Pink Floyd
A Saucerful of Secrets

A Saucerful Of Secrets.

Hidden secrets are revealed to us. The darkness of the chest sparkles with light,
Let There Be More Light, indeed. And what lies within?

Part One

1968. The end of the Beatles is ever closer (thankfully, or what a damn shame?), outside the scene is bursting with burgeoning extreme psychedelia, Frank Zappa is already a myth, your grandma too, Dylan is now a living legend, and the Cuban Revolution has been over for some time (the guerrilla).

»Hasta la victoria siempre«
»Hasta la revolucion«
»We will push forward...«

Yes, until the next bend.

The recordings of the album became complicated due to Syd's mental problems.
Well, damn, it's useless, let's leave him, Waters must have thought.
Hardheaded fool; but we love you anyway.

This psychedelia is extreme even today, oh yes.
Impossible to deem it obsolete. Listen to the title-track.
In religious silence, in the darkness of a small, tender, lovingly seasoned room with all your fears. And your subconscious is willing to bet (or on the Later by Phone's ass) that you will die in ecstasy.

Orgasm of an album. Another glass of gin?

Running, running, stumbling, stumbling, remembering, remembering.
But what the hell...you find yourself holding the reins of the sun.
Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun, yes. There it is, that is, yes.

Noises, guitar riffs, cod sperm on a slice of Nutella-flavored jam.
That's what I'd reply to someone who asks me - hey, 'a piece of crap, how does 'this album sound?

Part Two

I really believe the Germans keep this album jealously in their kraut-pants. Amen.

I have always loved you, I have never loved you...