
While snooping around one of my favorite book stores in the whole wide world {Spoonbill & Sugartown in Brooklyn, NY} I noticed a pile of books entitled “Psychedelic Renegades” on sale for $9, so, of course I immediately raised an eyebrow at the given proposition. Actually, I don’t know how to isolate one eyebrow at a time, so I probably raised both of them simultaneously, to be more accurate. As my eyes lowered, I noticed that the said book was compiled of legendary Rock n’ Roll photographer Mick Rock’s photos of Syd Barrett taken between 1969 and 1971. You may also know Syd from Pink Floyd’s early work or his two solo efforts. Nine dollars, you say? Goldmine! Perhaps I’m drawn to the chap for his feeble mental conditions, reclusive tendencies and “mad bohemian” persona. You see, dears, I have a “type”.



“We were psychedelic renegades exploring an inner landscape where everything was turned upside down. We had penetrated the looking glass and were living in a parallel dimension where everyone was beautiful and spiritually free. It was great to be young and completely out of our minds…”




“Really, it was impossible, and still is, to pin Syd down. No-one knows why he behaved in the way that he did, or why he chose to go and live like a recluse. Maybe it had a lot to do with his creativity. Perhaps he wanted to be a free-form artist like a jazz player, instead of having to go out and play hit records. I suppose that’s why I always thought of him as a mad poet, not in the sense that he was crazy, just that he was someone who didn’t want to deal with commercial constraints on creativity.”

“Syd is a fabulous enigma. Like the Scarlet Pimpernel he seems both damned and elusive. And like the Pimpernel, the last laugh is on the rest of us…”
July 27th, 2010 by admin | No Comments »