I can easily say that listening to Soft Machine's music altered my musical sensibility and perceptions. Or, better, that it altered my perceptions - period.
This was probably because I had my first taste of their sound when I was barely thirteen. Actually, the first Soft Machine LP I ever listened to was 'Volume Two'. I must state beforehand that back then, albeit being so young, I was not alien to strange sounds. I didn't listen to the typical Top Ten, teenybopper fluff kids my age were supposed to listen to. Instead, I used to do things like sneaking in the school's courtyard during recess and listen to stuff like Jimi Hendrix's 'Foxy Lady' or Led Zeppelin's 'When The Levee Breaks'('Stairway To Heaven' was too romantic for me)S But you can easily understand that to expose a kid of thirteen to the weird odd-time signatures, the rasping organ solos, the growling fuzz bass parts of the Softs and - above all - the haunting vocals of Robert Wyatt is something likely to have long-term consequences. And, for sure, listening to 'Volume Two' at thirteen left a permanent mark on me.
My introduction to Soft Machine's music came courtesy of one of my schoolmates, who invited me to his house to 'listen to some really weird music'. I remember getting out of his house almost dizzy, and that I spent the whole time of the bus trip back home trying in vain to sort out what kind of music I had listened to. Was it rock? Not at all. Was it jazz? UmhS Was it avant-garde music? I didn't even know what the term actually meant. And how could a 'song' last a whole side of a LP? I was mightily puzzled, and eager to know more about Soft Machine.
Next day, at school, I literally bombarded my schoolmate with questions about the band. I was made aware of the fact that they had come out of the so-called Canterbury scene, had been a quartet in their first incarnation, trimmed down to a trio they had toured USA as opening act for the Jimi Hendrix Experience (albeit with a different bass player) and were now a quartet again, having added a saxophone player. Above all, my friend informed me, they had released their third LP - and he owned it. 'Why didn't you let me listen to it yesterday?', I asked him. 'One Softs' LP the day is enough for kids our age', he answered. That very same afternoon I went to his house again (doing our homework wasn't on top of the list of our priorities, of course), and I found out he was right.
To say that I was transfixed would be a massive understatement. To me, 'Third' was even stranger than 'Volume Two'. My friend told me that it was 'jazzier' than its predecessor; but, even though it actually had a jazzy feel, for me it was quintessentially a record containing utterly weird music that tickled and stimulated my synapses like no other record had so far managed to, with the only possible exception of 'Electric Ladyland' (particularly '1983'). More odd-time signatures. More furious rasping organ solos. More growling fuzz bass parts. And, once again, a song that lasted the whole lenght of a side. 'Moon In June' struck a chord in my soul like no other song had ever done. Robert Wyatt's vocals were haunting, almost mesmerizing, and the tune's chord changes left me in a state of total mental turmoil (they still do). Boy, Hendrix's songs like '1983' were undoubtedly strange, but this one was unbelievably weird - and this without resorting to funny effects or electronic devices. The instruments were reduced to a minimum, just organ and drums in the first part of the song; and, over the whole, Wyatt's hoarse voice singing words I couldn't understand but that fascinated me merely thanks to their sonic quality. 'Out-bloody-rageous' was a major musical odyssey too, for me. The backwards keyboards parts at the beginning of the tune, the beautiful bass intro courtesy of Mr. Hugh Hopper, the main theme, the furious organ solo courtesy of Mr. Mike Ratledge, the evocative, atmospheric saxophone solo courtesy of Mr. Elton Dean in the second part - every single moment of the tune literally blew my mind (and, being a thirteen years old kid growing up in early-70's Italy, listening to music I liked was the only possible way for me to blow my mind). After my friend had entertained me with 'Slightly All The Time', I asked him who played the beautiful flute solo that could be heard in the tune. He informed me that it was was a session musician called Lyn Dobson, and that the band had actually been touring for a certain period of time with a three-piece horn section composed by the above-mentioned Dobson on tenor sax and flute, Mark Charig on trumpet and Nick Evans on trombone. When I asked him if there were live recordings of those concerts, he answered 'No'.
That's why I highly recommend 'Backwards' to all the serious Soft Machine fans everywhere. And that's why Cuneiform Records has undoubtedly done a great job issuing it. Because it contains rare performances of the band as a septet, a real delight for those who, like me, long to own anything recorded by the Softs in their golden age.
But this not all. The incredible, 20 minutes-long demo version of 'Moon In June' contained in the CD, with its slower tempo, is - if possible - even more haunting of the one that ended up on 'Third'.
For all those who - like me - are still reeling from the effects of their first taste of Soft Machine's music, 'Backwards' is a must!

Per tutti coloro che rifiutano di sintonizzarsi sulla lunghezza d'onda della vita "normale".

Stefano Focacci

Stefano Focacci is Ernesto de Pascale's logest time music partner and an accomplished musician by himself.
Ernesto and Stefano experienced Soft Machine's music  together in 1972 and saw the classic "six" line up at Teatro Andromeda, Firenze in Januart 1973.Their first group together,"Implosion"(1974) was heavily influenced by the Canterbury Sound and Soft Machine's experiments

Seventies' Recollection:
Van Der Graaf Generator
Gallagher
Genesis
Groundhogs
Marc Bolan
Led Zeppelin