When you think of Syd, you probably do not think, "What a great lyricist." Most Floyd fans associate lyrics with Roger Waters. When they think of Syd they generally think of experimental music, acoustic guitar, and childlike themes.
I believe that Syd was an excellent lyricist. His lyrics were simple and to the point. He did not rhyme about the pressures of everyday life, did not tell stories of a mid-life crises, and did not sing about wars. What he did do was sing about Bob Dylan singing about wars. He sung about love, madness, transvestites, and elephants. And he did this wonderfully.
He had a way of unexpectingly extending a melody to fit in a few words (Lucy Leave, Bike, Late Night, Dominoes). I always liked this effect. (I do not know how to describe this very well).
One of my favorite songs lyrically is "Late Night":
"When I lay still at night
Seeing stars high and light
Then I wanted to be with you
When the rooftops shone dark
All alone saw a spark
Spark of love just to stay with you"
("Late Night").
This is a great example of Barrett's way of providing imagery. His lyrics were not always grammatically correct ("stars high and light"), but they always paint a vivid picture in my mind. "Spark of love" is a bit of a cliché, but he used it after singing about light stars and dark rooftops, making it fit.
Some other lyrics of note are (some of them for comical elements):
"Chapter 24"
"Bike" (I can not help but love this song)
"Jugband Blues" (It is clear that he knows this was one of his last songs with the band)
"Vegetable Man" (Describing his illness?)
"Dark Globe"
"Here I Go" (This song always brings a smile to my face - perfect combination of music and lyrics)
"Dominoes"
"Effervescing Elephant" (I busted out laughing the fist time I heard this - I will not spoil the ending, but the last line is enough to make even God chuckle)
"Bob Dylan Blues" (I believe that this is written jokingly. Nevertheless, if I were Dylan I would love this song also)
Does anybody else feel the same way I do about his lyrics?
Syd Barrett, A Great Lyricist
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generalhooha
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Syd'sSexy
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Maisie
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SO HAPPY TO SEE THIS TOPIC!!!!
Syd was to me.. a profoundly simple beautiful lyricist. he was a poet who painted word pictures.. his imagery is open to interpretation of course but i think there ar some of us here who definitely GET IT.
i think he spoke alot about what he felt and what he saw and HOW PEOpLE TREATED HIM.. but in such a way as to be vague enough to be variable and plain enough to understand. i think its all there .. and he had the uncanny abilty to not just TELL you how he was feeling.. but to MAKE YOU FEEL IT as well..
OPEL..
i can stil remember the first time i heard it and how i felt myself being pulled deeper and deeper into the alienation.. TEARS...
and his voice along with the lyrics.. a combination like no one else..
andin the song FEEL...
the gut feeling behind it when he says`` oh so alone.. ``
Does ANYONE else imbue those three words with as much sadness?
truly and for me always ..there will NEVER be another like Syd..
and of course=as was mentioned... the song Late Night..the firstt Syd song i was inspired to learn to play
such a unusual chord progrssion coupled with the lyrics...
Inside me i feel alone and unreal.. and something so simple and sweet as saying `
``and the way you kiss will always be a very special thing to me..``
Syds cliches`` never seemed like anyone elses..
thank you for starting this topic.. this old Syd fan loves you for it...
``Well oh baby my hairs on end about you!``
Syd was to me.. a profoundly simple beautiful lyricist. he was a poet who painted word pictures.. his imagery is open to interpretation of course but i think there ar some of us here who definitely GET IT.
i think he spoke alot about what he felt and what he saw and HOW PEOpLE TREATED HIM.. but in such a way as to be vague enough to be variable and plain enough to understand. i think its all there .. and he had the uncanny abilty to not just TELL you how he was feeling.. but to MAKE YOU FEEL IT as well..
OPEL..
i can stil remember the first time i heard it and how i felt myself being pulled deeper and deeper into the alienation.. TEARS...
and his voice along with the lyrics.. a combination like no one else..
andin the song FEEL...
the gut feeling behind it when he says`` oh so alone.. ``
Does ANYONE else imbue those three words with as much sadness?
truly and for me always ..there will NEVER be another like Syd..
and of course=as was mentioned... the song Late Night..the firstt Syd song i was inspired to learn to play
such a unusual chord progrssion coupled with the lyrics...
Inside me i feel alone and unreal.. and something so simple and sweet as saying `
``and the way you kiss will always be a very special thing to me..``
Syds cliches`` never seemed like anyone elses..
thank you for starting this topic.. this old Syd fan loves you for it...
``Well oh baby my hairs on end about you!``
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Syd'sSexy
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Maisie...perhaps you will enjoy this "review" written by LastEmptyInches, a member of the Astral Pipers forum. I am of the opinion that his writings and analysis are superb!!!
Opel (Syd Barrett’s Solo Masterpiece)
Recorded on April 11, 1969 and unreleased until 1988, this was the very first solo Syd Barrett song I ever heard. A decade later in Amsterdam, I came face to face with “Opel.” “Wheat Fields with Crows” was not Vincent Van Gogh’s last work, but it hangs with mysterious originality against the very end of his life. Painted in mid-July 1890, Vincent would embrace a bullet on July 27, 1890. Syd would conclude his formal musical career exactly 80 years later, when the Barrett recording sessions ended on July 17, 1970.
http://www.eyeoftheart.com/articles/sec ... fields.gif
An insidiously dichotomous work, “Wheat Fields with Crows” rewards your innocent first glance with a vast and luscious landscape of sweeping, glistening gold. Your eye falls naturally upon a narrow path, bordered by inviting greens but striking a mysteriously solitary tone by narrowing subtly into the distance. You instinctively follow the path deeper and onward with your eyes, only to suddenly notice that you’ve fallen forever into the scene; you’re standing all alone at the edge of a gentle turn that leads beyond all knowing. Looking up, you are overcome by twisting dark clouds drawing now into your very spirit, and blackest crows, flying low over the landscape, scattered, calling, calling your name, calling you into an eternal mystery that just moments ago was only a dream…
On a distant shore, miles from land,
Stands the ebony totem, in ebony sand
A dream in a mist of grey,
On a far distant shore…
Syd pulls us into his own painting, and we follow his words to that distant shore, miles from land, into his dream, into his mist of grey…
The pebble that stood alone,
And driftwood lies half buried
Warm shallow water sweep shells
So the cockles shine...
A pebble stands alone. That pebble is you, it is me, it is Syd, it is everyone. We see the driftwood, our dreams buried and washed in the sand. The water is so very warm and we see the shells and the cockles do shine. They shine in the sun. The alliteration in the line, “Warm shallow water sweeps shells, so the cockles shine.” is simply beyond compare in the folk/rock idiom. Lennon, Dylan, Waters… Behold the master.
A bare winding carcass, stark
Shimmers as flies scoop up meat, an empty way...
Dry tears...
The dark clouds and the crows are descending. A dream, a soul, a spirit laid bare in the glistening sunlight, fallen, helpless, treading the sand, fed upon by parasites, an eternity of tears shed in a moment, now dry upon the face of a life that is no more. The eye’s gently close, the ears yet hear… the mind alone speaks…
Crisp flax squeaks, tall reeds
Make a circle of grey in a summer way, around man
Stood on ground...
One of the finest poetic phrases ever turned by a human being, “Crisp flax squeaks, tall reeds, make a circle of grey, in a summer way, around man.” Nearly embraced by the circle of grey, Syd stands his ground and bravely faces the gentle turn that leads beyond all knowing.
In these scant few lines we are treated to the soul of a timeless poet and the undiminished, calling voice of a master wordsmith. No languid mandrax delivery here. Each word, each syllable, each enunciation is perfect, present and English. Syd offers this naked song to us with love and pride and sublime confidence. This work is new, it is a new song, but it embodies a fully matured confidence and style we first heard in “Lucy Leave.” This is a master offering his masterwork, and he knows it.
At 1:58 the strumming begins, progressing through change after change, rising and falling, carrying us along in its wake. We can only wonder what he planned for these unaccompanied bars, though they exist perfectly in and of themselves. Listen closely, as something magical occurs between 3:16 and 3:24. His strumming softens and what can be described as a rhythmic resonance pattern emerges between the chords. He settles into this trancelike pattern for only 8 luscious seconds, but it somehow resolves what came before and prepares us for the end.
Syd builds the song again; chord by chord and at 3:50 his voice bites into the silence and into our lulled minds, flashing like an unexpected dream, a twilight hallucinatory specter projecting from some alien dimension… Syd has entered the circle of grey and now sings from that dreamscape. In this realm time dilates and each phrase stretches to the very edge of infinity, unfolding in slow motion and sending synchronistic ripples shimmering forth into the coincidental ether. Listen to the far-away, insanity-laden dissonance Syd creates with the chord ringing behind “iiiiiinggggg.” Its feel is very reminiscent of Gilmour’s opening motif for “Shine On.” Calling across inner and outer space, each word comes to life, trying to echo eternally inside our heads, only to fade helplessly into silence.
I’m trying,
I’m trying,
To find you,
To find you,
I’m living,
I’m giving,
To find you,
To find you,
Hypnotized, we’ve followed him into the dreamscape, into the circle of grey, where the dark clouds threaten. Syd approaches the distant, gentle turn and taking pause, he calls out one last time... He calls to his fading dreams; Calls to his fading self; Calls to his fading youth; Calls to love lost; Stranded and pleading, trying desperately to find his former self, searching the narrowing path for just a glimpse of the life that so quickly drifted beyond the horizon, beyond view, becoming only an impulse. Somehow, these plaintive calls become our own.
At 5:09 the chords soften and his voice transmutes into a distant chant.
“I’m living, I’m living, I’m trying, I’m giving…”
Unanswered, his final word fades slowly into silence. Alone, Syd turns toward the horizon, toward the invisible landscape where his dreams may be found, and then disappears forever.
Opel (Syd Barrett’s Solo Masterpiece)
Recorded on April 11, 1969 and unreleased until 1988, this was the very first solo Syd Barrett song I ever heard. A decade later in Amsterdam, I came face to face with “Opel.” “Wheat Fields with Crows” was not Vincent Van Gogh’s last work, but it hangs with mysterious originality against the very end of his life. Painted in mid-July 1890, Vincent would embrace a bullet on July 27, 1890. Syd would conclude his formal musical career exactly 80 years later, when the Barrett recording sessions ended on July 17, 1970.
http://www.eyeoftheart.com/articles/sec ... fields.gif
An insidiously dichotomous work, “Wheat Fields with Crows” rewards your innocent first glance with a vast and luscious landscape of sweeping, glistening gold. Your eye falls naturally upon a narrow path, bordered by inviting greens but striking a mysteriously solitary tone by narrowing subtly into the distance. You instinctively follow the path deeper and onward with your eyes, only to suddenly notice that you’ve fallen forever into the scene; you’re standing all alone at the edge of a gentle turn that leads beyond all knowing. Looking up, you are overcome by twisting dark clouds drawing now into your very spirit, and blackest crows, flying low over the landscape, scattered, calling, calling your name, calling you into an eternal mystery that just moments ago was only a dream…
On a distant shore, miles from land,
Stands the ebony totem, in ebony sand
A dream in a mist of grey,
On a far distant shore…
Syd pulls us into his own painting, and we follow his words to that distant shore, miles from land, into his dream, into his mist of grey…
The pebble that stood alone,
And driftwood lies half buried
Warm shallow water sweep shells
So the cockles shine...
A pebble stands alone. That pebble is you, it is me, it is Syd, it is everyone. We see the driftwood, our dreams buried and washed in the sand. The water is so very warm and we see the shells and the cockles do shine. They shine in the sun. The alliteration in the line, “Warm shallow water sweeps shells, so the cockles shine.” is simply beyond compare in the folk/rock idiom. Lennon, Dylan, Waters… Behold the master.
A bare winding carcass, stark
Shimmers as flies scoop up meat, an empty way...
Dry tears...
The dark clouds and the crows are descending. A dream, a soul, a spirit laid bare in the glistening sunlight, fallen, helpless, treading the sand, fed upon by parasites, an eternity of tears shed in a moment, now dry upon the face of a life that is no more. The eye’s gently close, the ears yet hear… the mind alone speaks…
Crisp flax squeaks, tall reeds
Make a circle of grey in a summer way, around man
Stood on ground...
One of the finest poetic phrases ever turned by a human being, “Crisp flax squeaks, tall reeds, make a circle of grey, in a summer way, around man.” Nearly embraced by the circle of grey, Syd stands his ground and bravely faces the gentle turn that leads beyond all knowing.
In these scant few lines we are treated to the soul of a timeless poet and the undiminished, calling voice of a master wordsmith. No languid mandrax delivery here. Each word, each syllable, each enunciation is perfect, present and English. Syd offers this naked song to us with love and pride and sublime confidence. This work is new, it is a new song, but it embodies a fully matured confidence and style we first heard in “Lucy Leave.” This is a master offering his masterwork, and he knows it.
At 1:58 the strumming begins, progressing through change after change, rising and falling, carrying us along in its wake. We can only wonder what he planned for these unaccompanied bars, though they exist perfectly in and of themselves. Listen closely, as something magical occurs between 3:16 and 3:24. His strumming softens and what can be described as a rhythmic resonance pattern emerges between the chords. He settles into this trancelike pattern for only 8 luscious seconds, but it somehow resolves what came before and prepares us for the end.
Syd builds the song again; chord by chord and at 3:50 his voice bites into the silence and into our lulled minds, flashing like an unexpected dream, a twilight hallucinatory specter projecting from some alien dimension… Syd has entered the circle of grey and now sings from that dreamscape. In this realm time dilates and each phrase stretches to the very edge of infinity, unfolding in slow motion and sending synchronistic ripples shimmering forth into the coincidental ether. Listen to the far-away, insanity-laden dissonance Syd creates with the chord ringing behind “iiiiiinggggg.” Its feel is very reminiscent of Gilmour’s opening motif for “Shine On.” Calling across inner and outer space, each word comes to life, trying to echo eternally inside our heads, only to fade helplessly into silence.
I’m trying,
I’m trying,
To find you,
To find you,
I’m living,
I’m giving,
To find you,
To find you,
Hypnotized, we’ve followed him into the dreamscape, into the circle of grey, where the dark clouds threaten. Syd approaches the distant, gentle turn and taking pause, he calls out one last time... He calls to his fading dreams; Calls to his fading self; Calls to his fading youth; Calls to love lost; Stranded and pleading, trying desperately to find his former self, searching the narrowing path for just a glimpse of the life that so quickly drifted beyond the horizon, beyond view, becoming only an impulse. Somehow, these plaintive calls become our own.
At 5:09 the chords soften and his voice transmutes into a distant chant.
“I’m living, I’m living, I’m trying, I’m giving…”
Unanswered, his final word fades slowly into silence. Alone, Syd turns toward the horizon, toward the invisible landscape where his dreams may be found, and then disappears forever.
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Maisie
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BEAUTIFUL.... POIGNANT ....
It feels good to now i am not alone inhow deeply that song has affected me.
you know ..after syd passed.. it took me awhile to listen to any of his solo music..first came the more humourous ones.. Octopus Ride= Effervescing Elephant...
and out of all of it..i simply could NOT bear to listen to OPEL.. it made me break down .. i have only listend to it once since last July.... but i think it is time again..
thanks so much for posting..
It feels good to now i am not alone inhow deeply that song has affected me.
you know ..after syd passed.. it took me awhile to listen to any of his solo music..first came the more humourous ones.. Octopus Ride= Effervescing Elephant...
and out of all of it..i simply could NOT bear to listen to OPEL.. it made me break down .. i have only listend to it once since last July.... but i think it is time again..
thanks so much for posting..
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Syd'sSexy
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You are welcome Maisie! Though I cannot take one iota of credit for that review, LEI's writings are magical and very profound! If you are interested, I will post more of his reviews of Syd's solo material once I ask his permission. He is truly a gifted writer and I so enjoy reading and contemplating his thoughts and analyses!
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kingfisher_flashing
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I totally agree with you SS. Last Empty Inches interpretations of Syd's lyrics encaptulates the very essence of the man. If LEI were to write a book on Syd's lyrics I would buy it without hesitation.
My absolute favourite Syd song would have to be It is obvious:
It is obvious
may I say, oh baby, that it is found on another plane?
Yes I can creep into cupboards, sleep in the hall
your stars - my stars, a simple cock bar
only an impulse - pie in the sky
mumble listen dolly
drift over your mind - holly
creep into bed when your head's on the ground
she held the torch on the porch,
she winked an eye
Reason it is written on the brambles
stranded on the spikes - my blood red, oh listen:
remember those times I could call
through the clear day
time - be there...
braver and braver, a handkerchief waver
the louder you lips to a loud hailer
growing together, they ('re) growing each either
no wondering, stumbling, fumbling
rumbling minds shot together,
our minds shot together...
So equally over a valley, a hill
wood on quarry stood, each of us crying
a velvet curtain of gray
mark the blanket where the sparrows play
and the trees by the waving corn stranded
my legs move the last empty inches to you
the softness, the warmth from the weather in suspense
mote to a grog - the star a white chalk
minds shot together, our minds shot together...
The last section of this song makes my knees go week everytime I hear it.
To me it is a description of undying love.
Beautiful
My absolute favourite Syd song would have to be It is obvious:
It is obvious
may I say, oh baby, that it is found on another plane?
Yes I can creep into cupboards, sleep in the hall
your stars - my stars, a simple cock bar
only an impulse - pie in the sky
mumble listen dolly
drift over your mind - holly
creep into bed when your head's on the ground
she held the torch on the porch,
she winked an eye
Reason it is written on the brambles
stranded on the spikes - my blood red, oh listen:
remember those times I could call
through the clear day
time - be there...
braver and braver, a handkerchief waver
the louder you lips to a loud hailer
growing together, they ('re) growing each either
no wondering, stumbling, fumbling
rumbling minds shot together,
our minds shot together...
So equally over a valley, a hill
wood on quarry stood, each of us crying
a velvet curtain of gray
mark the blanket where the sparrows play
and the trees by the waving corn stranded
my legs move the last empty inches to you
the softness, the warmth from the weather in suspense
mote to a grog - the star a white chalk
minds shot together, our minds shot together...
The last section of this song makes my knees go week everytime I hear it.
To me it is a description of undying love.
Beautiful
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moom
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Syd'sSexy
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![[-D-]](./images/smilies/eusa_clap.gif "Applause"){kind=small}
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Maisie
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nosaj! that just about sez it all the joy of words and i agree with surpassing ``that other fellow``hahaha seriously Waters lyrics are incedible but Syd was in a league of his own ...
there really and truly is no one else like him i have listend to lots of music of all kinds for years and many times you can say about one person or another ``they remind me of so and so `` or they sound a bit like such and such``
But To me.Syd doesnt sound like ANYONE ..but himself..
there really and truly is no one else like him i have listend to lots of music of all kinds for years and many times you can say about one person or another ``they remind me of so and so `` or they sound a bit like such and such``
But To me.Syd doesnt sound like ANYONE ..but himself..
Last edited by Maisie on Wed May 02, 2007 7:01 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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nosaj
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Well...
An open-sign system may be a situation where words, images etc. - i.e. Art - opens up meaning and can lead in many directions.
A closed-sign sytem may be a situation like the above, but leading to a direct action - like an advertisment leading you to purchase something.
This is a very simple and quick point (it would take 20 pages for me to make a clear point here)...
So, Syd's lyrics leave you open to interpretation in a very large way.
Roger, though there can be double meanings, tends more to a specific reading or interpretation.
I keep quiet about my joy of listening to PF with Art friends, because a lot of them don't like the literalness of say Time, with the clocks and the words etc...not much to interpret, but well done...The Wall? Kinda leads your thoughts in a specific direction...Syd would be appreciated.
I was going to get into this for the newsletter in a more coherent manner...but I'm too busy working AND srewing around on this forum.
An open-sign system may be a situation where words, images etc. - i.e. Art - opens up meaning and can lead in many directions.
A closed-sign sytem may be a situation like the above, but leading to a direct action - like an advertisment leading you to purchase something.
This is a very simple and quick point (it would take 20 pages for me to make a clear point here)...
So, Syd's lyrics leave you open to interpretation in a very large way.
Roger, though there can be double meanings, tends more to a specific reading or interpretation.
I keep quiet about my joy of listening to PF with Art friends, because a lot of them don't like the literalness of say Time, with the clocks and the words etc...not much to interpret, but well done...The Wall? Kinda leads your thoughts in a specific direction...Syd would be appreciated.
I was going to get into this for the newsletter in a more coherent manner...but I'm too busy working AND srewing around on this forum.
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