A day in the garden with mad genius
Let me in... Let me in through these gates of this yard, in this hole and waiting for someone who standing behind the blue door.
No answer.
The man in the black coat silently gazed at me at the rear of the garden.
“Hello”, my broken English sounded awfully and I was confused a little bit.
The man disappeared in the bushes. I was confused little bit more.
In the course of a few minutes he reappeared, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and rumpling his plastic bag. He stood looking outside for some moments, and then I saw him walk in an oddly furtive manner towards the gates.
Nobody there, today I was alone, I hope.
“Hello, Mr. Barrett”, I said thinking how is better to call him, like this way I have said or just “Sir”.
“Hi”, he answered finally.
“Are you Mr. Barrett?” I asked.
“Yes, but if you are looking for Syd or something like that he is not living here. Okay?”
“Well, I am looking for you, Sir”, I said, O, God, I should say “…for you, Mr. Barrett”
The man after some hesitation, leant against of the gates, produced a small can tin, took the plastic lighter and prepared to smoke. His fingers trembled while doing so.
...
4:00 p.m.
...
“What do you want to know?” he asked calmly with warm in his voice and smiled.
“Everything”, wordless at moment I quite lost in astonishment.
“You know, there are lots of people who came here to know everything, but you have already know everything since you came here. Nothing to add. Nothing at all.”
“But what happened in the last years, what happened actually then?”
“Nothing happened”, old Syd has grinned quite same he was on his old pictures.
“Did you write new songs?”
“Yes, a little… I spent more time for painting, you see”, he just felt to thinking for a while, “You see these roses and leafage around? I still wonder how they are helping to live here, so many years… So many fucking years they thought I was mad, and that was actually my idea. It is better to be mad hiding in nowhere and being nobody. They’re used to call me “crazy diamond” but I don’t like it really, so foolish. No sense to use these symbols then, what “crazy diamond” am I? Look at me. When I was younger I thought the music can join with painting and then with colours, with tastes and everything that I felt. But I am losing. Now I didn’t felt sounds or colours, I have lost that gift.
What about Pink Floyd… I listened them several times, they became bigger, and what I remember from sixties we didn’t agree to make such machine for making only money, this was nonsense for sixties, you know. And I was honest, the only…
Music? I don’t think its music or art. Just a pop muzak, nothing else. I don’t remember who said first we should record Emily on there? Was that me?
No, no. I was a big fan of glam era, really. I bought tons of albums living in London. This exciting vivacious pulsating music it is so helpful when you’re smoking a dope and something more.
Acid? No more acid again. Above and beyond I misplaced it. You can’t buy good acid now. You feel like dirt in your mouth. When they started to use the blots I have denied it ultimately. No more good acid again.
Women? No comments… Had them a lot but was only one you’ll never know who she was…
Roger Waters? Who is it? Never heard about it before…
...
5:00 p.m.
...
5:30 p.m.
...
“My wonderful roses, I love them all. Do you believe that I have a little bird living under the roof. Little bird coming every night to sing a song for me before a sleep...”
...
6:00 p.m.
...
6:22 p.m.
...
“Once upon a time a red tail squirrel was my important guest. Very important, you know...”
...
We spent more hours when evening came. I felt it would be imprudence to leave so precious him alone. But he required.
Some piece of paper wind rolled on the ground...
...
I have gone for the next day to come again.
Lost seventies? No, stolen ideas...
Our special reporter went down to the mysterious cellar of Syd Barrett’s house where he found irrefutable proofs that Syd was hided from public after late sixties.
Recently a discovered proof that Syd Barrett was hided from public after late sixties accuses someone who used his ideas in the seventies. Being on the dark side of the Moon and behind the Wall all that time, Syd Barrett made a secret interview in 1973. He shared with his bizarre ideas such as autobiographical movie and massive book about worldwide history of art. As well, he mentioned six channels audio system for realistic sound recordings with positioning the source of the sounds. He described a simple sampler that he made in his own cellar and that could control by computer. He even ordered a small computer system from the States after his meeting with Steve Jobs on the Technical Exhibition. His cellar filled full of synthesizers, guitars and other musical equipment. There are lots of sensational pictures that someone did as if for magazines but he cheated him all that time. Feeding him LSD and saying to publicity that he is Crazy Diamond. No, Syd was a sanest than anyone who dealt with showbiz. He was as Brian Wilson in his agenda but cooler and truthfully. He invented punk, rave parties on his travels to India and Ibiza. Once he noticed in his interview: “Only small sucker prier bothered me all that time. He looked at through the fence from the period of working on “The Wall” up to “Division Bell”. Twice I’ve tried to shoot him from my hand-gun but him still alive and laughing at me.
From the sixth page (Sid sings Syd)
I am just starting to publish excerpts from my new book about Syd Barrett’s life. I've already start a new topic on The Astral Pipers forum with news about brand new eleven pages from the Syd's past. Earlier I described one significant night on the cemetery on Ibiza in 1967 where demons tried to steal Syd's soul.
I hope someone will help me with English grammar and sentence structure as my poor English. I hope I will build here this book with your give a hand. Anyway, I am looking forward to your help and interest. I will just get into this story from the sixth page with these strange remembrances of some person who saw Sid Vicious in Dallas around 1978.
There was an empty bar with some stoned longhaired Americans sitting around. Sid walked out onto the empty stage with few romping musicians on the background. He stood alone and looked exhausted. The nonsense band played some chaotic knocking-off punk tunes and then he explained to the missing crowd that he has something special. To a certain extent mystified twitching his bass he sung the song I did not identify from the beginning but later realized what this was. Goddamnit it was Lucifer Sam from good old times. Oh well, the best thing on this week I saw. Sometimes Sid forgot the words and just scratched his bass. After one or two verses, he stopped and mumbling something about Syd Barrett, that he maybe was his friend and this maybe was too far from here. After twenty minutes, Sid vanished from the scene left me in total confusion until these days.
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