4

I hate giving this a 4, I really do, because I have so much history with it. Simon & Garfunkel are the band that really got me interested in music – I heard the songs ‘I Am a Rock’ and ‘The Sound of Silence’ and I was completely blown away, because I didn’t know music could sound like that, safe in my bubble of McFly and Busted. The next day I walked down to the shops and into HMV, and making sure nobody was looking, I searched to see if they had any Simon & Garfunkel. They did; this one, and so it was the first CD I ever bought for myself.

Course, that means every single song has a lot of nostalgia for me, but looking at it with critical eyes, it’s patchy. The almost-title track is outstanding, of course, with the way it starts off so quiet and intimate with Paul Simon almost whispering the first line, and builds up all the way to the crescendo of ‘And the sign said the words of the prophets were written on the subway walls…’ Yeah, a classic. ‘Leaves That Are Green’ is folky and fun, but without the substance that’s present in their best work. ‘Blessed’ is an attempt at being a bit more harder-rocking, and while it’s not a total failure, it feels a bit awkward at times, like they’re not quite comfortable with the style.

Then we come to Kathy’s Song, which has a gorgeous melody, but disappointingly lacks any Art Garfunkel, and I firmly believe that Simon and Garfunkel were both at their best when they worked together. 'Somewhere They Can't Find Me' just annoys me, since it's an ugly, inferior reworking of the song 'Wednesday Morning, 3A.M.' on their debut, with a radio chorus added. I never used to like 'Anji' back when I was generally against instrumentals, but now that I really love a good instrumental track... I still don't like it. It's a pointless piece of filler and an album this short (not even 30 minutes!) really can't afford to have any filler. 368

The first two tracks on Side 2, 'Richard Cory' and 'A Most Peculiar Man', are both about men who commit suicide, which is a cheerful subject on the sunny day that I'm writing this. The arrangements are very different, though, with the first an upbeat, guitar-based, poppy number, and the second a slow, thoughtful ballad. They're both very good in their own way, though. But it's downhill from there with the boring 'April Come She Will' and 'We've Got A Groovy Thing Going', a song which would be much improved on with the later '59th Street Bridge Song.'

Luckily, the end of the album is raised far above these two with the second classic here, 'I Am A Rock'. It’s perfect in the way it looks at social alienation, but not so much in a negative way. It still manages to be fun and bouncy and in an ironic way, it feels like a song that can unite people.

'Sounds of Silence' is definitely worth listening to if you're a big fan of the later work, and certainly has its moments, but I wouldn't advise starting here – they would go on to make far more consistent, and possible far more daring, albums than this one.

Yes: The Yes Album

The Yes Album

Best song: Perpetual Change

Worst song: A Venture

Overall grade: 6

Two years ago, Yes were writing cute pop songs and playing Paul McCartney covers. They released two albums which can only be recommended as curiosities (with the exception of the standout title track of ‘Time and a Word’, which has to be the definitive hippie song), muddled through with a mediocre guitarist and used an orchestra to try to hide the fact that their songwriting wasn’t quite up to par. Then, completely out of the blue, they release… this.

See, they fired that mediocre guitarist (Peter Banks) and hired Steve Howe in his place, and all of a sudden the band just clicked (except for Tony Banks on keyboards, but we’ll get to that) and they found that they had this magical ability to write songs that are complicated and accessible in equal measure, and they were all talented enough instrumentally to pull them off effortlessly.

This record is the start of progressive Yes, but while they were still rough around the edges. We start off with ‘Yours Is No Disgrace’, one of the few Yes songs where their opponents who say ‘Jon Anderson just sings gibberish!’ are probably right. It’s still a great song though; Bill Bruford has a thrilling drum part and there are few more beautiful vocal melodies around.

Then ‘The Clap’ comes, a brief acoustic guitar showcase by Steve Howe – he was new to the band, and he already got a solo! That’s democracy. It’s a highly enjoyable demonstration of his talent and serves as a bridge between the two epics on the side. The second of these is ‘Starship Trooper’, a great three-part song where every part builds and expands on the one before it. It’s different to everything else on here, in that it’s less classical and jazz influenced, and much closer to space rock.

Side 2 begins with ‘I’ve Seen All Good People’, which I hear still gets played on the radio, but sadly none that I listen to. What I like about this one is the way, in the second part, Jon Anderson uses his voice as just another instrument, blending in with the guitar and bass and keyboards – you could almost consider it an instrumental. And I also love the a cappella harmony that opens up the ‘Your Move’ part. It makes me shiver.

‘A Venture’ tries to be the Side 2 equivalent of ‘The Clap’, but it doesn’t work, because it’s too much of a song. It feels like it could have been developed and extended into something more like the others, but instead it’s a little rushed, more of a rough draft. But it does bring us nicely to ‘Perpetual Change’, which is a SERIOUSLY underrated song. Most people see it as the weakest epic on the album, but that’s a lie – it’s magical. Featuring two dynamic guitar solos, a rockin’ Squire riff, the most cohesive band work yet and a generally nostalgic feel, it’s hard to believe while listening to this version that it was even better live.

I think everyone should be forced to sit down and listen to a Yes record at least once a month. Their music is good for the soul.

Radiohead: Pablo Honey

Pablo Honey

Best song: Blow Out

Worst song: How Do You

Overall grade: 4

This is the first Radiohead album; the one that almost everyone ignores. Before I decided to review them, I’d heard it, but I’d never properly listened to it or given it the time and attention I have all the later Radiohead albums. Now that I have, I’ve realised I enjoy it a whole lot, nearly as much as The Bends. It may be just a bunch of 90s alt rock tunes that sound pretty similar to hundreds of other bands of the time, but it’s very high class 90s alt rock, and I’d definitely take it over anything by, say, Weezer or Beck.

Part of this, I think, is down to the sheer charisma that Thom Yorke exudes all the time. It doesn’t seem like he puts any effort into this, but something about him just makes me want to listen to him. Radiohead’s music has always had this great quality of drawing you in and making you want more.

The songs are a mixed bag. On the one hand, there’s the band’s first hit single ‘Creep’, which deserves its status. Those dead notes Johnny Greenwood plays really took me by surprise when I first heard them, and they still give me a thrill. There’s a great interplay between the vocals and the guitars; ditto for the opener ‘You’ (part of which is in 11/8 time! Yay!) ‘ On the other hand, there’s the following track, ‘How Do You’, which is a good example of punk done badly. A bit of shouting and a lot of excessive guitar noise and people are supposed to be too busy headbanging to realise that it sucks.

Pablo Honey is definitely better when it gets more personal. I’m a big fan of ‘Stop Whispering’, which definitely has this quality. I swear it’s being performed for me and me alone, right now, rather than 20 years ago in the middle of a recording studio. And then there’s ‘Thinking About You’, a short acoustic song with a nice organ part. And also ‘Anyone Can Play Guitar’ has a great bass line, as well as the moment where Yorke sings ‘I wanna be wanna be wanna be Jim Morrison!’ which might be the only moment in Radiohead history where he sounds like he’s letting go and not carefully controlling every note.

Unfortunately, one thing I notice all the way through is that the band really haven’t figured out how to write a decent instrumental break yet. In addition, the album certainly gets a bit samey in the second half, like in ‘Vegetable’, which is just bleh, but there are enough good moments to keep it from getting boring, like the cool marching drums part in the coda to ‘I Can’t’.

I’m someone who thinks endings are really important. The final track can make or break a record for me, and this one here certainly makes it. ‘Blow Out’ is the clearest sign pointing towards where Radiohead would go next, with its jazzy influences and its clever use of dynamics and buildups. It gives the sense that even over the past 42 minutes, the band have matured, and are getting ready to become something really special.

Jefferson Airplane: Surrealistic Pillow

Surrealistic Pillow

Best song: White Rabbit

Worst song: My Best Friend

Overall grade: 6

This is either a really high 5 or a really low 6 and I haven’t quite made up my mind, so I think I’ll fill in that bit at the end. Is it possible for a record to be dated in a good way? If so, Jefferson Airplane’s ‘Surrealistic Pillow’ certainly fits this definition. It’s a product of the times, and no part of it is relevant today, but it’s a wonderful document of the 1960s San Francisco hippy scene and the attitudes that went along with it.

I find this album interesting because it’s got a huge mishmash of writers (there are seven in total) so you get a very diverse range of approaches, and yet it still manages to stand together as a cohesive statement. Clever trick. Only one of the songs was written by Grace Slick, who was new to the Airplane here (it’s their second album overall but I don’t have the first one) and that’s ‘White Rabbit’. It’s a slightly creepy, slightly evil take on Alice in Wonderland, taking away the innocence of Alice’s dream and replacing it with drug metaphors. Grace’s voice is captivating throughout and I love the way it builds to a crescendo, but the song is far too short. I want it to go on for ten or fifteen minutes more.

There are other high points, though. ‘She Has Funny Cars’ sets the tone of the album right from its excellent drum opening, and the instruments in the backing play a blend of psychedelia and Fifties rock’n’roll. The two contrasting voices of Marty Balin and Grace Slick make for some really nice harmonies. ‘Somebody to Love’ follows, the biggest single. The vocals here are really over the top, but that makes sense in the context of the song.  And ‘3/5 of a Mile in 10 Seconds’ feels really spontaneous, and the instrumental jam part at the end foreshadows their next album (more on that later).

Then we have some more lightweight hippy stuff, namely ‘My Best Friend’ (named as the weak track only because I don’t think the album would suffer from its not being included) and ‘Today’. It’s a complete overload of positive feelings and friendship! They could probably get annoying really quickly, so don’t listen to either of them if you’re in a bad mood. The next song ‘Comin’ Back to Me’, is quieter, and although the lyrics are still happy and upbeat, it seems like a contrast to the previous two owing to its being in the minor key. I also want to shout out to ‘How Do You Feel’, just because it’s so chilled out. The whole band seem to be laid back just in the way they play their instruments – how did they do that?

Oh, I also like ‘Embryonic Journey’. Because it’s actually reminiscent of an embryonic journey… I’m pretty sure that’s just a more wordy way of saying ‘birth’.

You’ll notice that in most of these songs, I’ve focused more on the general feel of them than the actual content. That’s because the songwriting itself isn’t what makes this record stand out. That’s down to how well it captures how it must have felt to live through these times. As long as there are people who are vaguely interested in this period of history, people will listen to this and enjoy it and understand it, and that’s why I’ve decided to give it a 6.

Great title, too. ‘Surrealistic Pillow’. That’s awesome.

Joy Division: Unknown Pleasures

Unknown Pleasures

Best song: She’s Lost Control

Worst song: Interzone

Overall grade: 6

I recently saw someone wearing an ‘Unknown Pleasures’ T-shirt and had an internal debate about whether to go over and talk to them. I didn’t, because I knew there was a chance they didn’t actually know the album and just liked the design, but assuming they did, it made me realise: it isn’t an album you just listen to quietly, put away and don’t tell anyone about. You have to wear its T-shirt, send it to your friends, and shout out: ‘Unknown Pleasures is freaking awesome!’

Since its release it’s come to be labelled as ‘post-punk’, but at the time, it defied classification. It clearly had punk influences, but it was different. More focused. Very cold, calculated and relentlessly dark. Every part of it feels like it has a direction – that  Ian Curtis knew exactly what he was doing and wasn’t going to settle for any filler or anything that didn’t demand your full attention.

‘She’s Lost Control’, with its strong and repeated vocal hook, was the only song that really stood out to me on first listen, with everything else blending into one, but over time I’ve come to appreciate the differences between them. For example, you’ve got ‘Wilderness’, which is the one that’s full of the intermittent drum parts, ‘Disorder’ is the one with the awesome bassline, ‘I Remember Nothing’ is the one that’s mostly built on atmosphere, and ‘Interzone’ is the one that nobody actually cares about.     

The melodies here are unpredictable and slightly messed up – you can see this best on ‘Day of the Lords’, one of the better slower songs, although who cares about the minor difference in quality between this song and the almost-as-good ‘Candidate’ with its call-and-response bass/vocal lines, or the haunting ‘New Dawn Fades’? Also, can you tell I’m finding this review really difficult to write? I guess this is an album that’s incredibly hard to find words for. You know every song has an effect, but working out what that effect is is much harder.

A friend of mine likes Joy Division in theory but complains about the vocals. Ian Curtis certainly can’t sing as well as he writes, but his singing does nevertheless add to the lyrics. In places it’s full of emotion, and then in other places it’s even more effective in the way it’s robotic and apathetic, which is a far better description of depression.

If I had a list of top albums based on production, this would be my favourite. It’s pretty much perfect, creating an illusion of spaciousness and distance and the idea that you can never quite reach it. ‘Interzone’ may be weaker, and ‘I Remember Nothing’ an acquired taste to many, but I really think this album can only be appreciated properly when it’s listened to all at once. It’s such an insight (haha, Joy Division puns) into how Ian Curtis was feeling at the time he was writing it, yet at the same time, it still seems surrounded in mystery.

The Who: My Generation

My Generation

Best song: The Kids Are Alright

Worst song: Please Please Please

Overall grade: 3

I don’t understand why this is hailed as a classic. I understand why it’s influential, certainly, it’s an obvious example of a protopunk record and definitely inspired a whole host of later bands, but it’s not a good punk record (of the kind that would later be released by the Clash and the Ramones.) It makes me wonder if, had the punk movement never happened, this would still be in such high regard of most critics, or if it would be forgotten.

 I can find three songs here that I actively enjoy. Then most of the others have something going for them, but nowhere near enough to keep me occupied for their full running time. And then there’s a couple that I just despise.

I’ll start with the positives: ‘My Generation’ is angry and snarky and I love the way Roger Daltrey stutters his vocals. It gives the impression that the band have a point to make and a reason for existing. ‘The Kids Are Alright’ might be the most melodic and poppy song on here, and a great showcase for Keith Moon’s drumming technique. It’s still got a lot of power and purpose but is a lot more sophisticated than most songs here. And ‘The Ox’, the instrumental that closes the British version of this album is heavy and thudding and sinister. It’s credited to the whole band butt it’s very bass-driven, very much John Entwhistle’s piece, and John Entwhistle is fucking awesome. If he’d written a couple more of these maybe I’d like the album as a whole a bit more.

Other good moments here include the guitar part that opens ‘The Good’s Gone’, which is really clever. There are some decent hooks on ‘La-La-La-Lies’ and ‘Much Too Much’, even if the songs themselves are a bit immature. And on ‘It’s Not True’, a really stupid song with lyrics that I just hate (and they have the nerve to repeat them!) the ‘So there!’ at the end is worth it, it’s got so much attitude behind it.

But of course, these things are not the reason I gave the album a failing grade. The production is too rough and the overall sound quality isn’t up to much, which doesn’t make it easy to listen to. I’d rather go without the first two songs, ‘Out In The Street’ in particular I find really repetitive. Roger Daltrey’s voice in these early years is almost unlistenable. He’s trying to emulate 50’s rock and roll/RnB musicians and failing miserably. And there’s the covers, the worst offender of which is ‘Please Please Please’. In my notebook where I was taking notes while listening, all I wrote next to this one is ‘WHY TORTURE ME LIKE THIS?’ and that about sums it up.

In conclusion, I don’t hate this album, but I do get tired of it in several places, and I could certainly live without it. Rumour has it the band themselves consider it rushed and not as good as their live performances… I’d have to agree. I’d much rather listen to ‘Live at Leeds’.

Pink Floyd: The Piper at the Gates of Dawn

The Piper at the Gates of Dawn

Best song: Interstellar Overdrive

Worst song: Take Up Thy Stethoscope and Walk

Overall grade: 7

Syd Barrett writing songs, back when he was very weird, but it wasn’t yet the disturbing kind of weird that made you realise his mental state was completely beyond repair. No, on Piper, I actually wouldn’t object to being inside the mind that came up with this.

At this point in Pink Floyd’s history, they were playing live shows pretty much every night, and these consisted mainly of long, instrumental, acid-rock jams, and this side of the band is represented in the group compositions; the best of these being Interstellar Overdrive – a brilliant headphones song that rivals the Grateful Dead and Hawkwind in making you feel like you’re taking an acid trip in outer space. The others in this style, Astronomy Domine and Pow R Toc H. are both excellent too, already hinting at the band’s later fascination with studio effects and gimmicks.

But the album is also packed with songs that show a side of the band you couldn’t find by going to their live shows – the three-minute psychedelic pop tracks, almost any of which could have been singles. My favourite of these is Lucifer Sam when taken overall – it’s a really cool bass-driven song with a great vocal hook and some funky instrument noises scattered through it. When looking at the lyrics, though, Flaming is the best; a tale of two kids playing hide and seek with some great imagery (Watching buttercups cup the light/Sleeping on a dandelion) and the classic childlike squeal of ‘Yippee! You can’t see me but I can you.’

The Barrett composition on here that most people bash is side 2’s Chapter 24, and while not as strong as many of the other songs, I really like the hypnotic quality of Syd’s voice – he’s almost detached as he recites the lyrics, which is appropriate considering they weren’t written by him but instead taken from the I-Ching (Chinese Book of Changes).

However, the other song that everyone complains about is the side one closer and sole Roger Waters composition, ‘Take Up Thy Stethoscope and Walk’, and that one’s justified. The lyrics are by far the worst he would ever write, and I can’t even remember the tune despite listening to it yesterday (does it even have one?)

The album finishes with ‘Bike’, which despite what some people say, is NOT a novelty song – come on, Syd Barrett was taking several tabs of LSD every day, I’m pretty sure that’s just what was in his head, including the minute-long sound collage at the end. The strange children’s-toy noises that make up this really sum up the mood of the whole album – fun and childlike on the surface, but with a lot of dark, spooky undertones.

Overall, I really consider this the first Floyd masterpiece, and on some days even the finest. On the later 70s albums, yes, the standard was ridiculously high, but everything was meticulously crafted – planned to create exactly the effect they wanted, while on here, everything’s so spontaneous. The Floyd were just trying to write regular songs, and they turned out this mind-blowing, and that’s really why giving a grade of 7 is such an obvious decision.