Pink Floyd 09/26/1970

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Compilation Name: Edit this compilation's name

Date: 09/26/70
Year: 1970
Venue: Electric Factory
City: Philadelphia
State: PA

Set I

Astronomy Domine
Cymbaline
A Saucerful Of Secrets
Interstellar Overdrive
Fat Old Sun
Green Is The Colour >
Careful With That Axe, Eugene
Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun

Set II

Set III

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User (active/rating)	Media / #	Show	Sound	Details	User Source
David LeMond (5/5)	CDR / 2		A-	View	aud
Tulum (5/0)	FLAC / 8			View	HRV CDR 021 Rev.A
Notes:	The sound quality is excellent. Considering the advanced age of this recording, you may want to call it superb. But that only applies to the first 97% of the show. The last three minutes of Set the Controls appears to be patched from another (inferior) source.
Denis Charette (5/4.5)	CDR / 2		A	View	Exc Aud
Notes:	"Electric Factory" Exc Aud
John (5/5)	CDR/FLAC / 2			View
Notes:	Reel to Reel > dat > hhb 850 > cdr > nero > wav > flac
michael kass (5/5)	cdr / 2			View
Gold Soundz (5/5)	CDR / 2			View	SBD> R2R> DAT> CDR
Jack Warner (5/5)	FLAC / 0			View	MAR>D>FLAC
Notes:	"Reeling In Floyd DAT Sources, Vol 2"
Roy Martin\'s Music Collection (5/5)	FLAC / 0			View	Electric Factory Rev A (EE044)
Notes:	liberated Harvested label bootleg cass(low)>eac>flac
randy walton (5/5)	cdr / 2		a	View	aud
Notes:	103 minutes
gary k. (5/5)	cdr / 2	A	A	View
sean hite (5/0)	/ 0			View
Notes:	HRV-CDR-021
Rick Martin (5/5)	CDR / 2		A	View	Electric Factory rev A HRV-CDR-021
Notes:	Complete
Slick2007 (5/5)	FLAC / 2		A	View
MrSteve (5/5)	cd / 2		A-	View
Notes:	mic>?>cd
Gary (5/4.3)	CDR / 2			View
Dwayne (5/5)	FLAC / 0			View	Audience Recording
HEDA (5/0)	/ 2			View
PeaceTrader (5/0)	CDR / 2			View
Damian (5/5)	CD / 2			View
Notes:	Pink Floyd electric factory Philadelphia, PA 9/26/70 Reel to Reel > dat > hhb 850 > cdr > nero > wav > flac I recieved this in a trade. The quality is excellent for an audience recording from this era. disc one astronomy domine cymbaline a saucerful of secrets disc two interstellar overdrive fat old sun green is the colour careful with that axe eugene set the controls
Damian (5/5)	CD / 2			View
Notes:	April 03, 2003 It's here! You asked for it, you got it. Some months ago, a poll was conducted to determine which Harvested release was most in need of the "rev A" treatment. The winner was, or is that loser, Electric Factory. I've done my deglitching work on Ron's master that he sent me. Which basically means no "remastering" was done by Ron. Which is to be expected as he has emphatically restated many times that he is "retired". My "rev A" of the original is now available for all to download: Electric Factory rev A HRV-CDR-021 Phildelphia, PA September 16, 1970 disc 1: Astronomy Domine Cymbaline A Saucerful of Secrets disc 2: Interstellar Overdrive Fat Old Sun Green is the Colour Careful With that Axe, Eugene Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun This is two discs in audio format, but it fits nicely onto a single CD in shorten format. Thus, weeding obligations are 3 weedlings for shorteners and 2 weedlings for audio. In my opinion, the sound quality is excellent. And if you consider the advanced age of this recording, you may want to call it superb. But that only applies to the first 97% of the show. The last three minutes of Set the Controls appears to be patched from another (inferior) source. In addition to my normal click and pop elimination, I also removed a chirping sound from those last 3 minutes. This noise appears to have been an artefact from some dehissing done long ago on this patch. I would appreciate it if those people who "voted" for Electric Factory would comment on why they voted for EF and if this rev A release meets or falls short of their expectations. Now you all can correct me if I'm wrong; but, my memory seems to recall that Jackie had a "date" take her to this show. If that's true, could someone repost her review here. Best Regards, Ed. Electric Factory rev A HRV-CDR-021 Phildelphia, PA September 26, 1970 disc 1: Astronomy Domine Cymbaline A Saucerful of Secrets disc 2: Interstellar Overdrive Fat Old Sun Green is the Colour Careful With that Axe, Eugene Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun This is two discs in audio format, but it fits nicely onto a single CD in shorten format. Thus, weeding obligations are 3 weedlings for shorteners and 2 weedlings for audio. In my opinion, the sound quality is excellent. And if you consider the advanced age of this recording, you may want to call it superb. But that only applies to the first 97% of the show. The last three minutes of Set the Controls appears to be patched from another (inferior) source. In addition to my normal click and pop elimination, I also removed a chirping sound from those last 3 minutes. This noise appears to have been an artefact from some dehissing done long ago on this patch. I would appreciate it if those people who "voted" for Electric Factory would comment on why they voted for EF and if this rev A release meets or falls short of their expectations. Now you all can correct me if I'm wrong; but, my memory seems to recall that Jackie had a "date" take her to this show. If that's true, could someone repost her review here. Best Regards, Ed. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- One night in 1970, a platonic male friend invited me to a show at the Electric Factory. He promised me the most interesting, compelling, life-altering evening of my life, so how could I refuse? The Electric Factory was an old warehouse they had renovated to a nightclub. There were some seventy-odd tables scattered around the great room with a small platform stage at one end. When we arrived, the place was almost full and quite noisy. The heavy smoke from tobacco and cannabis created a gloomy atmosphere, and made me feel totally cool. The glow from the table candles created halos of light like you'd imagine seeing from an active crystal ball or Gandalf's staff. My friend and I sat down at a small table for two in the center of the room. I felt an odd, unfamiliar sense of anticipation as show time drew near. My friend had told me very little about the band we were about to see, only that it was something unlike I'd ever heard before. A waitress came by and offered drinks. I was too young to order alcohol, but my friend ordered a glass of ale. He had dropped a hit of acid before we arrived at the club, so a beer buzz wasn't his intention. I drank from the glass that sat in front of him. Mmmm. I love Guinness. The band appeared on stage quietly and without ceremony. It appeared to the crowd around me that the real show wouldn't start until the music did. My friend pulled a pen out of his pocket and opened up the cocktail napkin the ale was served on. "This is important," was all he wrote, with a colon following the phrase. And then the band struck its first notes and the room went quiet. "Astronomy Domine," my friend wrote on the napkin below his first phrase. I didn't get the "domine" part, but the astral tone to the music sent my mind's eye gazing toward a clear night sky, complete with a full moon. I'd seen a shooting star only once in my life, and the "oohoooh's" of the song echoed the sense of what it was like to see one. There was polite applause following this song, and I snickered at the thought of myself sitting before this band just as my parents would sit and applaud a symphony. The next song gripped me from the first notes. My friend whispered the lyrics to me as Cymbaline played. I finally understood the eerie tone of the song as I realized I was listening to someone's nightmare. But it was more than that. It was the serene tone to the verses and the pounding insistence of the chorus. The pleading tone of "please wake me" shot a bullet through my psyche as I recalled the last nightmare I myself experienced. My friend watched me with amusement as I sat perplexed during the "footsteps" sequence. Perhaps he thought I didn't understand, but I did. What I was really concentrating on was the sound effects. With the exception of the footsteps themselves, I was trying to figure out if the other sound effects were coming from that guitar player, and I am pretty certain that they were. My friend and I had quite the discussion about this part on the way home from the show. I must say the song overcame me. During the applause, I hollered out "play it again," much to the amusement of my friend. One of the band members introduced the next song as "A Saucer Full of Secrets." As the first notes played, I looked around and saw tea cups on saucers. I don't know how many secrets you could hold in a saucer, but the band played on mercilessly as though one could hold all the secrets of the world, including the secret behind Mona Lisa's smile. Quite frankly, I didn't like it. This was my cue for a trip to the bathroom. My friend was disappointed, but his look seemed to tell me, "I may have lost this battle, but I'll win the war." Sorry, chum, but this song is too free-wheeling and lacks order. I like order. Order another pint, please, so I can enjoy the drummer. Where was* he* in the first two songs? And then, miraculously, as though the band had read my mind, A Saucer Full of Secrets became a cohesive, orderly piece. After the intermission, the band took up again slowly and quietly. Hey! I knew this song. I used to hear it over my girlfriend's house coming from the hi-fi system in her older brother's room while we played PONG on her TV. But I didn't remember it being this long, or this good! My friend scribbled another note on the napkin: Interstellar Overdrive. Man, that bass player really had his groove on. After my friend had written his note, he was pretty lost to me, absorbing himself in the jam, or was he just peaking? Ahhh, Fat Old Sun. Another song I knew. Boy do I love this song. I found myself singing along quietly under my breath and letting the music carry me away to a faraway time when I was young, and bronze was the requisite skin color for summer vacation. We worshipped the Fat Old Sun during tag, statues, Mother-may-I and pick-up games of softball at the school grounds. It was the Fat Old Sun we loved even when Tommy Pickles got mad because he'd stolen a Playboy from his father's sock drawer and the girls wanted to use it for home plate. But there I was, years later, yelling to my girlfriend's brother to turn this song up as she and I laid on chaise lounges under the Fat Old Sun trying to get that bronze look we never had to work on while we played pick-up softball games. Funny that. At one point the music got so quiet I wondered in my musings if the song hadn't stopped and I was just hearing it again in my mind. The melody moved on and on and soon became melancholy. Like the way your day under the Fat Old Sun ended when the streetlights came on or you heard the familiar whistle of your father calling you home to dinner. I thought that someday this song would mean to me the loss of youth, but that was many years away and the Guinness was tasting too good to ponder on it any further. A band member announces the next two songs, and Green is the Colour begins. I suddenly feel romantic. My friend's arm brushes mine as he writes "quickness of the eye deceives the mind." on the napkin. I realize this is not a romantic overture, but an exclamation of a critical part of this song. Still, I have had a crush on him for years, and the melody --or the beer buzz or the contact high-- gives me a bit of courage and I place my hand on his forearm. My friend smiles at me and takes my hand in his. Sweet innocent heaven, like my first "steady" in third grade, Garth. He and I were too shy and nervous to do anything else besides hold hands as we moved in tandem on the swing set at the school yard. The music changes quickly without a segue and it becomes ominous and gives me a sense of dread. I forget what the band member called this song. My friend, definitely peaking at this point, is sitting forward as though in anticipation of something. The music makes me uneasy, so I squeeze his hand more tightly. He turns to me with this look that says "you're gonna love this." I'm not so sure. Then, as the tension of the music rises and rises, my friend leans over and whispers in my ear, at exactly the same moment the singer whispers in his microphone "Careful with that axe, Eugene." And then there's the scream, ripped from the bowels of the vocalist, and striking the primordial center of my brain like an electrical charge. I feel as though I'm standing behind a jet engine and I look over at my friend, who is smiling and nodding with eyes closed, acknowledging some connection with the angst of the scream. Take a drink of Guinness and try to understand this. Ahh, yes, the music now seems to move toward healing and "glad I got that off my chest." My friend is smiling at me; he knows from the look on my face that I have been bowled over by this performance. The final song begins and the methodical beat calls to me, as though I'm standing before a Druid bonfire, having completed some coming-of-age ritual. The music kisses me in welcome to a secret understanding not everyone will know. I smile back at my friend as someone behind me leans forward and says in my ear: "set the controls for the heart of the sun." This floods me with images of pick-up softball and swinging with Garth and Tommy's father's Playboy and how this music will affect me when I'm older and the feel of my friend's hand together with mine. This night has taken me backward and forward in time and yet its the here and now that amazes me. My friend writes one final note on the napkin: "do you get it now?" and I remember my initial thoughts about A Saucerful of Secrets. Astronomy Domine, Interstellar Overdrive, and Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun. I guess we're not talking about a teacup saucer, but a FLYING saucer. I take the pen from my friend's hand and write on the napkin: "I'll see you on the dark side of the moon." ======================================================================== My point to choosing this technique to review Electric Factory is to exemplify the beauty of this recording. The SQ is excellent and gives me that feel of a concert from a coffeehouse versus a larger venue. I've also tried to show how the music attacks your mind with feeling and conception. This is definitely pensive head-phone music! Oh, and for those interested, I imagined the narrator as 16- or 17-years old; I was only eight when this show was recorded. Thanks to Buddy Duke for sharing the music, and thanks, as always, to RonToon and the Harvested Team for one amazing production after another. I'm raving and drooling about what's to come. Jacki Date: Fri, 21 Jul 2000 22:52:21 -0400 From: "Jacki Dimitroff" Subject: An Electric Evening To: "Echoes" This is my review of HRV-021: Electric Factory. It's not a typical review, because its a work of fiction -- an allegory. But this is the only way I can convey my thoughts about this show. I have not researched anything for accuracy, so if you find discrepancies, tuff titty! ======================================================================== One night in 1970, a platonic male friend invited me to a show at the Electric Factory. He promised me the most interesting, compelling, life-altering evening of my life, so how could I refuse? The Electric Factory was an old warehouse they had renovated to a nightclub. There were some seventy-odd tables scattered around the great room with a small platform stage at one end. When we arrived, the place was almost full and quite noisy. The heavy smoke from tobacco and cannabis created a gloomy atmosphere, and made me feel totally cool. The glow from the table candles created halos of light like you'd imagine seeing from an active crystal ball or Gandalf's staff. My friend and I sat down at a small table for two in the center of the room. I felt an odd, unfamiliar sense of anticipation as show time drew near. My friend had told me very little about the band we were about to see, only that it was something unlike I'd ever heard before. A waitress came by and offered drinks. I was too young to order alcohol, but my friend ordered a glass of ale. He had dropped a hit of acid before we arrived at the club, so a beer buzz wasn't his intention. I drank from the glass that sat in front of him. Mmmm. I love Guinness. The band appeared on stage quietly and without ceremony. It appeared to the crowd around me that the real show wouldn't start until the music did. My friend pulled a pen out of his pocket and opened up the cocktail napkin the ale was served on. "This is important," was all he wrote, with a colon following the phrase. And then the band struck its first notes and the room went quiet. "Astronomy Domine," my friend wrote on the napkin below his first phrase. I didn't get the "domine" part, but the astral tone to the music sent my mind's eye gazing toward a clear night sky, complete with a full moon. I'd seen a shooting star only once in my life, and the "oohoooh's" of the song echoed the sense of what it was like to see one. There was polite applause following this song, and I snickered at the thought of myself sitting before this band just as my parents would sit and applaud a symphony. The next song gripped me from the first notes. My friend whispered the lyrics to me as Cymbaline played. I finally understood the eerie tone of the song as I realized I was listening to someone's nightmare. But it was more than that. It was the serene tone to the verses and the pounding insistence of the chorus. The pleading tone of "please wake me" shot a bullet through my psyche as I recalled the last nightmare I myself experienced. My friend watched me with amusement as I sat perplexed during the "footsteps" sequence. Perhaps he thought I didn't understand, but I did. What I was really concentrating on was the sound effects. With the exception of the footsteps themselves, I was trying to figure out if the other sound effects were coming from that guitar player, and I am pretty certain that they were. My friend and I had quite the discussion about this part on the way home from the show. I must say the song overcame me. During the applause, I hollered out "play it again," much to the amusement of my friend. One of the band members introduced the next song as "A Saucer Full of Secrets." As the first notes played, I looked around and saw tea cups on saucers. I don't know how many secrets you could hold in a saucer, but the band played on mercilessly as though one could hold all the secrets of the world, including the secret behind Mona Lisa's smile. Quite frankly, I didn't like it. This was my cue for a trip to the bathroom. My friend was disappointed, but his look seemed to tell me, "I may have lost this battle, but I'll win the war." Sorry, chum, but this song is too free-wheeling and lacks order. I like order. Order another pint, please, so I can enjoy the drummer. Where was* he* in the first two songs? And then, miraculously, as though the band had read my mind, A Saucer Full of Secrets became a cohesive, orderly piece. After the intermission, the band took up again slowly and quietly. Hey! I knew this song. I used to hear it over my girlfriend's house coming from the hi-fi system in her older brother's room while we played PONG on her TV. But I didn't remember it being this long, or this good! My friend scribbled another note on the napkin: Interstellar Overdrive. Man, that bass player really had his groove on. After my friend had written his note, he was pretty lost to me, absorbing himself in the jam, or was he just peaking? Ahhh, Fat Old Sun. Another song I knew. Boy do I love this song. I found myself singing along quietly under my breath and letting the music carry me away to a faraway time when I was young, and bronze was the requisite skin color for summer vacation. We worshipped the Fat Old Sun during tag, statues, Mother-may-I and pick-up games of softball at the school grounds. It was the Fat Old Sun we loved even when Tommy Pickles got mad because he'd stolen a Playboy from his father's sock drawer and the girls wanted to use it for home plate. But there I was, years later, yelling to my girlfriend's brother to turn this song up as she and I laid on chaise lounges under the Fat Old Sun trying to get that bronze look we never had to work on while we played pick-up softball games. Funny that. At one point the music got so quiet I wondered in my musings if the song hadn't stopped and I was just hearing it again in my mind. The melody moved on and on and soon became melancholy. Like the way your day under the Fat Old Sun ended when the streetlights came on or you heard the familiar whistle of your father calling you home to dinner. I thought that someday this song would mean to me the loss of youth, but that was many years away and the Guinness was tasting too good to ponder on it any further. A band member announces the next two songs, and Green is the Colour begins. I suddenly feel romantic. My friend's arm brushes mine as he writes "quickness of the eye deceives the mind." on the napkin. I realize this is not a romantic overture, but an exclamation of a critical part of this song. Still, I have had a crush on him for years, and the melody --or the beer buzz or the contact high-- gives me a bit of courage and I place my hand on his forearm. My friend smiles at me and takes my hand in his. Sweet innocent heaven, like my first "steady" in third grade, Garth. He and I were too shy and nervous to do anything else besides hold hands as we moved in tandem on the swing set at the school yard. The music changes quickly without a segue and it becomes ominous and gives me a sense of dread. I forget what the band member called this song. My friend, definitely peaking at this point, is sitting forward as though in anticipation of something. The music makes me uneasy, so I squeeze his hand more tightly. He turns to me with this look that says "you're gonna love this." I'm not so sure. Then, as the tension of the music rises and rises, my friend leans over and whispers in my ear, at exactly the same moment the singer whispers in his microphone "Careful with that axe, Eugene." And then there's the scream, ripped from the bowels of the vocalist, and striking the primordial center of my brain like an electrical charge. I feel as though I'm standing behind a jet engine and I look over at my friend, who is smiling and nodding with eyes closed, acknowledging some connection with the angst of the scream. Take a drink of Guinness and try to understand this. Ahh, yes, the music now seems to move toward healing and "glad I got that off my chest." My friend is smiling at me; he knows from the look on my face that I have been bowled over by this performance. The final song begins and the methodical beat calls to me, as though I'm standing before a Druid bonfire, having completed some coming-of-age ritual. The music kisses me in welcome to a secret understanding not everyone will know. I smile back at my friend as someone behind me leans forward and says in my ear: "set the controls for the heart of the sun." This floods me with images of pick-up softball and swinging with Garth and Tommy's father's Playboy and how this music will affect me when I'm older and the feel of my friend's hand together with mine. This night has taken me backward and forward in time and yet its the here and now that amazes me. My friend writes one final note on the napkin: "do you get it now?" and I remember my initial thoughts about A Saucerful of Secrets. Astronomy Domine, Interstellar Overdrive, and Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun. I guess we're not talking about a teacup saucer, but a FLYING saucer. I take the pen from my friend's hand and write on the napkin: "I'll see you on the dark side of the moon." ======================================================================== My point to choosing this technique to review Electric Factory is to exemplify the beauty of this recording. The SQ is excellent and gives me that feel of a concert from a coffeehouse versus a larger venue. I've also tried to show how the music attacks your mind with feeling and conception. This is definitely pensive head-phone music! Oh, and for those interested, I imagined the narrator as 16- or 17-years old; I was only eight when this show was recorded. Thanks to Buddy Duke for sharing the music, and thanks, as always, to RonToon and the Harvested Team for one amazing production after another. I'm raving and drooling about what's to come. Jacki
Ryan Boone (5/5)	shn / 1			View
Notes:	Harvested cd021
Joplin R. (5/3)	CD-R / 2			View
Michael Mersand (5/0)	/ 0			View	http://www.shnflac.net/details.php?id=15861d2931c5538ac93218438832c635c023a3ea
Notes:	HRV CDR 021 Rev.A
Yoshi (5/0)	MP3 / 1			View
Jeff Mitchell (5/0)	/ 0			View
catherine (5/5)	shn 1 / 0			View
Notes:	Jeez Louise, I guess the quality of the show is in inverse proportion to the yacking on and on length of the text file!!; it is a nice shn set of the show, but whatever!!! Listen and tell me what you think!!!
Jon Pavuk (5/4.3)	CD-R / 2	A	A+	View
Jon Pavuk (5/4.3)	shn / 2	A	A+	View	Electric Factory RevA>Harvested Records>HRV CDR 021Unknown audio cassette source > HD > CEP > shn>
Notes:	DVD w/ Pink Floyd 9/26/70, 6/26/71, Pompeii, 4/28/72, 10/21/72, 7/2/77, 8/6/80
Jon Pavuk (5/4.3)	FLAC / 1	A	A+	View	Reel to Reel > dat > hhb 850 > cdr > nero > wav > flac
gravedigger7 (5/0)	cd-r / 2		A-	View

User (active/rating)

Media / #

Show

Sound

Details

DB Source

User Source

David LeMond (5/5)

CDR / 2

A-


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