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By Nick Kent
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Additional resources for The Dark Stuff: Selected Writings on Rock Music
The remainder of the gang have been really all 3 status at the level, able to start, whilst Barrett ultimately woke up from his numb narcissistic reverie in entrance of the dressing-room reflect. First he roused himself to motion by means of emptying a bottle of sturdy tranquillizers referred to as ‘Mandrax’ of its contents and breaking the drugs into tiny fragments on a close-by desk. He then produced a wide bottle of Brylcream, an exceptionally greasy type of British hair gel, and emptied the full jar directly to the tablets. subsequent, taking the most residue of this gunk in either palms, he lifted it aloft, dumping the entire filthy mess on most sensible of his head, letting it slowly seep directly to his scalp and duly down his neck. Then he grew to become, picked up his white Telecaster with the groovy reflected discs reflecting out, and stepped uncertainly in the direction of the degree. 1 / 4 of an hour later, because the tom-toms have been thumping their manner into trance-time, the bass begun booming out low ominous frequencies and the organ arched off right into a tentative solo packed with highly spiced jap cliches. yet somebody may possibly inform that Syd, as soon as the chief, was once now not inhabiting an analogous planet because the different 3. occasionally he’d twang a number of desultory notes, occasionally he’d run his slide up and down the strings yet every thing sounded so random and fragmented now that not anything he did rather attached with the final sound. in the meantime the lighting fixtures had grown sizzling adequate for Barrett’s acid-casualty hair therapy to begin working amok in numerous gruesome oily streams down his neck and brow whereas the residue of the damaged tablets was once being deposited in all places his face. It was once then that everybody may perhaps see how desperately issues have been going unsuitable, for he gave the impression of a few gruesome waxwork of himself on fireplace, a blurred effigy of melting flesh and mind tissue coming aside in entrance of his friends, his fanatics and his fans. there's a photo of Syd Barrett which occasionally appears to be like that used to be taken good sooner than the darkness descended. He’s candy 16 and sitting cross-legged within the backyard of his mother’s pleasant apartment in Cambridge, fidgeting with a kitten. the picture it conveys is the very epitome of emerging sixties affluence. His outfits are informal, his hair is neither lengthy nor brief, yet already he’s obtained the air of somebody from the 1st ranks of England’s ‘You’ve-never-had-it-so-good’ iteration who understands he possesses either attractiveness and simple allure, anyone beamingly convinced approximately his position sooner or later scheme of items. Why, there’s even an ‘I can’t aid it if I’m fortunate’ twinkle in his eye, an impish grin that’s virtually very unlikely to not be a bit seduced through. It’s a picture worthy learning hard and long, simply because in just an issue of 2 years, probably rather less, the twinkle in these eyes and the glow in these cheeks will be cruelly snuffed out, possibly for ever. additionally, the image shows the character of Syd Barrett’s roots. great. Genteel. top center category. Cambridge. It used to be into this rarefied surroundings that Barrett was once born, certainly one of 5 kids, to Dr Max Barrett, a police pathologist (and best British authority on toddler mortality), and his spouse.