How 'Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun' Uses Eastern Rhythms and Cryptic Lyrics to Feel Like a Cosmic Ritual

The most interesting thing about this song is that it wasn’t built around a melody or chord progression—it was built around a feel. Roger Waters wrote the lyrics first, almost like a poem, and the band created a drone-like, hypnotic groove that barely moves. The whole thing sounds like a ceremony happening in deep space.

The Eastern influence comes mostly from Nick Mason’s drumming. He plays tom-toms with mallets instead of sticks, hitting a slow, repeating pattern that mimics the pulse of a tabla or a heartbeat. There’s no ride cymbal, no hi-hat—just a low, rumbling beat that never changes tempo. Rick Wright adds a droning organ and a Farfisa organ run through a Binson echorec, giving the song a shimmering, almost Indian raga feel. The rhythm section never speeds up, never breaks, which makes the track feel suspended in time.

The lyrics are cryptic on purpose. “Set the controls for the heart of the sun” sounds like a sci-fi command, but it’s really about seeking destruction or transcendence. Other lines—“Witness the man who raves at the wall,” “The dust that laid on the ground”—don’t tell a story. They work like incantations, repeated in a monotone by Waters. The whole song becomes a ritual: the drums are the pulse, the words are the chant, and the slide guitar (played by Gilmour through a wah pedal) is