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.

Syd Barrett is out-gunned, what is the outcome? Will they do him like Malcolm?

Word up, me droogies. I am here to review Syd Barrett's second and final solo album, a little jaunt through a fractured psyche simply given the moniker of Barrett. On his solo debut which was released earlier in 1970, Syd was a bit all over the place at times, but there's a tight cohesion on this record that is truly beneficial to the listener. No doubt, having old chum David Gilmour along for the proceedings and helping out to the best of his ability by playing additional pieces of instrumentation really did make the whole affair seem like a Pink Floyd album of sorts, and especially on mesmerizing numbers like the eerie and atmospheric "Dominos." Syd gets to showcase his erratic acoustic guitar playing and fractured lead guitar work in great abundance, but as mentioned, the professional quality and delicious musicianship of the gentlemen backing him helps to anchor Syd's musical insanity. In a lot of respects, even the casual Rock fan could find something to enjoy on this record. On a personal note, I have heard few songs in my life more haunting and sincere than "Love Song," it has such a lovely little melody and a rather sad sack vocal by Syd that it simply cannot be denied.

Syd's lyrics have always been outstanding and universally strange, but they really glue themselves to the listener on this record in particular, I feel. It is as if Syd is essentially saying good-bye and knows very well that he means it. While later attempts to get things cooking in the old Abbey Road studios were labored over as late as 1974, it is unfortunate that nothing did come of these sessions. Some say it was only really during a few years in the late '60's that Syd wrote all of his Psychedelic gems in a fit of creative frenzy, and perhaps all of the material on Barrett essentially represents this time and place from just a few years previously near 100%. Songs like "Rats" no doubt make clear that Syd is a lyrical master on par with the greatest in the history of Pop, but the sense of drama in his vocal delivery is truly unmatched. His strange music was no doubt equally as sincere as his strange mental condition. Some songs almost have a majestic and intellectual quality about them, like the trippy Psychedelic Folk Rock of "Wined And Dined."

Certainly, Syd's material with the Floyd may in some respects be his finest, but to this day, it is obvious that his two solo outings in 1970 are indeed underrated. As to how great his influence, this is something I find to be truly un measurable, there may be entire generations of "weird" Rockers whom are blissfully unaware that Syd's influence on their recorded output is indeed direct. As Syd would say, "It is obvious." Perhaps it is safe to say that Syd's death in the summer of 2006 was a troubling and important event for all those interested in a sort of music in which ideas and imagination reign free, and while Syd was quintessentially English, he was also a very early voice in what can only be referred to as musical freedom and on an epic scale. There are any number of different formats for purchasing the curious little Barrett album, but my suggestion is actually part of the larger CD box set from 1993 called "Crazy Diamond." This wonderful set contains three discs, two containing each of Syd's solo records, the first being "The Mad Cap Laughs," and the third disc is the rarities collection "Opel." And as part of this unique collection, even Syd's two legit solo records contain a wide array of alternate takes, and this genuinely serves as a rare opportunity to crawl inside of Syd Barrett's brain for a few brief minutes.