July 10, 2012

Syd Barrett - Bob Dylan Blues (1970)

Born in 1946, this man was the original frontman for the legendary group Pink Floyd. Not only did he start the group in 1965, but he was also the group’s primary songwriter, lead vocalist, and lead guitarist for their first few years. Pink Floyd’s early sound was psychedelic primarily because of his imagination. Sadly, years of drug use aided his mental health to deteriorate and he left the group in April 1968. After a couple solo albums, he decided to leave the public eye permanently and put himself in a self-imposed seclusion. Pink Floyd, without him, would go on to enormous success and recorded several tributes to him, most notably their 1975 album Wish You Were Here. On July 7th, 2006, after more than thirty years of seclusion, he fell victim to his pancreatic cancer and died in his home in Cambridge.

In 1964, Bob Dylan released “My Back Pages,” which mocked his own early political image. (You can hear The Byrds’ cover version of the song here.) But before Dylan was able to mock himself, Barrett had beaten him to the punch with this song. Written in 1963 after Barrett had seen Dylan in concert, this song both gently lampoons Dylan’s early political persona as well as pays an honoring tribute to him. Coming out of David Gilmour’s personal collection for the album The Best of Syd Barrett: Wouldn't You Miss Me? released in 2001, it was originally recorded in 1970.

album art

Syd Barrett - Bob Dylan Blues (1970)

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Lyrics:

Got the Bob Dylan blues
And the Bob Dylan shoes
And my clothes and my hair's in a mess
But, you know, I just couldn't care less

Gonna write me a song
'bout what's right and what's wrong
Got God and my girl and all that
Quiet while I make like a cat

‘cause I'm a poet, don’t’cha know it?
And the wind? You can blow it
‘cause I'm Mr. Dylan, the king
And I'm free as a bird on the wing

Roam from town to town
Guess I get people down
But I don't care too much about that
‘cause my gut and my wallet are fat

Make a whole lot of dough
But I deserve it, though
I got soul and a good heart of gold
So I'll sing about war in the Cold

‘cause I'm a poet, don’t’cha know it?
And the wind? You can blow it
‘cause I'm Mr. Dylan, the king
And I'm free as a bird on the wing

Well I sings about dreams
And I rhymes it with seams
‘cause it seems that my dream always means
That I can prophesy all kinds of things

Well the guy that digs me
Should try hard to see
That he buys all my discs in a hat
And when I'm in town, go see that

‘cause I'm a poet, don’t’cha know it?
And the wind? You can blow it
‘cause I'm Mr. Dylan, the king
And I'm free as a bird on the wing

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