My old pal Mr. Barrett died on the seventh. And as I've said before, it should have been David Crosby.
This is going to be a very difficult article to write.
I'm too much of a Pink Floyd fan to not highlight this tragic event, although I feel that who Syd used to be: a man loved by so many, has been dead for a long long time. Syd Barrett is one of several people I like to refer to as "incidentally unforgettable", he meant to do several of the things that made him significant, but his destructive nature and tragic fate were what truly galvanized him in the annals of psychedelia. Other deceased rock stars who were famous for wild behavior (like Hendrix or Keith Moon) are mostly remembered for their talents, not their antics. Think of it like this: when someone mentions "Arnold Layne" or "See Emily Play" they're usually referring to The Floyd, not Syd. This is a shame indeed, as many would say that for a time Syd WAS The Floyd. He was actually quite a decent guitarist for a time.
My pothead friends and I had always heard this and that about 'ol Syd - that wile living in some flat right after Piper was released he had taken so much acid that his mates locked him in a closet for days on end. Supposedly this happened more than once, too. More than one person has told me that the "obligatory Hendrix perm" was a concoction of acid and 'ludes that Sid used to do his hair with. Pink Floyd themselves tell the story of Syd showing up unannounced at Abbey Road during a session and jumping up and down with a toothbrush. Listening to "Barrett" or "The Madcap Laughs" you could easily believe stories like this. I own both of those records although I don't listen to them that often; they depress me far worse than "The final Cut" ever has. Strangely, I was humming "Effervescing Elephant" to myself the other day.
It's depressing to think that there really are acid casualties, that not everyone recovered from those days. I've certainly killed millions of brain cells in my time, I have friends who did far more damage than I did to myself as well; but all of us are mostly hunky-dory today. I'd heard that Syd lived with his mother and wandered the streets as a recluse for the past thirty years or so, which is a damn shame. Still, it's perfecty likely that Syd was just sick to begin with, and the drugs only worsened things.
At least I can end this article on somewhat of a high note: Many, many people with talent say Syd influenced them. Bowie cites him as one of his biggest infuences, and that's about the greatest endorsement a washed-up musician could ever hope for. Robyn Hitchcock essentially is Syd, and puts out good records to boot. Pete Townshend called Barrett legendary.
You'll be missed, Syd.
