Syd Barrett

Now I love Syd Barrett as much as the next man, or as much as he ought to, but I have a real problem with the cult of Syd that still continues to this day. Syd's genius is based upon a very slim body of work, essentially Piper at the Gates of Dawn, The Madcap Laughs, bits of Barrett and a handful of singles. There is no question that the early years with The Pink Floyd produced some remarkable material and performances, and that the pinnacle of Syd's career was Piper. His tenuous connection with reality once the fame and the drugs got a grip on a fragile mind led to the inevitable split with the career minded Floyd. Jugband Blues, his eccentric contribution to their second album bore no relation to anything else that was happening at those sessions.

It really seemed to belong on Madcap, the first release under his own name. This is where it begins to get difficult.

Madcap on the whole is a great album, the only essential post Floyd product. It has some truly inspired moments, and one or two less so, hints of what was to come. Everybody was so desperate for Syd to succeed, Dave Gilmour bent over backwards to salvage something from almost nothing to produce the eponymous second album, silk purses and sows' ears. By this time Syd was turning up at the studio with no material, scratching away at his guitar and rambling incoherently into a microphone from time to time, then disappearing. Very occasionally something worthwhile would surface, Baby Lemonade and perhaps Effervescing Elephant being a case in point.

In reality he was descending into the depths of mental illness, his musical talents were now blowing in the wind. Outside of Syd's family and genuine friends this was where the story should have ended. Sadly this was not to be, the flame still burned for a dedicated few who in some misguided way believed that one day their hero might perform again. Into the mid eighties and the word went round that a group of obsessives had obtained the rights to studio reels from various sources, and the suggestion was that there were more out there for those wishing persevere.

The first official appearance of any of this material was Opel, a collection of eight previously unreleased songs and six alternative takes from both the Madcap and Barrett sessions, very little of real quality and surely the bottom of the barrel. But oh no, 1993 saw the release of Crazy Diamond, a three CD box set that combined Madcap, Barrett and Opel plus an admittedly excellent booklet, with further stark and painful out takes to titillate the completists. How far will these people go? How many more alternative takes can you take? Why is what was once considered substandard now a work of art? How long is a piece of string?

Further releases are promised, it's hard to believe there is anybody out there who can listen to this stuff and gain pleasure from it. The whole thing is artistically barren, the only positive thing is that the royalties will help Roger Barrett as age and ill health catch up with him in whatever world he inhabits now. Shine on.