Pink Floyd, "Ummagumma" (Harvest, 1969)

For two decades, the only legitimately released live recordings by Pink Floyd constituted half of the two-LP (later two-CD) set "Ummagumma." That material, culled from performances in England in the summer of '69, captures the band at a certain spot in its development, but bears very little relation to the juggernaut that would dominate the charts throughout the latter part of the '70s and beyond.

In some ways, that's a good thing.

For hardcore Pink Floyd fans, the period between roughly 1968 and 1972 is of great interest. The band is in transition, from learning how to soldier on without original frontman Syd Barrett to developing the material that would stay on the charts for 14 years with "The Dark Side of the Moon."

By the time Pink Floyd starting playing large arenas, then stadiums, its concerts had become thoroughly planned events, with timings down to the split second. Of course, when you're launching inflatable pigs or building walls during shows, it helps to have everything coordinated.

The late '60s-early '70s version was unfettered by such matters, making that era on of heavy experimentation and improvisation, endearing it to fans who enjoy that type of musical approach. Actually, that's how Pink Floyd built its reputation in the first place; back when it started in earnest around '66, no one else was playing 20-minute, feedback-driven freakouts with titles like "Interstellar Overdrive."

The first disc of "Ummagumma" is a good representation of what Pink Floyd was giving audiences by the end of the decade: lengthy, loosely structured "songs" filled with sonic explorations designed for expanded consciounesses. If you give a listen, it's a good idea to turn out the lights and fire up an incense stick.

Among the four live tracks, "Astronomy Domine" is the closest to a standard song structure, as the remaining members of the band do an extended take of the Barrett composition that opens Pink Floyd's debut album, "The Piper at the Gates of Dawn." The in-concert version repeats the litany of heavenly bodies a second time before taking the sound down a notch for Rick Wright to play practically solo on an atmospheric organ run. The momentum builds up slowly until guitarist David Gilmour (Barrett's replacement) carries the proceedings at full throttle into the final verse and the song's climax. Quite an opening.

"Careful With That Axe, Eugene," which first appeared as a single's B-side the previous year, is as ominous as its title implies. Bassit Roger Waters plays a single note, alternating octaves, and drummer Nick Mason plays a steady beat while Gilmour and Wright make some otherworldly sounds. The song lurches ahead in a restrained manner for a few minutes, before Waters utters the words to the title. Then he screams, summoning vocal power from who knows where, while the band kicks up the volume exponentially in a wave of fury that informs the listener in no uncertain terms what Eugue is doing with that ax. No wonder the track remained a concert favorite through well into the post-"Dark Side" period.

"Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun" follows, with Waters softly reciting his lyrics throughout a lengthy, relatively quiet jam. Besides the extended time, this version stays relatively close to the one that appeared on the band's second album, "A Saucerful of Secrets."

Speaking of which, the "Saucerful" title closes the live disc in grand fashion. A short opening section, driven by another ominous Waters bass line, melts down into a formless exploration of instruments. Then Mason starts flailing away at a furious tribal beat while the others make noises that, until a few years prior, hadn't really been associated with music before. Finally, Wright starts playing some recognizable organ notes, Mason fades away, and the album's highlight is ready to go.

The closing section of "A Saucerful of Secrets," subtitled "Celestial Voices," is presented on the studio album as a piece for choir. In concert, the band transforms it into something they could play themselves: Wright's organ starts the intriguing chord sequence, and the three others join in along the way, picking up the volume as they go. Finally, Gilmour sings the wordless melody along to the power chords, building up to a rousing finale that leaves the crowd in a frenzy (at least, that's what it sound like before the needle lifts from the record).

Oh, yeah. There's a whole second disc to "Ummagumma." The idea was to give each of the four Floyds half a side to do his thing. The results are underwhelming, although the whole idea (not to mention the title) behind Waters' "Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving With a Pict" is rather innovative.

In the opinion of many fans, the band should have dedicated the second disc to more in-concert tracks. A listen to unauthorized recordings of the time reveals a wealth of material that sounds much different from what the band was doing in the studio at the time, and having it commercially available would be a real treat. (Don't hold your breath waiting for Pink Floyd archival recordings, though.)

If you happen to come across it somewhere, the bootleg of the band's show at the Fillmore West in April 1970 gives a much more thorough picture of what a Pink Floyd concert was like before the guys were selling records by the millions. Twenty-minute versions of "Interstellar Overdrive" didn't end with Barrett's departure.

Pink Floyd finally released another live album following its "comeback" tour that seems to have lasted from late 1987 through early '89. But by that time, Waters was long gone, and the other three were routinely joined by what seemed like dozens of other musicians onstage.

And it sounded absolutely nothing like the wonderful sounds the band was making circa 1969.