The Crazy Diamond's Signature

In 1967, while Pink Floyd were about to release their debut, the name Syd Barrett was already circulating as one of the most eccentric and promising figures on the London scene. Two singles, "Arnold Layne" and "See Emily Play", had already made it onto the charts. Around that same time, the music weekly Melody Maker gave him a column reviewing newly released singles: an assignment the Crazy Diamond made entirely his own, often proving unpredictable, blending irony, sarcasm and flashes of insight.

Among the tracks Barrett reviewed at the time was one written by a young David Bowie, still far from stardom. The song in question was "Love You Till Tuesday", included on his self-titled 1967 debut: a light, theatrical pop tune that failed to leave any mark on the British charts. Barrett dismissed it with a mix of amusement and detachment, essentially calling it a divertissement: "Jokes are a good thing. Everyone likes them. Even Pink Floyd like jokes. It's a very casual track. If you listen to it a second time, it might seem even funnier." The review went on: "I think people will like the bit about Monday when it was actually Tuesday. Very lively, but I wouldn't say it made me tap my foot…"

Good old Syd wasn't entirely wrong. The Bowie of the self-titled debut album, released by Deram in June 1967, was a talented but still-green songwriter, far removed from two near-contemporary London colleagues like Cat Stevens and Al Stewart, who were also debuting around the same period. He was "all over the place", as sound engineer Gus Dudgeon put it: drawing from everywhere at once without managing to settle on a coherent, recognizable style, his delivery somewhat clownish and close to the theatrical manner of actor Anthony Newley.

The rest of Syd's reviews from that period only confirmed this vaguely sardonic and unpredictable approach. Barrett could praise a posthumous single by Jim Reeves, calling it "crazy" yet still enjoyable, only to tear into other artists without hesitation: from the Blues Magoos, dismissed with little enthusiasm, to a Tom Jones track that, in his view, would have worked better played backwards given its excessive melodrama. Even harsher was his rejection of Barry Fantoni's "Nothing Today", which he simply judged "negative".

But despite that less-than-flattering verdict from Barrett, Bowie would go on to develop genuine admiration over the years for Pink Floyd's first frontman. He revealed more than once how deeply Barrett's songwriting had struck him, highlighting its visionary nature and that elusive, almost childlike quality he associated with a "Peter Pan-like" charm.

The influence didn't stay purely theoretical. Bowie covered "See Emily Play" in 1973 and, many years later, shared the stage with David Gilmour to perform "Arnold Layne", both songs written by Barrett. After Barrett's death in 2006, Bowie called him a decisive influence on his own artistic formation, one of the most original songwriters of his generation, capable of redefining the language of British pop: "He was so charismatic, a remarkably original songwriter. Along with Anthony Newley, he was also the first person I ever heard sing pop or rock with a British accent. His impact on the way I think has been huge. One of my greatest regrets is never having met him. A true diamond."

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12/04/2026