“‘Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun,’ is perhaps the most interesting song in relation to what we were doing at the time,” Nick Mason would later suggest, “since it had been constructed to make the most of what we had learnt.”5 This outstanding track marks an important transition in the group’s career as the Floyd evolved toward new horizons and a musical form with a cleaner, more defined shape. It would not be until 1971 and “Echoes” that the Floyd would fully master its means of artistic expression.
Author Michael Moorcock was more than the inspiration for Roger Waters in his choice of title for “Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun.” Moorcock collaborated with the group Hawkwind on several of their albums (such as Space Ritual in 1973), and also with Blue Öyster Cult (notably on the song “The Great Sun Jester,” inspired by Moorcock’s novel The Fireclown, on the 1979 album Mirrors). Finally, he is present in the guise of the character Jerry Cornelius in The Airtight Garage by the French comic strip artist and writer Moebius.
For Pink Floyd Addicts
The novelist Douglas Adams was inspired by “Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun” to write his Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy series). Here he describes a group named Disaster Area, the “loudest […] rock band in the history of […] history itself.” Was he thinking of Pink Floyd?
During his two concerts at Wembley Arena on June 26 and 27, 2002, Roger Waters played “Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun” with Nick Mason—for the first time in more than twenty years!
Corporal Clegg
Roger Waters / 4:12
Musicians
David Gilmour: vocals, electric rhythm and lead guitar, kazoo, backing vocals, sound effects (?)
Rick Wright: organ, backing vocals, kazoo (?), sound effects (?)
Roger Waters: bass, backing vocals, kazoo (?), sound effects (?)
Nick Mason: vocals, drums, kazoo (?) sound effects (?)
Stanley Myers Orchestra: horns
Recorded
Abbey Road Studios, London: January 31, February 1, 7–8, 12, 15, March 25, April 24, 30, 1968 (Studio Three, Studio Two, Room 53)
Technical Team
Producer: Norman Smith
Sound Engineers: Ken Scott, Martin Benge
Assistant Sound Engineers: John Smith, Michael Sheady, Jeff Jarratt, John Barrett, Peter Mew
Genesis
“Corporal Clegg” is the first song in which Roger Waters evokes the Second World War. It is in a tone of derision that the musician chooses to look back at this apocalyptic period, marked for him by the death of his father, whom he would never know. The corporal of the title has a wooden leg he brought back from the war, a medal he found in a zoo, and a wife who is no doubt very proud of his bravery in combat, but who drowns her sorrows in gin, one little drop after another. Corporal Clegg received his medal in a dream/From Her Majesty the queen/His boots were very clean, mocks Waters in the final verse.
Behind the sardonic humor is an all-out attack on the authorities and the army, who send the country’s youth into battle but display a revolting lack of gratitude once the guns fall silent. “Corporal Clegg is about my father and his sacrifice in World War II,” explains the songwriter in a 2009 interview. It’s somewhat sarcastic—the idea of the wooden leg being something you won in the war, like a trophy.”37 Hence the spuriously jolly atmosphere that to some extent, with its crowd noises and revelers’ voices blending with the improbable kazoos, recalls Bob Dylan’s “Rainy Day Women #12 & 35” on Blonde on Blonde.
In terms of its lyrics, Nick Mason would see “Corporal Clegg” as “a humorous forerunner of ‘The Gunner’s Dream,’”<c=PANTONE Process Black C>5 another Roger Waters song (on the 1983 album The Final Cut).
Production
In 1968, Pete Bown was off work for a time for health reasons, and was replaced by Ken Scott so that the album in progress could be finished. Scott had already worked on the single “Apples and Oranges”/“Paint Box” at the end of 1967, and has a clear recollection of doing “</c>a track with the new Floyd line-up that had the guitarist David Gilmour. That song was ‘Corporal Clegg.’”<c=PANTONE Process Black C>27 Scott would spend most of the rest of the year in the control room of Studio Two, working on the final stages of the Beatles’ White Album.
The first session given over to this piece took place on January 31, with Syd Barrett no longer present. The backing track was recorded in six takes. The song opens with a very catchy rock riff played by David Gilmour on his Fender Telecaster, accompanied by Roger Waters on his Rickenbacker 4001. They are supported by Nick Mason, who pounds away at his drum kit, paying particular attention to his crash cymbal. Gilmour also plays a second guitar with a very distorted sound (courtesy of his Fuzz Face), and the overall sonority is reminiscent of Jimi Hendrix. When asked whether this resemblance was deliberate, Gilmour would reply:
“No, not really. I didn’t know what the hell I was trying to play at the time to be quite honest. I’d really no idea. What I was used to playing, the style I had, didn’t fit Pink Floyd at the time, and I didn’t really know quite what to do. Gradually over the years my style changed to fit Pink Floyd, and Pink Floyd changed to fit my style.”<c=PANTONE Process Black C>28 He also shared lead vocals with Nick Mason, a first for the drummer, who would not sing again until “One of These Days” (on Meddle, 1971). While Gilmour takes the first phrase of each verse, Mason sings the last two, delivering the lines in an ironic, even cartoon style. The effect is comic and counterbalances the guitarist’s pop-rock timbre. Note the remarkable work that went into the vocal parts on “Corporal Clegg”: Beatles-style harmonies in the verses, subtle counterpoint in the bridge (0:45), and three-part harmonies in the refrains. Of course, with Norman Smith producing, this should come as no surprise. Instrumentally too, there is a great deal going on: wah-wah in the refrains from Gilmour as he continues with his Hendrix trip, Hammond M-102 organ from Rick Wright, and kazoo in both instrumental sections. The latter is probably played by Gilmour, no doubt assisted by his bandmates. In a program on RTB (the Belgian state broadcaster for the French-speaking part of that country) in February 1968, Gilmour can be seen playing not a kazoo but a slide whistle! For these instrumental interludes, the Stanley Myers Orchestra would record a six-strong horn section in EMI’s Studio Two on February 12, destined in particular for the off-the-wall coda. In actual fact, one has to listen very carefully to hear them. Once again the spirit of the Fab Four is felt in the closing section of the track, with voices and various noises and sound effects merging with the ensemble. At precisely 3:03, Norman Smith can be heard caricaturally exclaiming Git your hair cut! in an example of typical British humor… The piece ends with various noises that are difficult to identify but that may well be airplanes and wailing sirens, an idea that will be taken up in 1979 in the intro to the album The Wall.
“I mean, ‘Corporal Clegg’ is a good piece of work,”<c=PANTONE Process Black C>30 Roger Waters would claim in 2004. Not so far removed from the universe of Syd Barrett—at least musically—this song is nevertheless a long way from the Pink Floyd bassist’s later style of composition, and even from his other contributions to this album (“Let There Be More Light” and “Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun”).
Stanley Myers, in charge of the horns for the coda of “Corporal Clegg,” was none other than the talented composer of the sublime “Cavatina,” the theme music of The Deer Hunter, Michael Cimino’s 1978 movie.
The naming of the song’s hero was not a matter of chance. The American engineer (of German origin) who invented the kazoo, played in this song by David Gilmour, was called… Thaddeus von Clegg!
For Pink Floyd Addicts
Nick Mason also sings lead vocals on a third Floyd song, more specifically one written by Syd Barrett: “Scream Thy Last Scream.” This was the first track worked on by the group for A Saucerful of Secrets, on August 7, 1967, but was not used.
A Saucerful Of Secrets
Roger W
aters, Rick Wright, Nick Mason, David Gilmour / 11:57
Musicians
David Gilmour: electric guitar, percussion (?), various sound effects, backing vocals
Roger Waters: bass, percussion, various sound effects, backing vocals
Rick Wright: organ, piano, Mellotron, percussion (?), various sound effects, backing vocals
Nick Mason: drums, percussion, various sound effects
Recorded
Abbey Road Studios, London: April 3, 5, 9–10, 23–24, May 1, 1968 (Studio Three, Room 53)
Technical Team
Producer: Norman Smith
Sound Engineers: Peter Bown (?), Ken Scott (?), Martin Benge
Assistant Sound Engineers: Peter Mew, Richard Langham, John Kurlander, John Smith, John Barrett
Genesis
This long piece from which Pink Floyd’s second album takes its name is a collective work born in the studio in spring 1968. “It was the first thing we’d done without Syd that we thought was any good,”39 Roger Waters would later say. This instrumental track comprising four sections (in reality three movements, of which the last is divided into two sequences) was originally called “Nick’s Boogie.” After this it would be presented in concert under the successive titles “The Massed Gadgets of Auximines,” “The Massed Gadgets of Hercules,” and, ultimately, “A Saucerful of Secrets.”
What could be the meaning of this title? Were the members of Pink Floyd issuing an SOS (based on the first letter of each word in the title)? It seems more likely that they wanted the listener to climb aboard their flying saucer for a long journey into space…
In an interview with Mojo magazine in 1994, David Gilmour recalls the development of this key work: “I remember Nick and Roger drawing out ‘A Saucerful of Secrets’ as an architectural diagram, in dynamic form rather than any sort of musical form, with peaks and troughs. That’s what it was about. It wasn’t music for beauty’s sake, or for emotion’s sake. It never had a story line.”39 No story line, then, but four distinct parts brought together under the title “A Saucerful of Secrets.” It was not until 1969 and the United States pressing of Ummagumma, their fourth album, that each of these sections would be given a name: “Something Else,” “Syncopated Pandemonium,” “Storm Signal,” and “Celestial Voices.”
“Something Else” sets the scene, as it were: a harrowing, oppressive atmosphere, a kind of journey into terra incognita, where one imagines danger lurking around every corner. “Syncopated Pandemonium” is based on drums and dissonant piano chords plus various sound effects that evoke chaos. “Storm Signal” is also built on sound effects, and on keyboards too, giving way to the final section, “Celestial Voices,” dominated by the organ and then the Mellotron—a coda whose ultimate aim seems to be to spread a sense of serenity. Or else to evoke total war (in space?).
More or less classical in structure (akin to a concerto or symphony), “A Saucerful of Secrets” was Pink Floyd’s first experimental epic, with Roger Waters, Nick Mason, Rick Wright, and David Gilmour showing less of an artistic debt to the blues, but to avant-garde composers such as John Cage and Stockhausen. This piece contains the seeds of some of their future masterpieces. “‘A Saucerful of Secrets’ was a very important track,” reveals David Gilmour, “it gave us our direction forward. If you take A Saucerful of Secrets, Atom Heart Mother and Echoes—all lead logically to Dark Side of the Moon and what comes after it.”40 It is also the track that gave rise to the first bone of contention between the four members of Pink Floyd and Norman Smith. “I did the title track [in reality ‘Celestial Voices’],” explains Rick Wright, “and I remember Norman saying, You just can’t do this, it’s too long. You have to write three-minute songs. We were pretty cocky by now and told him, If you don’t wanna produce it, just go away. A good attitude I think.”39
The group would perform “A Saucerful of Secrets” onstage regularly up to 1972 and occasionally over the following year. There are two official live versions—one on the album Ummagumma (12:49) and the other in the documentary movie Pink Floyd: Live at Pompeii (9:41)—as well as various bootlegs, that on The Band Who Ate Asteroids for Breakfast exceeding twenty-five minutes in length.
Production
Thus on April 3, 1968, Pink Floyd threw themselves into the longest and most ambitious musical work of their budding career. With this track of almost twelve minutes’ duration, they by far exceeded the rock music standards of the day, which is something poor Norman Smith found difficult to comprehend. Nick Mason: “There is certainly a story that during the recording of Saucer he [Norman] was heard to remark that the boys would have to settle down and do some proper work once they had got this piece out of their system.”5 It is true that in A Saucerful of Secrets Pink Floyd definitely had something to unsettle Norman with, their producer having no great love of this type of thing (experimental to say the least) despite his evident and widely recognized open-mindedness. The working title “Nick’s Boogie” had already been used for a previous, unrelated track recorded at Sound Techniques studios in January 1967. However, the Floyd decided to split it into three movements that they would get down on tape independently, and which would eventually be combined into a single piece. The sessions were organized as follows:
• April 3: first take retained as best for the first and second movements
• April 5: rerecording of the first movement and first take of the third movement
• April 9: rerecording of the third movement with overdubs
• April 10: new parts recorded, provisionally referred to as the “Wild Guitar Track” and “Wild Guitar Track with Piano,” plus various overdubs of vocals and sound effects, and remixing of the first and second movements
• April 23: mixing of the third movement
• April 24: remixing of the second movement
• May 1: remixing of the first movement
In the end, it took seven sessions to complete this complex piece, which was relatively quick. It was Roger Waters who accidentally sparked the idea for “A Saucerful of Secrets.” Nick Mason relates: “One starting point was a sound that Roger had discovered by placing a mike close to the edge of a cymbal and capturing all the tones that are normally lost when it is struck hard. This gave us a first section to work from, and with four individuals contributing freely, the piece developed quickly.”5 The musicians based their work on diagrams drawn by Waters and Mason that gave free rein to their ideas while retaining the structure in their heads. It sounds as if Gilmour, whose very first contribution as co-composer this was, may have been slightly perplexed: “My role, I suppose, was to try and make it a bit more musical, and to help create a balance between formlessness and structure, disharmony and harmony.”29
The first movement (“Something Else”) is actually based on Waters’s cymbal, which makes its ominous, menacing presence felt in the very first bar. The effect is highly impressive, and listeners may wonder whether, in order to acquire such depth, the instrument was recorded at a slower speed. Someone can be heard manipulating the strings of an acoustic piano, following the example of John Cage and his prepared pianos. Rick Wright is on the Farfisa organ, and the plaintive sonorities he draws from his instrument are lugubrious and disturbing to say the least. Pink Floyd gives the impression of having been inspired by Ligeti’s Requiem, which is not exactly an anodyne work. Various different percussion instruments can be heard that are difficult to identify, but presumably include chimes. Gilmour seems to strum his Fender periodically in order to produce sounds worthy of Syd Barrett, with heavy use of the Binson Echorec (0:37). The squeaking of rubber ducks contributes to the unreal atmosphere of this first movement—all the more so as they too are swamped in Echorec. Finally, horns, probably issuing from Wright’s Mellotron MK2, emerge at the back of the mix from 2:30.
The second movement (“Syncopated Pandemonium,” beginning at 3:57) is rhythmic. Nick Mason has revealed that this section was nicknamed “Rats in the Piano.” It is constructed using various effects that
the group had tried out during its stage performances, a (doubled) drum loop providing the momentum. Backward cymbals can be heard, as can a manhandled piano worthy of Iannis Xenakis (another architect-turned-musician), an organ pad serving as a harmonic (if that is the right word) foundation, and also Gilmour’s guitar, which he employs in a rather unorthodox manner. The guitarist would explain in 1993 that his guitar was lying on the floor the whole time: “And I unscrewed one of the legs from a mic stand […] I just whizzed one of those up and down the neck—not very subtly.”29 The end result is highly psychedelic, similar to the sound an EBow might have produced. (The EBow is a resonator that is passed over the strings of an electric guitar in order to generate an electronic sound similar to that produced by a guitar played with a bow.) This sequence was recorded on April 10 under the title “Wild Guitar Track with Piano.”
Pink Floyd All the Songs Page 14
