Pink Floyd - Obscured by Clouds
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On June 2, 1972, "Pink Floyd" released their seventh studio album "Obscured by Clouds".

There is a tendency to treat "Obscured by Clouds" as little more than the bridge between "Meddle" and "The Dark Side of the Moon". History has not been particularly kind to it. Created as the soundtrack to Barbet Schroeder's film "La Vallée", the album arrived after the band's earlier soundtrack work on "More", "The Committee", and portions of "Zabriskie Point". Schroeder, impressed by their contribution to "More", specifically approached "Pink Floyd" to provide the music for his new film about two travelers searching for spiritual enlightenment in New Guinea.
What makes the project particularly fascinating is its timing. While recording at Château d'Hérouville in France, the band were already developing ideas that would evolve into "The Dark Side of the Moon". The sessions for both projects effectively overlapped, with Floyd stepping away from their emerging masterpiece to quickly compose and record music for Schroeder's film before returning to the album that would change their career.
Yet among longtime "Floyd" devotees, "Obscured by Clouds" has earned a very different reputation. It is widely regarded as one of the band's most underrated and slept-on releases, a remarkably consistent collection of songs that rarely receives the recognition afforded to the albums surrounding it. More than a soundtrack, it serves as a brilliant and surprisingly upbeat bridge between the exploratory psychedelia of "Meddle" and the legendary commercial and artistic peak that followed.
The opening title track, "Obscured by Clouds", immediately announces a different approach. Rather than easing the listener in with extended experimentation, the band delivers a focused instrumental built around synthesizers, layered keyboards, and a muscular groove. David Gilmour's guitar work cuts through Richard Wright's atmospheric textures, creating a sense of movement that carries directly into "When You're In". The transition between the two pieces is seamless, and together they form one of the strongest instrumental openings in the band's discography.
The mood shifts dramatically with "Burning Bridges", one of Richard Wright's finest contributions to the "Floyd" catalog. Built around gentle acoustic guitars and lush keyboard arrangements, the song possesses a warmth that would become increasingly rare in later years. Wright's melodic sensibilities bring a sense of optimism that perfectly complements the album's unusually bright character.
That warmth continues with "The Gold It's in the...", a straightforward rocker by "Floyd" standards. Driven by an energetic rhythm section from Nick Mason and Roger Waters, the song demonstrates how effectively the band could operate when they abandoned grand ambitions and simply focused on momentum and groove.
The first genuine masterpiece arrives with "Wot's... Uh the Deal?". Gilmour delivers one of the most understated vocal performances of his career, floating through a melody that feels simultaneously comforting and melancholic. Beneath its acoustic surface lies a recurring "Floyd" obsession: the passage of time and the quiet disappointment of adulthood. Its elegant arrangement and emotional honesty make it one of the finest hidden treasures in the entire "Floyd" catalog.
The album's title track may open the record, but "Mudmen" arguably provides its emotional centerpiece. Expanding upon motifs introduced earlier, the instrumental allows Gilmour's expressive guitar phrasing and Wright's keyboards to do the storytelling. There is a cinematic quality to the composition that reminds listeners of the album's soundtrack origins, yet it functions perfectly as a standalone piece.
Side two begins with "Childhood's End", one of the most overlooked songs the band ever recorded. Written solely by Gilmour, it combines a driving rhythm with lyrics contemplating mortality and the relentless passage of time. The soaring guitar work points directly toward the style he would perfect on later classics.
In "Free Four" Waters disguises reflections on death and inevitability beneath one of the catchiest arrangements "Floyd" had recorded to that point. The contrast between the upbeat melody and the song's dark lyrical content would become one of his defining songwriting traits throughout the 1970s.
The gentle "Stay" returns the spotlight to Wright, whose understated vocal performance and elegant keyboard work provide another reminder of how essential he was to the band's chemistry. The song's dreamlike atmosphere feels suspended in time, creating one of the record's most intimate moments.
The album closes with "Absolutely Curtains", perhaps the clearest reminder of its soundtrack origins. The instrumental passages gradually build toward a haunting vocal chant recorded from the Mapuga tribe of Papua New Guinea. In lesser hands the piece might feel disconnected from the rest of the album, but here it functions as a fittingly mysterious conclusion to a record built on atmosphere and transition.
What ultimately makes "Obscured by Clouds" so compelling is not any single song, but its consistency. Unlike the conceptual monuments that followed, this is a remarkably relaxed album. It lacks the sweeping ambition of "The Dark Side of the Moon", the emotional devastation of "Wish You Were Here", or the political fury of "Animals". Instead, it succeeds through craftsmanship, melody, and mood. It may never enjoy the cultural stature of later releases, but among dedicated fans its reputation has only grown over the years. It is highly regarded as one of the band's most slept-on and consistently rewarding records, it captures "Pink Floyd" at the precise moment they were evolving from psychedelic explorers into one of rock music's defining artistic forces.
For Listening: Spotify, Apple Music




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