
The David Bowie song Syd Barrett called a funny joke: “It’s very casual”
Despite Syd Barrett only fronting Pink Floyd for a brief stint, his contributions no doubt supercharged them into the limelight and established them as psychedelic ringleaders in the counterculture movement. David Gilmour may have provided the guidance they needed to develop as musicians, but Barrett’s whimsical concepts and lyricism provided all they needed to truly stand apart.
Despite the success of their latter years, Barrett possessed everything the band could have ever wanted in a frontman during those crucial early years. Although far less complex and innovative than the Gilmour era, Barrett adopted a certain playful approach to psychedelic rock, with an otherworldly mindset that later inspired outsider innovators like David Bowie.
Bowie cited Barrett as a significant influence on numerous occasions, which isn’t too difficult to believe considering the musician’s appreciation of those who broke the mould, even when the industry seemed to be heading in a completely different direction. For many, Bowie signified the first real change in the space, where androgynous sexual flamboyance suddenly became a celebrated facet of musical artistry.
While Barrett didn’t exhibit the same disposition, he did stand out as an unconventional character, which is what Pink Floyd needed at the time to make it in an increasingly prolific rock arena. With acts like The Beatles and The Rolling Stones setting the bar, countless others saw this as an opportunity to try their hand at becoming the next best thing.
When the counterculture movement burgeoned, Barrett emerged in artistic defiance, placing focus on the value of experimentalism with a charismatic edge. For this reason and many others, it was often difficult to read Barrett, who, in interviews, exuded the type of verbal and physical ambiguity that made it difficult to pinpoint when he was being serious and when he was being provocative.

One instance occurred when he reviewed Bowie’s ‘Love You Till Tuesday’ and described it as “a joke number”. Rambling about his experience listening to the song, he said: “It’s a joke number. Jokes are good. Everybody likes jokes, Pink Floyd likes jokes.”
He continued, “It’s very casual. If you play it a second time it might be even more of a joke. Jokes are great, I think that was a funny joke. I think people will like the bit about it being Monday when in fact it was. Tuesday. Very chirpy but I don’t think my toes were tapping at all.”
Although slightly odd, it’s likely Bowie enjoyed this analysis, considering he himself had an affinity for not giving away too much by sitting at the intersection between conscientiousness and playfulness. But the ‘Starman’ also appreciated Barrett for his stark originality, which was hard to come by in an age filled with so many half-baked rock ‘n’ roll impersonators and amateurs.
Discussing his artistry, he once described the late musician as “a major inspiration” who was “so charismatic and such a startlingly original songwriter.”
He added: “His impact on my thinking was enormous. A major regret is that I never got to know him. A diamond indeed.”
Standing in direct opposition to what was expected, Barrett influenced a young Bowie to express himself in ways others felt too outlandish, a choice which ultimately saw him flourish into one of the biggest and best artistic visionaries in history.