March 27, 1997
There are three Pink Floyds. There's the one most of us are familiar with, the "Comfortably Numb" and "Money" Floyd with Roger Waters at the helm; the most recent incarnation of watered down easy listening self-parody that David Gimour has created; and then there's the other version - the first and relatively unknown Floyd.
Before Gilmour was brought on to replace him, Floyd was created by the singularly talented Syd Barrett. This debut album was the only one to feature Barrett; he suffered a mental breakdown after its release and Floyd was left to uncharted Waters. The Piper at the Gates of Dawn is a kind of chronicle of this breakdown. Barrett ate enough acid to put Timothy Leary to shame - seems he went on a trip and never came back. He is the "Crazy Diamond" in Waters' song of the same name.
But before he went on hiatus from reality, Barrett was an innovative and skilled guitarist and songwriter, and his acid-drenched technique makes Piper a fascinating, electric psychedelic thrill ride. Barrett's childish sensibilities and chemical inclinations make Piper sound like Sesame Street on white blotter. Happy little sing-song pop ditties like "The Gnome" and "Flaming" are backed by the riff-laden feedback and spaced out noise of "Astronomy Domine" and "Interstellar Overdrive".
There's pure strychnine weirdness too, in the form of "Pow R. Toc H." and "Take Up Thy Stethoscope and Walk", but it's not unlistenable. If anything, the metronomic oddness of it all gives Piper an unselfconscious charm that is nothing like Pink Floyd's later work. The Piper at the Gates of Dawn is a lot like acid itself - if you fight it you have an awful trip, but if you just give in and go along for the bizarre ride, it can be a hell of a good time.
- Jared O'Connor
Sesame Street on acid