I didn’t know anything about Syd Barrett when I started listening to The Dark Side Of The Moon. I didn’t know he was part of Pink Floyd, or he was musical genius, or that anyone missed him after his descent into insanity. I guess no one knows if his demise was a result of using LSD, and I don’t know anything about that either – I (unfortunately) missed that whole trippy druggy 60’s acid-rock thing.
Syd’s life was no fairy tale. The man was the driving force behind the greatest psychedelic rock band EVER. But after he left PInk Floyd he pretty much spent the second half of his life as a recluse, gardening and painting, unhinged, alienated, psychopathic. Except for the wee bit o’ insanity, it doesn’t sound half bad, frittering the hours away, creating art. I could stop paying my bills and stop worrying, tell everyone to bite me, and “X” myself out of society, as Charles Manson famously said. Not that I’d carve anything into my forehead… My point is, I think I need a vacation.
Now here’s a sweet little story: A little brown-haired girl grew up in L.A. with two parents and a brother. Things were fantastic. She loved the beach, and her skateboard, and Leif Garrett. She read The Great Gatsby and she knew she wanted to be a writer. So she wrote all the time, in notebooks and on napkins, and one day they invented “the internet”. So she listened to Pink Floyd a lot and wrote on her web log about her life and everything that she loved. My life as a writer will be so fantastic! One day, I’ll go to Paris, and write something people will really dig! She wanted to be like F Scott Fitzgerald, and other writers from that time, and didn’t care that it all came with drinking problems, instability, and just a little bit of paranoid delusion.
…I’ve never made it to Paris. But I’m still sitting here, writing. And I really don’t think there’s any such thing as living Happily Ever After. It sounds so stupid. You really don’t need to sell me fantasies to cope with reality; I’m OK with it, I love my life, even though it has it’s dark side. Having said that, I don’t know where or who I’d be without Pink Floyd, who made a masterpiece album about greed, money, life, death, and one person’s mental illness. In Japan, Dark Side Of The Moon is called Madness. No wonder Syd dug fairy tales. ♥ ♥ ♥