"Flaming" by Pink Floyd

When I think of Pink Floyd’s “Flaming,” I often remember butterflies from my childhood and the sweet smell of corn from my old age (Sorry, a bit of a Beefheart reference for all of my lesbos out there). This song is like the first computer. What does it belong to? What Syd era Floyd often did best was create a sort of music that was out of place, sure, various archival footage makes very clear that the Floyd belonged to a very specific time and place from a social perspective, and especially in a live setting, but the actual music is still even years ahead of the present.

There is something so undeniably potent about Syd Barrett’s imagination, and it is all reigning. This is a sort of music or just a sort of sound in general and including the lyrical content that is pure imagination. I am talking about the real Willy Wonka here, baby. You know? ...The one that sells ear candy exclusively. Just listen to this cut some time and pump it up on your bitchy little headphones, as I will be holy fucked if your brain doesn’t successfully transform into an atheistic cigar box directly from God’ private stash. Don’t fuck with this song, because it will thoroughly fuck with you forever. It is inviting and frightening, and what a lovely musical contrast that is. Syd era Floyd often conjured many feelings simultaneously, they were just that devilishly clever and undeniable. Always with the whimsy, and yet, there is always an element of tension and a possibility of danger even, perhaps.

The percussive element is such a light touch on the whole, as the track is mostly a soundscape for Syd’s little adventure and all of the folky acoustic work and keyboard noodling contained within. So, enjoy the future now (And yes, the video leaves a little to be desired but the song is a juicy steak all up in your cummy undies forever).