An All-Star Tribute to Syd Barrett
Pink Floyd Reform at London's Barbican, play alongside Damon Albarn
© Ben Wood
A reformed Pink Floyd, Roger Waters, Damon Albarn, John Paul Jones, Chrissie Hynde played London's Barbican in tribute to recently deceased Pink Floyd founder Syd Barratt
Shine On You Crazy Diamond
Sometimes the stars that shine for the shortest time shine the brightest. On Thursday May 10 2007 at a packed-out London Barbican, an array of famous names – including his former bandmates – paid tribute to Pink Floyd’s legendary, recently deceased founder, Roger ‘Syd’ Barrett.
The Piper at the Gates of Dawn
It was Barrett’s idiosyncratic vision that transformed Floyd from an R’n’B act to psychedelic pioneers whose spectacular debut, 1967’s The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, still sounds like nothing else ever recorded. An LSD-blasted but very English combination of whimsical lyrics, other-worldly musical improvisations and extreme, utterly un-twee spookiness, it is acknowledged as an all-time classic – and has dated considerably better than that other seminal Summer of Love album, the Beatles’ Sgt Pepper.
A Saucerful of Secrets
Following on from the two exquisite Barrett-penned psych-pop singles See Emily Play and Arnold Layne, the album cemented Floyd’s role as underground heroes. But Barrett’s fragile psyche collapsed under the dual pressures of fame and near-constant LSD use, and after contributing just one song to follow-up album A Saucerful of Secrets (Jugband Blues, a frightening account of mental deterioration), he left the band to be replaced by Dave Gilmour.
The Madcap Laughs, Barrett, Opel
With the help of his former bandmates, the former art student managed to record three album’s-worth of sparse, nursery-rhyme songs (The Madcap Laughs and Barrett, and a later, out-takes album Opel) before turning his back on fame and walking back to his native Cambridge to live a quiet life with his sister and his paintbrushes. Surviving on his Floyd royalties as his cult grew, Barrett died in July 2006, aged 60, of complications from diabetes.
Andy Bell and John Paul Jones
The Barbican gig was curated by Dream Academy founder member and latter-day Floyd collaborator Nick Laird-Clowes, and folk-rock legend and Arnold Layne producer Joe Boyd. The presence of so many old punks showed that the old ‘year zero’ notion is long-buried, thank God. An all-star house band featuring Oasis man Andy Bell and Led Zeppelin’s John Paul Jones backed many of the solo performers, in front of psychedelic oil visuals provided by their original 6os creators.
Roger Waters v Pink Floyd
Original members Gilmour, Wright and Mason brought the house down with a fine Arnold Layne, but – unlike at Live 8 – refused to share a stage with long-time enemy Roger Waters. The typically self-obsessed Waters was the only performer not to play a Barrett song, his Dylanesque epic Flickering Flame of dubious relevance. His former bandmates returned to the stage with the entire cast minus Waters for a final massed version of Barrett’s childlike, singalong classic Bike.
Damon Albarn
Much like its creator, the show was all over the place, a hotchpotch of surprising highlights and muffled anticlimaxes. Highlights included the Sense of Sound Choir’s opening acapella Chapter 24; and the seemingly omnipresent Damon Albarn leading the crowd in a massed chantalong of Untitled Words, a list of words that Barrett liked the sound of (“Stained, glaucous, glycerine, gold, goat, clover/ gold, local stocks…”).
Martha Wainright: a highlight
The harmonies of Martha Wainwright, Kate McGarrigle and her niece Lily Lanken may have been slightly ragged around the edges, but their See Emily Play and, particularly, Golden Hair, felt improvised and magical. Their performance was one of the few that captured some of Syd’s spirit of transcendence and blithe unconcern.
Staying with the pluses, Chrissie Hynde showed she still has one of the finest sets of pipes in the business, while lifelong Syd nut Robyn Hitchcock sounded superbly, eccentrically English. Captain Sensible showed why he’s always been a national treasure; and The Bees funked up Octopus.
On the downside, Walters’ dignified monologue was more suitable than his song; Vashti Bunyan’s voice reached for the stars but missed; and Kevin Ayers’ vocals were extremely hard to decipher.
God know what Syd would have made of it all – probably not very much. But his childlike/sage-like supreme indifference to everything (convention, coherence, song structure, stardom) that most musicians cling to, is one of the reasons why he is still held in such high esteem. Barrett couldn't have sold out even if he'd wanted to. British pop’s holy fool is dead… long may he live.
