Inside Pink Floyd’s epic Pompeii gig as spectacular upgraded version of iconic film hits cinemas in days
BA-DUM. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. What is it about Pink Floyd and heartbeats?
An amplified heartbeat bookends their defining album, The Dark Side Of The Moon — a profound, at times overwhelming, sonic exploration of mortality.
And another ushers in the most captivating filmed document of the prog rock pioneers in action, the newly restored Pink Floyd At Pompeii: MCMLXXII.
In early October, 1971, David Gilmour, Nick Mason, Roger Waters and Richard Wright set up shop in the haunting surrounds of a Roman amphitheatre in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius.
“Maybe we thought we were all going on an Italian holiday,” says Mason today. “Like Cliff Richard but in Italy.”
Though summer had passed, he reports that it was still “hot and dusty” on the shores of the Gulf Of Naples that year.
Witnessed by only a small crew and a few children messing about in the ruins, Floyd delivered a masterful set of pre-Dark Side material, beginning and ending with one of their most complex soundscapes, Echoes.
Other tracks such as Careful With That Axe, Eugene, A Saucerful Of Secrets and One Of These Days were later interspersed with studio footage from Abbey Road, shot the following year.
In similar vein to The Beatles’ Get Back documentary, this gives the film a welcome added dimension of unguarded, fly-on-the-wall glimpses of Floyd as they set about making their next album.
You know, THE one I already mentioned, which came housed in a jet-black sleeve with a triangular prism on the outside and, naturally, a spectrum in the form of a heartbeat on the inside.
Mason remembers the sessions as “an easy period for the band”.
“Things were going well, and we were full of ideas,” he says. “It was before things began to unravel.”
The reason I’ve been afforded the chance to catch up with Mason, the musician I consider to be Floyd’s beating heart, is because a spectacular 21st Century upgrade of the Pompeii film hits UK cinemas this week and an accompanying live album arrives on May 2.
“Talk about the passage of time,” sighs the amiable 81-year-old.
“We had no idea back then that anyone would be looking at this material 50 years hence. This is the only record of how we played during that period, what we did and what we looked like.”
But he adds with a chuckle: “Clearly no one was in charge of the wardrobe — or the wardrobe was still on its way from Dover.”
In Mason’s case, he performed with inventive intensity while sporting a mop of dark shoulder-length curls, a bandana and a blue T-shirt emblazoned with a rainbow-coloured butterfly.
Across various scenes, you’ll also notice what he calls “my vast array of moustaches”.
“In ’71, we didn’t have smart cameras or smartphones so you could more or less capture everything you did,” he says.
But he is thrilled with the restored Pompeii sequences. “I’m amazed at the sound in particular,” he continues.
“That’s the surprise of the whole thing. It’s so old but it has so much going for it.
“And I have to say that it’s a tribute to Abbey Road (known in those days as EMI Studios) because so much of their technology was carried out to Italy.
Speaking for the band, Mason affirms: “We are really pleased we did it and slightly taken aback.
“We were very engaged, but it was not something we brought to the table, which was unusual for us.
“Most of the time, we were deciding what to do next by ourselves. So, we look at it in a bemused way.”
As for the actual footage, Mason says: “The extraordinary quality is partly down to modern technology but also to (director of restoration) Lana Topham.
“I think she’s been working on that footage for most of her life!”
Mason explains that the original project was “not driven by us” but by film director Adrian Maben.
“When I look at it now, I’m a bit ashamed at our casualness. We seemed more interested in teasing Adrian than doing any work.”
The story goes that Maben had been trying to persuade Floyd to co-operate in a film showcasing their otherworldly sound but, as Mason admits, “We initially said no”.
“Adrian’s vision had involved a bit more art and a bit less of us messing around,” continues the drummer.
‘Done in one take’
Then, during a holiday to Naples, Maben visited the Pompeii amphitheatre and, as he strolled around the eerie ruins looking for his missing passport, he sensed that he’d found the ideal setting for his ambitious plans.
“He probably persuaded our manager Steve O’Rourke that it was a good idea and then found the money to fund it,” says Mason.
“We had no way of anticipating how it would turn out, but it became a happy union between a slightly rough venue and not having the problems of a live audience.
“It meant we could stop and rerun if we wanted to but, in reality, virtually all of it was done in one take.”
The “rough venue” was originally designed to host brutal gladiatorial contests in front of 20,000 baying spectators, providing the, er, heartbeat of a beautiful but doomed city.
In capacity terms, it was the open-air equivalent of London’s 02 Arena — but with added gore.
As you may have guessed, the theatre was buried in ash when Vesuvius erupted in AD79 — but it literally rose like a phoenix by the time excavation was completed in 1816.
If Pink Floyd were the first rock band to play the ruins, both David Gilmour, as part of a solo tour, and Mason with his band Saucerful Of Secrets, have returned there in recent years.
Looking at that initial performance in 1971, I’ve been left with striking impressions of each band member.
Guitarist Gilmour stripped to the waist, his long, straight, fairish hair blowing across his face, playing his black Fender Strat like the personification of a rock god.
Bassist Roger Waters, later the band’s chief songwriter but here taking a more egalitarian approach, silhouetted against the setting sun and banging a mighty gong.
Keyboard player Rick Wright, the least extrovert of the four, adding ethereal vocals to Echoes and providing the gorgeous organ part for the Celestial Voices finale to A Saucerful Of Secrets with Gilmour’s cry leading the wordless vocals.
Drummer Mason occupying a central position and driving each song to greater heights with just the right amount of tempo, subtlety and power, the person who knits the whole shebang together.
If a lot of bands keep the rhythm section in the shadows and push the show-offs — the singer and lead guitarist — to the front of the stage, there’s a remarkable equality on display at Pompeii.
Mason says: “I wouldn’t be here now if I hadn’t gone to a gig at Regent Street Poly, where I was studying at the time, and Cream came on. I modelled myself on Ginger Baker.
We liked being a band that played together rather than one with a frontman and a drummer sitting on a table at the back.
Nick Mason
“We liked being a band that played together rather than one with a frontman and a drummer sitting on a table at the back.
“I remember Gary Wallis [Pink Floyd percussionist 1987-1994] saying to me, ‘A band is bass and drums and then some novelty acts’.”
Speaking of novelty acts, the Pompeii movie includes a track called Mademoiselle Nobs.
While in Paris, Floyd suggested they would like to film a performance of a short blues song featuring a howling dog with Gilmour on harmonica, in the style of Seamus from their then recent album Meddle.
Adrian Maben happened to know Madonna Bouglione, daughter of circus director Joseph Bouglione, who was known for strolling around the French capital with his dog Nobs.
Of the recording, Mason says: “It’s very strange. Original dog Seamus obviously had to bring in a deputy to do it.
“Fifty years later, I thought I might have to ring Noel Fitzpatrick, the Supervet, to find out if dogs don’t like howling.
“It did worry me slightly that we were torturing these poor animals — but I think they enjoyed it.”
So, whose idea was it to bring in the canine helpers? I venture. “I’m not sure,” confesses Mason. “I had a conversation with Roger a few weeks ago and I’m happy to say his memory is even worse than mine.”
Finally, we turn our attention to 1972 studio footage when Abbey Road was Floyd’s musical playground as they created their eighth album, The Dark Side Of The Moon.
You witness a band of seasoned campaigners high on confidence.
“We seemed to think we knew it all,” acknowledges Mason. “But it wasn’t entirely justified.
‘Strong following’
“It’s something quite prevalent in bands — you move on from starting something to gaining confidence, either through record sales or bigger crowds.”
Mason has this assessment of the post-Meddle, pre-Dark Side period: “We had conquered Europe, particularly France where we had a very strong following.
“But we were still lagging behind in the States. Quite a lot of Americans thought Dark Side was our first album because that’s when they hooked on to us.
“Before that, we could be described as an underground band playing big venues, but not stadiums.”
Dark Side also represents the transition from Pink Floyd as a democratic unit to one dominated by Waters’ songwriting.
There’s some great shots of the band experimenting with early synthesisers such as the EMS VCS3, which helped them make electronic instrumental On The Run.
The band talk avidly about how these amazing contraptions “can’t think for themselves”, all the more pertinent because of the current dismay at AI “scraping” the work of musicians.
We didn’t have access to the finer instruments of the period, but it was easier for us to use the simpler ones properly
Nick Mason
And, as Mason points out, On The Run wasn’t as ahead of its time as you may think.
“The BBC Radiophonic Workshop, who did the Doctor Who theme, had been all over the VCS3 for quite a while before we ever got our hands on one.
“We didn’t have access to the finer instruments of the period, but it was easier for us to use the simpler ones properly, to get more out of them.”
And just like the Fab Four in Get Back, it’s not all about the music for Pink Floyd. There’s some hilarious banter as they eat their rather basic lunches at Abbey Road.
“We spent a lot of our lives in that canteen,” recalls Mason. “It was probably run by people whose previous experience had been at the local primary school, but it worked perfectly well. We were very happy with the apple crumble!”
And were there any arguments?
“We were pretty good all the way through the recording,” he replies.
“We clearly started sparking a bit when it came to the mix [of Dark Side] and we eventually got Chris Thomas to help us.
“He gave us a brilliant independent view and did it for relatively little money.”
Looking back on that iconic album 52 years on from its release, Mason says: I’m absolutely pleased with what we did.
“It would be totally churlish to say I’m unhappy with any of it!”
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
PINK FLOYD
At Pompeii MCMLXXII