With a distorted vocal that sounds like the singer is out on the periphery rather than front and centre, Interview lines up rugged guitar (Ayers) with spacey psychedelic organ (Ratledge) over an odd minimalist funky percussion rhythm to create some of the trippiest moments on the album, crossfading into Internotional Anthem, which does another odd bit of lining things up. There’s some of Don't Let it Get You Down (For Rachel) matched with some lyrics from Interview, delivered by the Dark Side of the Moon backing vocal ensemble, which sounds like a bit of a hodgepodge but works as a lead in to the eight minute drone of Decadence, Ayers’ portrait of Nico, ex-Velvet Underground chanteuse and creator of The Marble IndexDesertshore and : Watch her out there on display / Dancing in her sleepy way / While all her visions start to play / On the icicles of our decay / And all along the desert shore / She wanders further evermore / The only thing that's left to try / She says to live I have to die.
It’s undeniably the album’s set piece major artistic statement, and quite an impressive achievement, an atmospheric exercise quite unlike the rest of the album, and several light years from Ayers’ regular territory though he’ll be back in the same neighbourhood on Confessions of Dr. Dream. There’s an almost Kraut rock vibe (hardly surprising given the subject matter) with Steve Hillage's spacy guitar over a bed of hypnotic guitars, droning synthesisers and metronomic beats.
By contrast, his tribute to Pink Floyd founder Syd Barrett, Oh! Wot A Dream, comes across as almost flippant, though that’s as much to do with the duck quack and clinking glass that runs through the rhythm track. Well, he’s referring to aquatic sojourns through Cambridge water meadows, more than likely with imbibing involved, so that’s probably appropriate, but still...
After those decidedly odd percussion effects Hymn‘s percussion click track is rather conventional as Ayers’ multi-tracked vocals and Wyatt’s restrained harmonies hover over a melismatic melody in a gentle ballad that’s as charming to the same degree that its predecessor was odd.
Finally there’s Beware Of The Dog, a minute and a half of swelling orchestration by David Bedford that finishes the album proper with a rousing finale and the observation that She said 'you're not happy, you're just stoned', which was, of course, probably true.