The story of Syd Barrett is legendary. Now it is over. Pink Floyd's founder has died in seclusion. Syd Barrett, 60, rest in peace.

Strangely, I spent two hours reading about Barrett last night as I listened to Wish You Were Here and early Syd Barrett Pink Floyd. I woke up this morning to find that Barrett had passed away. For the uninitiated, Syd Barrett was Pink Floyd's first lead singer/songwriter/guitar player. He led the band from 1965-1968. That Pink Floyd is like nothing you have ever heard, unless of course, you've heard that Pink Floyd. Musically, they have a mid-sixties Beatles flavor, mixed with pop, random screams and click-clacking noises, and an occasional proto-punk sound (Punk is the last word that one would use to describe the later, classic Pink Floyd lineup.). Syd Barrett's Pink Floyd is anything but mellow--the word that comes most to mind in describing post-Syd Pink Floyd. Lyrically, Syd Barrett's songs resemble catchy, psychedelic nursery rhymes.

Barrett fronted the band on such early singles as "Arnold Layne" and "See Emily Play" (a few notes of which can be faintly heard on Richard Wright's keyboard at the close of the Wish You Were Here album), and on the Piper at the Gates of Dawn album, Pink Floyd's first. He also contributes to a few songs on the Saucerful of Secrets sophomore effort. But then he was gone.

The freak-out, psychedelic, drug scene that gave rise to the band led to the demise of its most important member. As one band associate put it: "Syd took a lot of acid. Lots of people can take some acid and cope with it in their lives, but if you take three or four trips a day, and you do that every day..." Nuff said.

A thousand incidents alarmed Syd's bandmates: Roger Waters finding Syd asleep with a cigarette, still clutched, singeing his fingers; Syd suggesting the band add two young female saxaphone players; Syd removing the strings to his guitar during a performance; and Syd mixing tranquilizers with a large quantity of hair gel, only to have the concoction ooze onto his face under the stage lights--giving him a ghoulish, melting appearance as the drugs seeped into his brain--all of this bizarre behavior led to David Gilmour's addition, and shortly thereafter, to Barrett's departure.

"Things came to a head in February [1968] on the day we were due to play a gig in Southampton," drummer Nick Mason, the only continuous member of Pink Floyd, writes in his excellent, excellent book Inside Out: A Personal History of Pink Floyd. "In the car on the way to collect Syd, someone said, 'Shall we pick up Syd?' and the response was 'No, f--- it, let's not bother." The upper-class Englishmen left their friend behind to deal with a permanent hangover from '60s excess.

What might have been had drugs not sent Syd Barrett over the edge of sanity? A totally different band, with a totally different sound, called Pink Floyd.

For five years, Pink Floyd struggled to find a new sound. There are bizarre sound effects and animal noises on Ummagumma. There's a Beach Boys-inspired track on Atom Heart Mother. There's a 26-minute song on Meddle. There are some short, radio-ready, three-minute rock songs on Obscured by Clouds. Throughout, there's a band struggling to find a new identity, and perhaps lose the guilt of which their old identity served as a reminder. Finally, after multiple attempts, any one of which would have resulted in a record-contract severance today, Pink Floyd hit it big, really, really big, with The Dark Side of the Moon, the longest charting album in history. Insanity, curiously, serves as one of the album's themes. That theme would come back again and again in Pink Floyd music.

Syd had faded out of his bandmates' lives. But in 1975 he--or at least a shadow of what he once was--famously faded back into Pink Floyd. "I strolled into the control room for the studio, and noticed a large fat bloke with a shaven head, wearing a decripit old tan mac," drummer Mason recalls. "He was carrying a plastic shopping bag and had a fairly benign, but vacant, expression on his face. His appearance would not have generally gained him admittance beyond studio reception, so I assumed he must have been a friend of one of the engineers." But he wasn't. He was the man who, just seven years earlier, was the lead singer, lead guitarist, and chief songwriter of Pink Floyd. His bandmates didn't recognize him. The jarring meet-up led to confusion, tears, and much of the subsequent Pink Floyd catalogue. It would be the last time any member of Pink Floyd would put eyes on Syd Barrett, who, legend has it, spent the remainder of his days wandering about Cambridge, England.

Ironically, the song Pink Floyd would play for an eyebrow-less Barrett was Shine on You Crazy Diamond: "Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun/Shine on you crazy diamond/Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky/Shine on you crazy diamond." It's about Syd. That Syd, who wandered into the studo with his eyebrows shaved, helped inspire the "Pink" character in The Wall. Brain Damage? In the Flesh? Syd is present even in his absence.

Pink Floyd spent a career losing that distinctive, Syd Barrett Pink Floyd sound. They never suceeded in fully losing Syd Barrett.

Mason's book, Inside Out: A Personal History of Pink Floyd, sounds good. I've seen him interviewed about a few places.

Pick up Wouldn't You Miss Me: The Best of Syd Barrett, released in 2001. It's a collection of unreleased material, with his replacement David Gilmour, producing many of the tracks leftover from the 1970 album Barrett. Some jangly-pop tunes like Octopus and Two of a Kind, some non-sensical psychelic rants like Gigolo Aunt, some good psychelic rock in No Good Trying and a funny parody song called Bob Dylan Blues. Not a lot of upbeat stuff. Creepy sounds for the most part.

Here's one of the last known photo's of Barrett fetching the papers from a local shop in Cambridge: http://www.pinkfloydz.com/personal/Syd-Barrett-abril-2001-1.jpg

RIP, Syd Barrett.

Excellent eulogy. As usual: well written with just enough interesting detail. I actually listened to the early Floyd when Syd was with the band but didn't quite grasp them as I was too young. Will admit to maybe being musically less sophisticated. Loved the later stuff better.

Admittedly, Pink Floyd was better not having Syd Barrett anymore, but they would never have been who they became without him.

The death of Syd struck a chord with me and my mid-month podcast at The Best Radio You Have Never Heard (http://www.bestradiopodcast.com) is a tribute to the great rock visionary.
"Here To Do My Parts" is a tribute to Syd Barrett. Even though of course there is some Pink Floyd music in the show, it is more of a tribute to Syd’s vision. I like to think of it as traveling music for Syd’s iPod as he makes the trek to the Gates of Dawn, or perhaps some gardening music for the great beyond as, in his recent past, gardening was one of Syd’s few hobbies.

Have a listen and let me know what you think.

Perry/Chicago
http://www.bestradiopodcast.com

Since 1988, Syd has reminded me of a friend I had in college who lost his mind to schizophrenia. The disease often hits during that age range. By 1968, when Syd had already decompensated, he was 22. My friend, who like Syd used copious amounts of drugs, was right around that age.

My friend, of course, was not the only one who used copious amounts of drugs. Nor was Syd the only one dropping acid every day in 1967. I get tired of this recitation that drugs did him in. IIt seems obvious that while the drugs didn't help, Syd seems to have taken them in response to the painful deterioration of his consciousness. I've watched this process firsthand, and it is brutal. Syd was mentally ill.

There is no wonder that he occupiued his bandmates' thoughts for so long. Like Syd, my friend was remarkable and creative, extremely bright. His flashes of brilliance while on the downslope were amazing, beautiful and frustrating. Syd was obviously the same.

Have you ever heard the story Roger Waters tells about a song called "Have you got it yet?" Apparently Syd, acutely aware of his worsening situation and inability to function, came in to teach the band a new song he had written called "Have you got it yet?" As he was teaching Waters the song, he kept changing it subtly while singing "have you got it yet?" Roger obliviously played along for a long time before realizing the joke, and the sad reality that lay behind it.

I can tell you that being close to someone who decompensates/self-destructs in that fashion is scarringly painful. The impact that Syd had on Pink Floyd is immeasurable. Gilmore's guilt had him producing lunatic rantings for Syd years later. Water's sadness engendered billiant songs for years.

Syd's collapse had tragic elements and his music and story his me very hard. I lament his death.

> There is no other day
> Let's try it another way
> You'll lose your mind and play
> Free games for may
> (See Emily play)