Forty years of Piper, baby!

You better believe I am talking some serious Pink Floyd, woman! Jesus is a trick on Hippies, my little goofy baby doll, and don’t you ever done forget it! How does one celebrate forty bloody years of an epic landmark in Psychedelic Pop or more accurately, one of the most ripened fruits to ever emerge out of British Psychedelic music? Well, one doesn’t and primarily because Mr. Barrett is quite obviously long gone, and as we all know, all that remains is his crudely built homemade furniture and perhaps a handful of paintings that he decided not to toss during his life.

I mention Syd Barrett in relation to Piper at The Gates of Dawn pretty much exclusively here, because really, looking back on it all (and I was there), it would appear that Piper is the first Syd solo record, the first of three, and that the real Pink Floyd would not really start to take shape until the next record. People know and associate Pink Floyd with a sound and an approach not directly related to Syd, but rather, haunted by him. It is appropriate to essentially observe the musicians, and of whom I won't bother to name, simply as chaps under Syd’s direction.

Everything about this album screams “New!” And I entirely agree, as from the neurotic electric guitar bits to the highly imaginative and literate lyrics about fantastical creatures such as Gnomes and other such Turkish Delights, that you realize that the British branch of the Psychedelic money scheme was truly born, and I find Syd’s approach to be even more substantial than that of The Beatles, but this is just one little trick’s opinion. For the time, Syd seemed remarkably apolitical and vague, and for a few short years he let us all in on his own little private world; which was a decidedly nice place to visit but no normal thinking person would want to dwell in that realm for too lengthy of a time frame.

Syd was very bright, but some strange mystery caused him to be arguably selfish with his genius and turn inward, and this is then when Pink Floyd came to life upon Syd’s psychological departure from Pop trappings and the like, and shortly thereafter making a physical exit as well. Any person with even a slight interest in creative-based music naturally loves Piper. Personally, I can’t get enough of the cut “Flaming,” totally genre-less and new in its way, and even to this day.

Appropriately, a deluxe 40th edition of Piper is available for purchase with some added treats that perhaps demand your dollars after all:

THIS AIN'T NO CAT STEVENS!

I will now leave you then with the following lengthy religious mantra: It is by will alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the juice of sapho that thoughts acquire speed, the lips acquire stains, the stains become a warning. It is by will alone I set my mind in motion.