A while back I got an excellent email that was titled Chubby Checker, Syd Barrett, action figures. The Chubby Checker action figure portion has already been featured, but this is the rest of the email:
Also, I would sometime like to read something on the site about Syd Barrett and whether he is alive/sane. I haven't dug through the archives a great deal, so you may have already written such a piece. If this is the case, I say do it again, because every day that Syd Barrett isn't covered is a day that Syd Barrett might have lit himself on fire and become a hot dog vendor (or two, since this is Syd Barrett).
Nazz
At one point I did cover the fact that the only Pink Floyd album I like is The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn, which means I technically only like (The) Pink Floyd with Syd Barrett. I even suspected myself of becoming one of the Syd Barrett People for the few days of my ultra-short Pink Floyd phase. It never really occurred to me to write about Syd Barrett alone but this email cracked me up. I thought, why don't I learn a little more about Syd?
I don't know much about Syd Barrett except that he is the human equivalent of the Loch Ness Monster. Everything I've heard about him is hearsay, and since most of that hearsay came from record store customers it's probably all incorrect. Not that all customers are automatically incorrect, but if you saw the kids spouting off about Pink Floyd you would understand. Anyway, I have seen Syd described as the first psychedelic casualty, a mad genius, a misunderstood genius, and any number of phrases very similar to those. You could mix and match those descriptions and come up with a description of your own if you like. Mad psychedelic genius? Why not. Misunderstood casualty? Sure.
I've heard the rumors, he did too many drugs and freaked out, he left the band, he was kicked out of the band, he's been in a mental hospital for thirty years, etc. You name it, I've probably heard the rumor. Thank you, record store customers! The only thing I could guarantee as fact is that Syd Barrett was a member of Pink Floyd.
I didn't know where to start learning more but luckily I found a very nice Syd Barrett web site. Of course before I did any reading I had to figure out if it was a worthwhile site or not. When I selected the history link there was a note from the webmaster. He said he doesn't have the history up yet because there are many inaccurate stories out there and he wants to make sure the facts are correct before he posts something. All right! I approved of that note so I felt free to poke around the site.
I really liked the site because the sidebar that appears on every page features one of those classic photos of gorgeous young Syd Barrett. What a doll! Back in the magical days when LCG still had VH1 Classic (before he switched satellite providers) they would occasionally play a very early Pink Floyd clip. I don't know what it was, but there was frolicking going on. Every time they showed Syd I would think he was so cute but then I would note his dark circles and mutter, "Poor, poor Syd Barrett." I figured the dark circles were indicators of the imminent slide into mania. Or whatever actually happened.
So the first thing I see is adorable, darling young Syd. Fantastic! (I later found out that the adorable hair was a perm and I was crushed. A perm.) Then I see that across the top of the page there is sort of a Syd photo timeline, and the last one was much more current than I expected. It's Syd looking middle aged and denim jacketed and he does not appear to be in an institutional setting. If anything he looks like he is sitting for his senior picture. He's in front of bricks. And I swear if even one of you just started singing Another Brick In The Wall I'm going to get testy. If that song is now going through your head because I mentioned it and it made you testy, please accept my apology.
Anyway...I didn't even realize there were pictures of Syd available after the early seventies. He aged in the same way that Peter Townsend aged. Same receding hairline, same hair worn very short which makes the receding hairline barely noticeable. Same weight gain that makes him look much healthier than his sixties beanpole self ever did. Same mild scowl that is peculiar to English musical geniuses.
Well, wait now. Do I really think that Syd Barrett is a musical genius? Maybe. I've always thrown him in the mad, misunderstood genius category without giving it much thought. I really like The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn, and there are plenty of people who credit that album for starting a whole new style of rock music. If you want to lump him in that genre-spawning genius category I'm not going to stop you. However, I am going to stop assuming that Syd Barrett has mental problems.
Based on the sketchy profile I cobbled together from the article archives, I'm starting to think that Mr. Barrett is perfectly sane and just doesn't want to talk about Pink Floyd. He's done with it. I would be so thrilled if that is really the case. It would explain why he is so difficult when journalists come to call. Maybe he isn't unstable, maybe he's just tired of Pink Floyd. I tried my theory out on LCG, the one person in the entire world who cares less about Pink Floyd than I do and I don't care at all. Even LCG was entertained by my research and enjoyed the idea of Syd Barrett just passing on being Syd Barrett. (Syd goes by Roger now, his proper name.)
Just because we find it enjoyable doesn't make it true, but I found an article where Pink Floyd's old manager suggested that Syd knows exactly what he is doing and is done being Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd. Yes! Even if my guess is incorrect at least the suspicion is also held by someone who actually knew the man. Speaking of people who knew him, another rumor is that he won't talk to the other members of Pink Floyd because it makes him depressed. If I had to talk to members of Pink Floyd I would be depressed too, so I just assume Syd is sensible and not unstable when it comes to that particular choice.
In fact, choosing not to talk to Roger Waters is sure proof of mental clarity if you ask me. Talking to Roger Waters is extremely low on the list of things I would like to do, right after attending a concert by The Darkness or washing Meat Loaf's sweaty, ruffled laundry. Syd doesn't leave his house much but I wouldn't leave my house either if I thought Roger Waters wanted to talk to me. Of course, that is part of Syd's problem. When he does leave his house it is still an event so every few years a grainy telephoto Loch Ness Monster grade photo of him appears somewhere.
Syd goes to the store! Syd on a bicycle! The Syd hunters are still out there lurking, trying to get a photo of the elusive creature in his natural habitat and I don't imagine they will ever stop. And I can't say that I blame them. I blame them for being a nuisance when Syd is trying to go buy his newspaper, but I no longer blame them for being curious.