WOULDN'T YOU MISS ME?

Now THIS is how you make a compilation! Containing healthy doses of the best of Syd's debut and sophomore albums, and as well as a few from Opel, "Wouldn't You Miss Me?" is an excellent addition to anyone's music collection, whether you are familiar with Syd Barrett's musical catalogue or are just discovering it. 3.5/5 stars really

Besides getting 22 tracks and close to 71 minutes of Barrett music, you are also treated to a few rarities. Barrett rarities are pure gold to his obsessed fan base. For the purposes of this review, I'll just comment on the three rare tracks found on this compilation, as the remaining tunes can all be found on Syd's main studio albums.

'Two of a Kind': Recorded live for the BBC in 1970 (and also available on both 'The Peel Sessions' and 'The Radio One Sessions') this is a great acoustic guitar and percussion piece from Syd. Sharp vocals, good rhythm guitar, overall an above average Syd tune.

'Bob Dylan Blues': A direct to stereo demo recording for David Gilmour (and offered by Gilmour for this compilation specifically), this song is easily a masterpiece of musical creativity. Quite possibly the first recorded instance of 'dissing' (putting down another artist) in the music industry, Syd wrote a satirical song about good ol' Mr. Zimmerman. Echoing Lennon and Dylan himself with simple acoustic guitar, biting almost poetic lyrics (lots of puns, alliteration and double entendres), and Syd's easily delivered vocals make this tune quite catchy. "I'm a poet, don't you know it, And the wind, you can blow it..."

'Golden Hair' (Instrumental): A short, instrumental alternate version of the original.

Very good collection of arguably the best moments of Barrett's solo career and a great introduction to it! With genuine small masterpieces like "Octopus", "Terrapin", "Golden Hair", "Dominoes", "Gigolo Aunt" or the title song, this compilation is a great companion to FLOYD's "Piper" album and shows how big creative potential was unearthed from the notorious freaky genius of psychedelic rock. Digital remaster is excellent with crystal clear sound and informative booklet. Highly recommended to any psych/space rock fan and to prog collection in general.

I'm a late convert to the cult of Syd Barrett, the fabled crazy diamond who gave PINK FLOYD its name, and the ghost haunting almost every subsequent album the band ever recorded. His brief, troubled post-Floyd solo career needs no introduction here, but for anyone unfamiliar with Barrett's unique psychedelic vision (a blend of instinctive musical genius and acid-ravaged mental illness) this may be the best one-stop, single disc primer available.

The generous 22-track selection is drawn more or less equally from his two completed solo releases and the aborted sessions later compiled on the belated 1989 "Opal" album, and may surprise listeners who never delved too deep into Pink Floyd's back catalogue. On his own, Barrett's music is even more intimate and personal than his signature songs on "The Piper at the Gates of Dawn" (the Floyd's 1967 debut disc), built around simple, unadorned acoustic guitar ballads, with modest instrumental backing provided by various sympathetic friends, chiefly Barrett's ex-band mates and members of SOFT MACHINE.

We can thank all of them for making the music here sound as coherent as it does, after coaxing (with what must have been superhuman patience and understanding) a semblance of a genuine performance from the rapidly disintegrating Barrett. Still, it's not impossible to gauge the singer's fragile state of mind from the way each song begins and ends in a somewhat arbitrary (and occasionally downright ragged) fashion.

A lot of the tunes were obviously written before Syd went supernova and collapsed into his post-Floyd black hole, and reveal something of his once-magnetic charm and playful pre-LSD personality. It's hard not to smile when hearing the deprecating humor of "Here I Go", or the Kipling burlesque of "Effervescing Elephant", or the tongue-in- cheek satire of the previously unreleased "Bob Dylan Blues". The latter is an album highlight, with Barrett (out of professional jealousy?) ripping through the folk hero's homespun superstar hypocrisies in a note-perfect parody of the Dylan song style.

But elsewhere Barrett's whimsical imagination is uneasily matched to his sometimes heart-wrenching, near-naked lyrical candor, giving even his lightest flights of fancy an undercurrent of indefinable sadness. In particular on the song "Opal", the jewel (no pun intended) of this collection, and one of the clearest views Barrett ever allowed us into his battered psyche. The song sounds almost as if it was improvised on the spot, just Syd by himself strumming his acoustic guitar, the evocative, otherworldly imagery of his words gradually giving way to a haunting, plaintive refrain of, "I'm trying...to find you..."

Could he have been talking about himself?