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  • Writer's picturerobertsavela

On roads with Syd Barrett and early Pink Floyd





A path here a path there, her wings to fly mentally and tears wept. Ride a bike physically no need to force it down-by-the-river-rabbit-hole feeling. It takes two perceptions out on the shores of the great lakes picking rocks where she pleases and polishing them, keeping ‘em like diamonds calling from the deep.

Avoid repetition with the love chords reassembled. Sometimes boredom ambience seduces us like dumb factory work on and on and on so you need some variation which could be confusing. Rearrange the mind-moving and summon the soul need no indulgence. Secular individualism needed to choose at the fork in the road between the growth way of endless sleep or the challenging way of timeless sensory life like an arrow. Ninety-year-old young at heart fight the blue and drive the vehicle lime green second scene on the road. Road trip fairytale-artistry-training through the mountains and the Dakotas not much there Montana too. No repetition, a political statement watching the nature and Jupiter and sonic titan stars and flames and truck stops stop cause we’re strung out no-other-day-another-way from the road. The grid grab a meal immediate human detail and a nice coffee, pie too. Locals always looking sound so be careful for stalkers and guns and meanness in your face by codes in language at those off the path diners. A challenge not easily analyzed but they are outsiders of art lose-your-mind folk art just put stuff together with what they have. Find a way as the visual bias declines.

Barrett and a guitar in sorrow and a voice and liquids don’t need other stuff just simply living elementary experience and communicating authentically decipher the riddle of a mirror and “Astronomy Domine.” Progressive psych-folk deviation gnome rock need space outer space. Alien birds see through baby blue with old time harmonies of repressed purity. Party of clowns up and down outer ways and inner thoughts like childhood awareness absorb. Colored lights like a ghost circular and gooey fire dance and lava midnight air and falling-onto-planets tunnel movement and earth human golden hair feeling living consciousness for some years only where do we go after earth. Hey Emily, (she’s a good mouse) hey, you got an answer?

Psychedelic guitar-focus cubist perspective wispy throat instrument with original space rock elements some rhyme, some chime gathered in cohesion for a beat party the beat down here a man there a man bohemian style. New wave playful pattern achieved in the ‘60s and ‘70s sun rock a little dusk horizon stuff never done before. Slight variation-spice status quo and they say everything has been done before. On the road don’t stop need to get everything out of your system like a mermaid made dangerous. Be ready for the next life aliens and dimensions and monoliths and planes please, please, a doorway…





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