Pink Floyd
Meddle

THE REVIEW

Pink Floyd - Meddle 1971

This review goes down like a biju, light and titillating like a nice glass of niveo plumbeo barium contrast liquid for stomach x-rays. I can already hear the vestals of the temple clamoring, the geese of Juno in epileptic fits... How dare you?

Last night I couldn't sleep, water in my ear, diving sea sun-painkiller-night-nothing-hot, I took the opium of the poor, paracetamol-codine-and while waiting for it to kick in- you have that disjointed excitement that lifts you a bit: I take my black dano, strum-strum, a ceramic bottleneck slide that gives you a warm but lunar sound, compared to metal or glass, even if it doesn't make sense with the tuning and you're not in open chords... No, no Santo and Johnny, I think. I had promised myself not to write more de-reviews on the magicians, but the slide brought me back to surfing, skateboarding... swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnn and then

I fall asleep. Flash at 5.15am.

I recall the mumps, the mumps, just that year of meddle or thereabouts. Jumping on the bed from the pain like a voodoo man, I never moshed so well as that evening; my psychotropic evolutions end with a polished lucid moon almost diamond-like that the sun did wound sang the divine poet rising from a cloud in the left hemisphere of my brain, setting in the right and I fly inside almost in union with her. Guys, opium plays strange tricks, I understand E.A. Poe more and more. Or the young Caligula appearing on the imperial terrace and raising his arms to the sky towards the distant and serene Moon imagining feeling it enraptured with him.

In the morning with Fabri for the umpteenth time like fools, we pick up the main topic of this 33 back to vinyl, this fact of Rita Pavone deleted from the text of Saint-Tropez after that for years official translations circulated with a text in front and the poet's endorsement. Then mid-80s judicial quarrels, it is rumored an intervention by Raita's lawyer, Teddy Reno at her side, Rita preening herself on TV with Red Ronnie about being the protagonist of a Pink song, and then disappearing from the text forever. What happens? No answer.

I wrote this de-review because two great friends of mine, one is a detractor, the other a fanatic of the band. And every now and then they delve into the topic. Today while playing at Andrea Saolini's house, I told him to look for this mono analog synth sound like early Pink on your program and he: Pink Floyd ruined the lives of entire generations, it's a Masonic concoction, they should stop bothering, forget about these people with mental worms. With Fabrizio, who is a water fan instead, we got bogged down on the famous philological quarrel of the song Saint Tropez:Rita Pavon or later by phon hence the review .

But first there's "One Of These Days" opening "Meddle": One of these days I'm going to cut you into little pieces," that's the only phrase, -Nick Mason, with the voice distorted by a "moscowdiscow" mic, at the peak of the piece. Floydian philology tells that the one interpreted by Nick was the furious threat of monna Waters against BBC radio channel DJ Jimmy Young, guilty of being a pathetic conductor without balls and brains who only broadcast boring and substandard songs. (foreign or anonymous reviewer)

I add that the good Portuguese bassman, to avoid paying rights to anyone - as he will later try with Ezrin, even attempting to snatch the band name from everyone - and it went as badly as his lousy solo career - he copied it verbatim codina from the Doctor Who theme, 1963, by Ron Grainer an innovative piece of electronic music; only later, Waters admitted drawing directly from an English sci-fi TV series. The bass line, and not only that, even the space keyboards. Verbatim, same meddley, at my home it's plagiarism, big plagiarism. A Pillow Of Winds, a bucolic elegy in open chords, recalls the atmospheres of More, then Fearless doesn't break out of the usual 4/4 rock moan, and the final soccer anthem "You will never walk alone" of the Liverpool Kop ultras doesn't impress; then the bass poet's capitalist dreams, tycoon in cancun remodeled like today's plastic cocoon - we move on to one of gilmoil's first always-smiling pearls, a blues with a dog singer, Seamus, so silly that perhaps even Barrett would never have served, real rubbish without ideas, a blatant mockery.

But after all, meddle means to meddle, introduce, mumps, big-face, and also medley considering the gerrymandering, and the bassmaster's long ear.

Echoes is finally a worthy song, degenerated into a suite, and feels light years away from Barrett's genius for the old spatial beep, transfigured by Wright's mastery with echo binson. A beautiful song, mainstream psychopop slides but a whole side is really too much, otherwise, it is the quintessential Pink song. Not too depressive, mysterious, used as a soundtrack for surf documentaries in the USA, austere when they abuse seagull effects for 5 solid minutes. resolving sound effects when ideas are lacking. clear no. Here's the thing, Pink works just when you put earplugs in for mumps and decontextualize them into an adjective... like listen to this piece it doesn't sound a bit old pink. E.g. as a kid, there was this theme from a sci-fi TV show, doctor who, which gave me chills, I later discovered it was a rip-off of one of these days, that is to say, then the reverse but it worked, Pink works when they copy and aren't themselves, or when you play and imitate that sound which isn't, but it works, or you find it in records of other artists. THEN YES, UNDERSTAND? taken however as cult exegesis, cover band, industrial apparatus, it all becomes shapeless, false, heavy.

LIKE FELLINI IT'S BEAUTIFUL WHEN you see pieces of films, polysemic references from other directors, but taken as a whole, it's like contemplating a prehistoric animal, beautiful but you wouldn't keep the skeleton in the house, it would take up all the space. To live forever: just become an adjective. Let's say Dantean, Shakespearean, Felliniesque, Rivolian or Kafkaesque; Pinkfloydesque.

I close with the quarrel: making a date for... Rita Pavon-e-o later by phone, or hitler mustache, or rita hair by phone, hitler by phone, laugh mustache, laugh ball, laugh big-ear, hitler bigface, revolution by phone, laugh buffoon... and whoever has more, let him add more.

Tomorrow I'm going to the ENT doctor for the wash...