this poem of syd's has got to be my favorite piece of semi-lost media. it was copied down from the (since destroyed) hipgnosis archives by bernard white, who did a lot of work collecting syd relics (for instance, he's the one who got ahold of the photos of syd's 1975 studio visit). the poem was published in Terrapin magazine in 1974. because there is no original version, there's been arguments about whether its even real – especially after one of white's two copies was auctioned off under the false pretense that it was in syd's handwriting.
I, for one, think the poem is real. If you're familiar with syd's lyrical style, its pretty clearly his characteristic off-kilter way of wording things, and I absolutely love it. no one else can really capture that feeling of "I understand exactly what you're saying, without understanding exactly what you're saying". I find it very meaningful.
(text below the cut)
A Poem By Syd Barrett
"A Rooftop Song In A Thunderstorm Row Missing The Point"
This is the room, the start of it all
No portrait so fine, only sheets on the wall
I've seen the nights, filled with bloodsport and pain
And the bodies obtained, the bodies obtained
Where will it end? Where will it end?
Where will it end? Where will it end?
State of mind: I created a temporary version of my new song and I can't stop listening to it. I got addicted to my own song. It never happened before with such an intensity. Listening to my stuff will make it up for some time for not trying any more emotions when listening to my favourite artists. Then I listened to "Archangel" by Burial, which I liked a lot in the past. Well, my bloody song is a lot better than that. Maybe not true, but definitely I like it more. "Archangel" is damn static and kinda predictable. My bloody song goes wherever fuck it wants.
andulkaphoto
blakekathryn
prguitarman
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
