All right, there may be some controversy, even annoyance at my placing this album here, rather than in the main section, but bear in mind that its being covered here does not mean it’s any less regarded.
Over the Garden Wall was conceived by me as a way of including albums by artists who were either not crucial to, or contributed in any major way to the prog rock movement, or who were just a little too different to be handled in the main section but still deserved to be looked at. Also in this section I intended, and still do, to look at albums that skip along the fringes of prog rock, as well as some that barely qualify as such but are or sound just too damn much fun to leave out.
Given Barrett’s position in musical history, I felt it was only right to afford his debut solo album a place in the main area, but having heard that - and taking into account his relationship with one of prog’s most important bands - I felt it wasn’t even anywhere near prog. More folk or psychedelic if anything, and I couldn’t see it having had any effect on the emerging prog rock scene, much less Pink Floyd themselves. So, having given him the chance and been somewhat underawed by his first album, and assuming his second would be more of the same, I’ve decided to slot it in here, where I personally believe it belongs and will feel more comfortable.
Album title: Barrett
Artist: Syd Barrett
Nationality: English
Label: Harvest
Chronology: Second and final
The Trollheart Factor: 3
Landmark value: As the final album to come from the co-founder of Pink Floyd it has to have some historical significance, but the story behind the album seems to be one of worried and concerned friends trying to help someone they know is on a road to nowhere. Tragic, really, more than any sort of real landmark in music. Perhaps a “what if” or “if only” sort of thing. Sad.
Tracklisting: Baby Lemonade/Love Song/Dominoes/It Is Obvious/Rats/Maisie/Gigolo Aunt/Waving My Arms in the Air/I Never Lied to You/Wined and Dined/Wolfpack/Effervescing Elephant
Comments: I thought that was a really nice guitar intro, but I read that it was only Syd tuning his guitar before recording the album, and that Gilmour decided to tape it and add it onto the beginning of the album as a kind of intro. Nice though, and shows that, no matter what else you may think or say of him, Barrett could play the guitar. “Baby Lemonade” when it gets going is again a fairly Beatlesesque folky song, some nice guitar work sure but not what I could call prog by any stretch. I also don’t think he was much of a singer: voice seems a little forced and raw, at least here. “Love Song” I just find dreary, plodding and boring, while “Dominoes” is more of the same, though there’s a nice organ line from Richard Wright and what sounds like sax though none is credited.
In fairness, it’s not too bad, with some nice ideas including some sort of attempt to, I don’t know, French it up somehow? Lovely piece of Fender Rhodes there gives the ending an almost Floydish feel, but it’s telling that I only start to appreciate the song once Syd stops singing. I find his vocals very laconic, boring and basically disinterested, which ties in with the impression those who worked with him seemed to get. I’d venture to say that without Wright and Gilmour adding the colour here, this album would be very dull and ordinary indeed. The songwriting’s really not up to much, in my opinion, and the whole atmosphere is of someone going through the motions, as if Barrett has recorded ten albums by now and is only fulfilling a contractual obligation, rather than trying to launch his solo career. In short, he sounds like he doesn’t care.
And if he doesn’t why should I?
Again, it’s the keys of Rick Wright that are the heart and soul of this album, and without them it’s bland and uninteresting. “Rats”’s guitar riff reminds me of “Mrs. Robinson”, kind of a jam in ways, whiel “Maisie” is a slow blues grinder in the style maybe of Muddy Waters or Howlin’ Wolf. To be fair, Syd’s vocal here is decent, he almost sounds interested in the song, and it could be one of the few standouts. “Gigolo Aunt”, on the other hand, goes back to the Kinks/Beatles pastiche Barrett seems to employ so much on this and his other album, a faster, sort of striding number which has a certain sense of catchiness about it and some fine guitar. “Waving My Arms in the Air” is nothing to get excited about, and segues into “I Never Lied to You”, which takes some real liberties with melody.
That leaves us with three tracks, and “Wined and Dined” is again firmly rooted in the sixties counter-culture, think maybe Donovan or someone, I don’t know. Wright’s organ pulls the track along again, almost against resistance, and on into “Wolfpack”, which feels a little to me like a man reeling around drunk, without any real idea what direction he’s going. Apparently it was one of his favourite songs. Not sure what to say about that. The album then closes on the appropriately weirdly-titled “Effervescing Elephant” (um, yeah) which, well, uses perhaps the most obvious instrument possible, a tuba. Meh.
Favourite track(s): Dominoes/Maisie/Gigolo Aunt
Least favourite track(s): Pretty much everything else
Overall impression: Look, again it’s not the worst album I’ve ever heard, and given Barrett’s temperament and general reaction to, well, the world, it’s maybe amazing that he even managed to get two albums recorded before he gave it all up, but I don’t feel like I’ve been losing out by not having heard either of these before. Give him credit, the man could play guitar and had some great ideas but he just wasn’t one to either take direction or advise others how to follow him, with the result that everything here, as on the debut, comes across as a kind of struggle, a tug-of-war between the, shall we say, serious musicians who wanted to make the album and Syd, who didn’t really seem that bothered.
This is the man, remember, who after playing four songs at his only live gig, took off his guitar and walked off stage. It’s no surprise that his albums didn’t catch the imagination or sell well at all. Perhaps, had Floyd been better known in 1970 he might have had a better chance of riding thier coat-tails, but as it was I can see most of the record-buying public ignoring this album as someone they didn’t know. Perhaps Floyd fans bought it, or, given the problems Syd had caused within the band, maybe a minor backlash caused sales to stall as fans refused to buy it. Who knows? What we do know is that Syd never recorded again under his own name, though he tried a few odd ventures, and then retired into virtual obscurity, becoming a recluse until his death in 2006, taking a keen interest in painting and gardening.
Perhaps then, in the end, it’s appropriate that his second and last album ended here, where he appears to have been more comfortable existing.
Personal Rating: