NICK MASON’S SAUCERFUL OF SECRETS
Live At The Roundhouse
IT CAPTURES THE SPIRIT OF EARLY FLOYD IN ITS MYRIAD INCARNATIONS.
A saucerful of psychedelia is good for what ails you.
For anyone who regards The Dark Side Of The Moon as the apotheosis of prog rock and the moment that Pink Floyd first ascended Mount Olympus, it might feel like a cardinal sin of omission for drummer Nick Mason to go out with a band devoted to playing exclusively pre-Dark Side material. But this double live album from Mason’s Saucerful of Secrets – a group featuring a motley assortment of session players, journeymen and a member of Spandau Ballet – is glorious, capturing the spirit of early Floyd in all its myriad incarnations from their cosmic space rock voyages to the moments of purest whimsy.
As anyone who attended this gig at London’s Roundhouse – a venue Floyd themselves played back when Syd Barrett stood at the mic – can vouch, the whole endeavour is made all the more exciting because Mason doesn’t just go for the obvious cuts. Sure, Set The Controls For The Heart Of Sun and Atom Heart Mother are present and correct, but the setlist includes such obscura as Point Me At The Sky, a single that failed to bother the charts in 1968, and even the bizarre Vegetable Man, which Floyd played live just once and was only available on bootlegs prior to 2016.
When the line-up was first announced, there was a great raising of eyebrows on prog forums about the participation of Spandau Ballet’s Gary Kemp on guitar and vocals, but Kemp makes himself right at home with this music. He’s got the wry humour required for See Emily Play and Bike, and can wail and howl in the raucous garage rock of The Nile Song. Mason, now in his mid-70s, has lost none of his drive or power, from the groove of Lucifer Sam to the heavy tread of Obscured By Clouds and When You’re In, which features great keys work from Dom Beken. One Of These Days remains an absolute banger, powered by Floyd veteran Guy Pratt on bass and Mason’s pounding drums together providing the bedrock for the buzzsaw slide guitar of Lee Harris.
Much of this material is more than 50 years old and while it’s fair to say that a track like Remember The Day is firmly rooted in the psychedelia of the late 60s, this never feels like a rock version of Antiques Roadshow, dusting off relics from the attic in the hope of discovering that they retain some value. There’s just too much energy in the performances to ever doubt the worth of this music and the band’s obvious enthusiasm is hard to resist. Dark Side… and The Wall are undoubtedly masterpieces, but there’s a gleeful release in the freewheeling abandon of Floyd’s early output and when Mason and co let their freak flags fly, the result is joyous.