Published on Jul 14, 2005
Pink Floyd’s second film soundtrack, for Barbet Schroeder’s film
La Vallee, is a surprising set (for these guys) of fairly
straight-up rock and roll. In direct contrast to their recent work,
this album ignores the spacey jams and tripped out weirdness that
has been a prevalent feature of their work, and sticks to much more
traditional styles than we’ve come to expect from The Floyd.
On their first soundtrack album
More, the incidental theme music, mostly instrumental,
dominated the album. In this case only a short time is spent on
those ambient pieces, with more effort taken to create original
songs with an identity outside the context of the film. The three
instrumental numbers are surprisingly fleshed out for what was
essentially background music. In fact, the first two numbers, the
title track and “When You’re In,” are fine (albeit brief)
instrumental pieces that might have been realized as bigger and
better tracks. It’s really a shame that they weren’t because both
of those pieces hint at greater things. Even as short
instrumentals, they add some dark atmosphere to the album.
One of the great pleasures of this disc is how David Gilmour
comes to the forefront on many of the songs, with a lion’s share of
the vocals and some outstanding guitar work. Floyd’s songs were
often dominated by keys, but
Obscured By Clouds becomes in part a showcase for Gilmour’s
inspired playing.
If you listen closely, you’ll hear some significant glimpses
into future Floyd albums, specifically
Dark Side Of The Moon. This is no surprise really. At the
time
Obscured was released they had been performing a conceptual
suite called “Eclipse” in their live shows, which eventually would
be recorded as
Dark Side. Naturally one would expect some creative osmosis
to occur. These guys had a tendency to have many projects going
simultaneously, so some cross-pollination is inevitable. Most
notably these hints occur in the dreamy “Burning Bridges” with its
stream-of-consciousness lyrics and Gilmour’s breathy vocal and
swelling and fading guitars, it foretells bits of both “Us And
Them” and “Breathe” from
Dark Side.
One of the best tracks, Roger Waters’ “Free Four,” is one of the
most unlikely Floyd songs ever. A fairly straightforward folksy
rocker reminiscent of the Kinks, with a simple strummed acoustic
guitar, handclaps and a hook borrowed from “Spirit In The Sky,” the
upbeat tune sounds like a jaunty pop-number, but this deceptive
song about waiting for ones inevitable death carries Water’s usual
streak of dark cynicism: “Life is a short, warm moment / and death
is a long cold rest / You get your chance to try in the twinkling
of an eye / eighty years, with luck, or even less.”
Another unusual (for Floyd) track is the soft ballad “Stay.” At
first blush it’s a tender love song, but the giveaway comes when
Gilmour sings “I rise, looking through my morning eyes / Surprised
to find you by my side / Rack my brain to try to remember your
name.”
This is much, much more than a soundtrack, and in this writers
opinion it is the most underrated (and overlooked) album of their
career. Far away from the psychedelic trips of their first few
albums, and more down-to-earth than their grandiose future works,
this collection features these stellar musicians setting aside
their usual avant-garde tendencies and playing good old rock songs
and ballads, strongly rooted in more conventional song styles. A
departure from their norm without a doubt, and one that should not
be overlooked, but rather embraced.