Pink Floyd - The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn

Admittedly, some Summer of Love documents sound hopelessly dated. Regardless of their quality, there’s always a sense of opening up a time capsule, looking into a period where grandiose statements seem corny (The Moody Blues Days Of Future Passed), political viewpoints seem naively silly (Country Joe & The Fish Electric Music For The Mind & Body) and groundbreaking production seems hopelessly limiting (Jefferson Airplane Surrealistic Pillow).
Pink Floyd’s The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn doesn’t sound like it was born in 1967. It sounds like it was born completely out of time. Jumping from fairytales, space travel, cats, the I Ching, gnomes, and other oddities within the span of the album’s forty two minutes, Piper is the product of Syd Barrett’s limitless imagination and pending mental illness. Norman Smith’s archaic production helps the album achieve something rare for an album of its age: an eerie sense of unease within a completely organic environment. The listener always has the sense that the songs were composed, arranged, and performed by musicians seeking to expand their own horizons without a hint of pretension.


Although it was considered to be highly “produced” during its time, the technical limitations have aged well, giving the organs a creepy vibe, the guitar some added rawness, and the bass…well, you can’t really hear the bass all that much.
No worries: Roger Waters would later run the roost, but in 1967 the rest of the members were following the lead of a certifiable crazy man who seemed intent, or oblivious, that some of his notions might lead to a certain commercial suicide.
The fact that the band were able to achieve some success with Piper in England is particularly mind-blowing and a testament to that country’s openness towards different directions. I suppose that some of the reason for its acceptance is because Piper does feel strangely European at points; while U.S. bands like the Dead and Moby Grape harnessed American elements, Floyd’s beginnings come directly from the past of the old country, mixed with a large dose of lysergic vision.
It would take several years before Floyd gained favor within the American market, but its first album not only sounds unlike anything else in the band’s overall catalog, it may be their finest moment too.