OK, I’m used to cinemas being manned by a skeleton crew, but when I went to see Have You Got It Yet?, the new documentary about Syd Barrett at the Screen on the Green, Islington, I literally walked in off the street. Had I kept my head down, I probably could have watched it for free, and stayed around for Guardians of the Galaxy while I was at it.
If this film has a point, it seems to be to move the Barrett narrative away from lurid acid-casualty rock star tale and even slightly away from his mental health struggles. Instead we get a fond and whimsical portrait of an artist who never liked to repeat himself, so was simply not suited to being in a band.
The main thing that comes across is how remarkably well preserved Syd’s Cambridge contemporaries are, particularly his girlfriends, testimony, I guess, to the rejuvenating balm of a life of upper middle-class privilege. That’s apart from the contributors who are dead, of course. Sadly, this film spent so long coming to fruition that many of its talking heads are no longer with us (nor is Storm Thorgerson, the man asking most of the questions).
For the Floyd heads, the most noteworthy sections are a previously unseen performance of See Emily Play on Top of the Pops, and some extended footage from the UFO club. That may have been seen before, but not with Pete Townshend describing how he skived a Who gig to go there, and explaining how he thinks they got their sound, which he describes as “psychedelic heavy metal”. We also see a couple more grainy stills from the time Syd turned up at Abbey Road while the band were recording Wish You Were Here, cementing his reputation as rock’s biggest burnout.
There is not much else to be gleaned of Syd’s long 70s and 80s stretch as a recluse in Chelsea and Cambridge. His music publisher reveals that he should have been bringing in £2m a year in this period, and had a whole other flat for his guitars, but his sister recalls him turning up on her doorstep completely penniless. There’s no mention of his later stints in residential mental health wards, as detailed in Rob Chapman’s book A Very Irregular Head.
The most insightful comment comes from his artist neighbour Duggie Fields who laments that his friend went from being Syd back to being Roger but “wasn’t happy as either”. Many other contemporaries seem to regard Syd’s decline as echoing the death of their own 60s optimism. That’s even more poignant when you realise how many have left us altogether since making that observation (Fields, Mick Rock, Peter Whitehead) Unsurprisingly, Syd’s old bandmate Roger Waters can’t resist making it about him by tearing us to a hammy rendition of the lyrics to Shine on You Crazy Diamond, while there is a tear and more than a flicker of survivor’s guilt from David Gilmour who reflects that maybe he could have tried harder to see Syd in his lost years.
From that time, we get a few photos of the middle-aged Roger/Syd pottering around Cambridge in his vest, an ill-fitting suit, or most alarmingly, a wax jacket. Such shots used to be rare and considered in poor taste. That Thorgerson has chosen to present them here shows again how the film-makers have tried to normalise Syd’s story and suggest that he ended up where he did through some degree of choice. Nick Kent’s breathless stories in NME may have kept Syd’s legacy alive, but along with Chapman’s book, this is a genuine and heartfelt attempt to colour in the details.
Thanks Martin, am very much looking forward to seeing this. This evening Waters’ concert from Prague is being broadcast live to cinemas around the world, including my local. I plan to go along. Though that plan could change, for I am unpredictable in my laziness.
I took one look at his inflatable pig with its Star of David next to bank logos and the Wall’s marching hammers and thought I’d give it a miss. The show does look spectacular but I’m afraid he’s become the narcissist demagogue he set out to parody.
Yep, totally fair enough. Polly Samson’s description of him is probably accurate. He certainly strikes me as a complete loon. But I still like his music. I thought The Lockdown Sessions was excellent.
He deserves a certain amount of credit for keeping an interesting career afloat. Around the time of leaving Pink Floyd he was doing theatres while they’d be in the stadium down the road. Now he can play in arenas anywhere in the world, and his bands and their arrangements of Floyd tunes are consistently interesting.
One noticeable thing about the clips I’ve seen is the young age of his audience. They mostly seem in their 20s and 30s.
@martin-horsfield
I didn’t go to the film in the end. Too lazy. But I see the tour has stirred up all sorts of controversy in Germany, where he’s reportedly being investigated for dressing up in an SS uniform! Presumably they’ll have to also investigate Bob Geldof for playing exactly the same character in the 1982 film version.
I thought his putting a Star of David on an inflatable pig was seriously ugly provocation and there are many other valid reasons to criticise Waters, but accusing him of wearing a nazi uniform is just ridiculous nonsense.
https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/news/roger-waters-berlin-nazi-ss-uniform-police-b2346259.html
For anyone interested, Waters live in discussion now:
Pink Floyd’s Roger Waters and journalists Katie Halper and Asa Winstanley come together to discuss Winstanley’s new book on the Israel lobby’s role in undermining the UK’s former Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn and his anti-war foreign policy.
I recently heard a long podcast with John Leckie. He said he never saw Syd take anything stronger than tea, but that he wasn’t cut out for, well, life.
When Syd turned up at Abbey Road during WYWH (only a couple of years after the Barrett album), he didn’t recognise him.
The band didn’t recognise him (at first)
I went to this in 2008 fascinating that he would paint then photograph the work then burn it.
https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/art/features/syd-barrett-s-inner-visions-962512.html
I find that £2M a year royalties in the 70s/80s quote interesting. Surely they didn’t sell that many copies of A Nice Pair or Relics, never mind the 2 solo albums, in that period, since as far as I can recall those would’ve been the only sources of Syd material at that time.
I think the band may have sent him a share of their income. Not sure