Pink Floyd's Echoes was the song most people remember when they think of their 1971 album Meddle; this was before the Dark Side world domination era of the band when they were in transition from their original success as thee definitive band of London's Psychedelic scene in the late 60s. Echoes was the key track that pointed towards the Dark Side Prog Rock era, the era that would define them and house their best work, Echoes would be immortalised by the band's storming rendition of it in the centre of an old ruined coliseum in Pompeii, Italy (in a spellbinding concert film called...you guessed it.. Live in Pompeii.)
Famously starting with what sounds like the 'ping' of a Sonar signal, it was actually created by an electric piano note being plonked and sent through a Hammond Leslie Amp and an echo unit for that cold, spacey pulse. It's a desolate sound with an icy effect that transcended any gimmickry, and would influence later Floyd experiments like the knotty overlapping cash register rattle of Money and random Helicopter rotor blade interludes of Another Brick in the Wall Part 1.
A couple of liquid guitars soon join the Sonar, as both instruments begin to ripple, undulate and modulate with the tide of ambient sound textures, slowly filling in the wide open, sub-aquatic space. The guitar work begins to take a turn towards the flamenco, then big drums crash in for a Phil Collins' In the Air Tonight style of drum rolls for an explosive transition. The thin but winsome Gilmour-Wright harmonies then descend upon us in floaty lines that are gently hung over the hypnotic brew of ambient organ. Their flat, droning voices recite the words like a mantra with seemingly possessed quality to it; this style of close harmony singin, popularised by Simon and Garfunkel. perfectly blends Gilmour's distinctive cutting warble with Wright's primitive whimper.
It's a successful technique for conveying the type of wide eyed Hippy poetry of the lyrics, the vocals first describe the setting starting with the line 'Overhead the albatross Hangs ..' their vocals hover over everything much like the Albatross, rising high into the clouds just like their dainty falsettos.
The first verse is largely pastoral imagery ala Yes' Topographical Oceans, but the second verse brings the whole rhythm backing to a standstill, as Gilmourwright commentate 'Strangers passing in the street, By chance, two separate glances meet, And I am you and what I see is me'. It should be romantic but it feels strangely much closer to themes of detachment and social isolation similar to Wish You Were Here with it's fiery handshake cover or Dark Side of the Moon's Us and Them. In the last verse, the fire that had been smothered and buried deep inside them has now broken free, no longer as 'green as submarine', and now no one calls them 'to move on' and 'no one forces down' their eyes; an original description of how young people must come of age and see things for themselves; no longer having their eyes cupped by their elders, resisting attempts to contain or restrain by the establishment.
A guitar passage then acts as a chorus, like the tolling of a bell as Gilmour's trebly hundred-tonne guitar intones and divebombs down into a spiral, before another flamenco influenced jazz solo with many guitars playing at different pitches, tape speeds and reverb settings howl. The fantastic drums and organ combo of Mason and Wright anchor the next section with a funky backbeat where percussive organ chords are broken up by hyper aggressive fills from Gilmour; wringing every inch of sonic bite and fury in his vibrato. No wonder it's called Echoes, from the natural resonance of Mason's drums to the multi-layers of guitars, we get a variety of wet and dry textures; the soaring notes cry out before we segue into the creepy Musique Concrete part.
The long ghostly 'wind' effect erases all vestiges of the band's playing till we're transported to a dark exterior night scene; the wall of sound easily could be anything from dogs growling to crows crowing or just a very heavy gale, but it is actually Waters' bass with a slide ring and more tape effects to create a white noise. But this part of the suite get's even chillier with the entrance of a bizarre high pitched whine that, though emitted from Gilmour's guitar, has far more in common with some feral creature. The background sound collage begins to subtly oscillate as if the night is enveloping us or we're Dorothy, plummeting helplessly down the eye of the tornado, while a ring modulated organ adds more Sonar like qualities. Then some terrifying screams from that guitar jerk you to a very alert and panic state, the guitar shrieks out in these bursts of blood curdling mania, it reminds me of a cockerel or peacock in it's whooping manner, but the discordant screech is probably closer to that of a Theremin.
The iconic Sonar 'ping' and Wright's endless organ washes slowly creep in, followed by the chug of Gilmour's hand muted guitar and Mason's precise cymbal work, acrobatically filling the sonic space back up. A Celtic sounding arpeggio by Gilmour adds a hopeful 'dawn breaking over the horizon' wonder to the section as the band builds to yet another verse. The verses are so drearily sung in a tinny, droll manner that it comes across almost comatose and the heavy English accents add a zombified cult like nature as was common with Pink Floyd's disembodied voice.
The song pretty much bookends itself with one last flourish; a reverse echo sucking everything into its vortex, the ebb and flow of those ghoulish walls of sound towards the end, whether humans or something else, creates such an unsettling effect, it stands timelessly with anything one could produce today. Is it the sound of a crowd sighing, or is it the sound of the sirens of the French metro system ..whatever it is it caps off a magnificent composition and a successful experiment of what Prog could be beyond pretentious classical indulgences and would influence Van Der Graaf Generator, Robert Fripp and even that song Piltdown Man by Mike Oldfield.
