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RIP Syd Barrett


Big F'n Dave
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:D

 

I read a bunch of articles about people trying to interview him. He was consistent in his refusals, except one brief chat with a reporter. His sister looked after him and he spent most of his time tending a small garden.

 

Peter Green of Fleetwood Mac had a long period of being a recluse after becoming an acid casualty and IIRC Roky Erickson did also. Both of them survive and have made at least some re-emergence.

 

RIP, Syd. The band you helped start became as big as Beethoven.......

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:D

 

I read a bunch of articles about people trying to interview him. He was consistent in his refusals, except one brief chat with a reporter. His sister looked after him and he spent most of his time tending a small garden.

 

Peter Green of Fleetwood Mac had a long period of being a recluse after becoming an acid casualty and IIRC Roky Erickson did also. Both of them survive and have made at least some re-emergence.

 

RIP, Syd. The band you helped start became as big as Beethoven.......

 

you mean the movie?

 

I liked Charles Grodin

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Here are the complete lyrics to Shine On You Crazy Diamond. Sad story. :D

 

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.

You were caught on the crossfire

Of childhood and stardom,

Blown on the steel breeze.

Come on you target for faraway laughter,

Come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!

 

You reached for the secret too soon,

You cried for the moon.

Shine on you crazy diamond.

Threatened by shadows at night,

And exposed in the light.

Shine on you crazy diamond.

Well you wore out your welcome

With random precision,

Rode on the steel breeze.

Come on you raver, you seer of visions,

Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

 

Nobody knows where you are,

How near or how far.

Shine on you crazy diamond.

Pile on many more layers

And I'll be joining you there.

Shine on you crazy diamond.

And we'll bask in the shadow

Of yesterday's triumph,

And sail on the steel breeze.

Come on you boy child,

You winner and loser,

Come on you miner for truth and delusion, and shine!

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was it in his basement and did it require special lighting?

 

He did emerge from the house on occasion. He also painted sometimes.

 

Long but fascinating article by a prospective Barrett interviewer

 

Then, a sound in the hall. Has he come in from the back garden? Perhaps it needs mowing, like the front lawn - although, judging by the mound of weeds by the path, he's been tidying the beds today.

 

As I reach the gate, I see him weeding in the front corner of the garden, on his knees.

 

'Hi,' I say. 'I've written you a note.'

 

'Huh,' he says, not looking up, throwing roots behind him.

 

'May I leave it?' He straightens and stares into my eyes, but doesn't answer. He's wearing khaki shorts now, and gardening gloves, which aren't really suited to receiving the note - and I would be tempting fate to rest it on the side of the wheelbarrow which he has bought with him.

 

'Shall I put it through the letterbox?'

 

'It's nothing to do with me,' he says. So I do.

 

'Nice day,' I say, on leaving. 'Goodbye.'

 

He doesn't reply, and I never hear from him.

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Between this thread and the Mushroom thread there is something to be learned.

 

Single-time or limited casual use of psychedelics in a safe environment can be a good thing.

 

Over-use of heavy psychedelics is not healthy for the old think-muscle.

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