#pink floyd early years

[anycolouryoulike2]

California 1967

[asurrogateblog]

Do you rec any pink floyd books? i want to know about all the weird homosexual stuff roger did in his dictator era

hello!

I absolutely have recommendations, although I'd say that for the most part, roger was (unfortunately) far too distracted by starring in his own personal high-concept psychological horror movie to get up to much homosexual behavior. maybe that would've fixed him

I have two main recs:

Inside Out: A Personal History of Pink Floyd by Nick Mason

Nick's book is literally laugh-out-loud funny. He has such a dry sense of humor about all of it, and that makes it such an enjoyable read. Obviously it's a little biased, since he is and was roger's best friend, but he never holds back from making fun of him. It's great

Comfortably Numb: The Inside Story of Pink Floyd by Mark Blake

This book is a little more objective, and is a more official history. It has a ton of great anecdotes that nick doesn't include, and brings up topics that the rest of the band has avoided discussing (i.e., the coke bender of '87). It's really well-written and informative

I have pdfs of both of these, so if you don't want to buy physical copies, let me know if you want them!

[chirpychipslive]

60s pink floyd singles: the scobbly bomble went up the market to buy 3 eggs >_< and big mean Mr Freen took all the bombles frumple coin!!

paintbox:

[mishalikessoundsandcolours]

I found an 11 minute long live version of Pow R. Toc H. My life is now complete

[marcogiovenale]

pink floyd's early years: video footage 1967-1972

[sh4gadel1c]

HE LOOKS LIKE A DORK<33

Roger Waters  The Tea Set at a private party in Oxshott, Surrey, October 1964. Photos by Sebastian Jenkins.

[charlott2n]

i had such a passion for 60s/early 70s psychedelic prog when i was 19 i miss being obsessed with procol harum and the moody blues and soft machine and van der graaf and pink floyd and yes and caravan and gong and camel and colosseum and hawkwind and aphrodites child oh my god i wish i could return. i can NOT believe its been five years. if the news had come over that wed have five years left to cry in Then wed all be dead Now. its so bad. anyway musicpost

[veritas-scribblings]

1. things we carry | words: 1,993 | platonic prongsfoot | [next part -> early morning ]

(December, 1980)

Sirius had moved out of the Potter’s home two months after they graduated. He had found a run-down little muggle apartment in the heart of London. It’s small—almost shoe-box small—rather more than a little bit damp, and there are bits and pieces of it which seem to be peeling off or crumbling away. It’s rock and roll, Sirius says. It’s bohemian. He’s an artist (an ‘artiste’, because Sirius always says it with a flair).

And now James is worried. It’s not that Sirius is incapable, because he’s very much capable. He has an almost anal retentive need for orderliness and control; a side effect, James thinks, of being raised in the House of Black. It’s just that Sirius’s level of self-care always reflects the state of his mental health, and James hasn’t heard from Sirius in almost two weeks.

It’s nearly Christmas now. These days, Sirius has mixed feelings about Christmas. The first year Sirius had moved in with them, Christmas had been…mostly…wonderful. It was the year that James’s little family of three had become a family of four. His parents had doted upon Sirius ("Sirius deserves all the love," they had said). Sirius had received more presents and more hugs and more food than James had, and had quite smugly rubbed in James’s face that he was now the "favourite son".

They had for a while ignored the fact that Sirius had been fleeing so far and so fast from his feelings that the feelings may as well have been a runaway train. "Don’t ruin the holiday for him," Effie had said. "There’ll be enough time to deal with this afterwards."

But James had been worried then. And James is worried now. It’s his "mother bear tendencies", Effie calls them. His need to take care of and fix everything.

James unlocks Sirius’s apartment door with his spare key and pushes his way inside. The apartment, on the second floor, is small and cluttered. There are posters of Fleetwood Mac and Pink Floyd pinned to the wall. Vinyl records lining the shelves. Sirius has brought his motorcycle inside because he worries about it getting stolen and doesn’t want an unsuspecting muggle thief getting themselves hexed by the security spells.

It’s cluttered, but everything has a place. Over the years, James learnt this the hard way through accidentally moving something and incurring the wrath of one anally retentive Sirius Black.

"Mum packed you a care package." James dumps a bag on the kitchen bench. "There’s chana masala. Chapati. Um, some other stuff…Mum made achappam, Dad made mince pies and gingerbread, I think."

James trails off, staring around. It’s eerily quiet in the space. There’s normally always music playing, like Sirius’s life is one long dance party. But now, the record player is off and Sirius is curled up on the couch with what looks suspiciously like a glass of whiskey.

"Say thank you for me," Sirius grunts. He’s still staring out the window through the half-open curtains, but he waves a hand of acknowledgement around.

"Sure." James drops himself on the empty armrest, which sags underneath him. There’s an open sketchbook on the coffee table between them. When he tries to take a peek, Sirius suddenly seems to properly register his presence and quickly slams it shut.

"Right. So. Christmas lunch. You’ll come over Christmas Eve, like usual. Stay the night. Presents in the morning. There’s a huge pile under the tree for you. Between the two of us, I think we can convince Mum to make appam…" At Sirius’s look, James raises an eyebrow and adds, "You really want to argue with Mum about all this? She’s worried about you, you know. We’re all worried about you." He trails off, leaves the thought hanging, hoping that Sirius will read between the lines, understand everything he’s leaving unsaid. Mainly because James doesn’t fancy having Sirius figuratively punch him in the face with a deadly Black glare. 

Last year, Sirius had put on a show for them over Christmas—the ‘artiste’ he is—all smiles and laughs and sweet talk. But there had been darkness in-between. Irritability and snappishness. He’d picked a fight with James. Drank a little bit too much. Said a little bit too much. Flirted a little bit too much.

So now, in anticipation of a spiral, James is here on his mother’s orders (though he initially hadn’t wanted to "poke the sleeping dragon", as Fleamont would say). But James is his best friend. His "brother in arms". So, cautiously, James enters his territory prepared to have his head bitten off.

"Me?" Sirius scoffs and drains his glass. "Why ever would you be worried? I’m perfect. Immaculate. Flawless, even. Just ask your mum."

"Mum thinks you’re a terror."

"Lies! Utter lies. You’re just jealous that I’m a better son." Sirius gestures across the room. "Proof positive. She sends me packages of love. Don’t see her sending you packages of love."

"What?" James squarks. "I live with her, you absolute idiot."

"Irrelevant." Sirius dumps his glass on top of his sketchbook and draws his knees to his chest. "I have chapatis of love and mince pies of love. Pretty sure that means they like me more."

It’s a misdirect. A distraction, James is sure, because Sirius is allergic to emotions. They fall into a brief, uncomfortable silence. Sirius picks at the couch fabric, which is already worn from what is likely years of use.

He’d found the couch on the side of the road and had rounded up James, Remus and Peter to help him drag it inside. At the time, James had been absolutely disgusted with the idea of sitting on someone’s used and discarded furniture, and disdainful about the idea of having to lug it up the stairs the muggle way.

Sirius had just called it, wistfully, "bohemian". "It’s a muggle apartment building," he had said. "Can’t go floating couches around." It’s the same excuse he uses for the dampness and the flickering lights and lack of proper heating and the paint peeling off the walls. Apparently he can’t go and just fix things using magic. People would notice, he says.

Sirius had originally been so optimistic about doing the place up and making it his own, but now James fears he might just be punishing himself.

"You know," James hedges, leaning forwards to peer at Sirius cautiously. Sirius has turned away and is once again staring out the window. "You could…write to him? It would be a start? It’s Christmas. Christmas is about family, I’m sure he would want to hear from you. Just…you know…a ‘Happy Christmas’ card. An ‘I’m thinking of you’ card.”

Sirius leaps to his feet so suddenly that it startles James. He tugs his sketchbook from under the glass tumbler, sending it toppling to the ground with a thud. “Right. I’m going to go and shower.”

“I’m just saying. He wants to talk to you too. I know he does.”

“Oh, does he,” Sirius says sceptically. “That’s why, the last time he was anywhere near me, he couldn’t get away fast enough.”

“Well…”

Sirius rolls his eyes and shoves past James. “Just leave it,” his voice is low, dangerous. A warning sign to back away. He turns the record player on and ‘Stairway To Heaven’ begins to play. 

This is Sirius saying he is done listening, James knows. He should leave well enough alone. But he never does. Never has. He’ll poke the sleeping dragon, as his father would say.

“Alright. Fine. I’m just saying, I believe he does. Deep down.”

“Deep, deep down.”

“Someone just…you know…needs to make the first move. Look, I know the shit your parents pulled, and it wasn’t fair. No—no, hear me out! They’re gone. I think it would help you…it would help the both of you if you just…talked!”

Sirius storms across the room and flings his bedroom door open so violently it slams against the wall and swings back towards him, sending him stumbling backwards. “Just fucking leave it, James! It’s actually none of your business. You can…door’s that way, if you’re lost or something.”

He says “James” with a vehemence and venom that James hasn’t heard in years. Normally it’s “Prongs” this or “Lover Boy” that or whatever sobriquet Sirius is feeling at the time. The “James” hits James square in the chest and winds him.

Through the bedroom, the shower is running as Sirius bashes around. James lingers on the couch, uncertain as to whether to leave, uncertain as to whether he needs to intervene. Whether Sirius is going to try and drown himself in the shower.

Sirius is too proud to “make the first move”, James knows. He is more inclined to ignore the hippogriff in the room. Sirius Black does not meet people halfway. He does not compromise. He doesn’t grovel. He rarely apologises, and when he does, it’s with great reluctance and resentment. Like the words have been forced from his mouth against his will. It’s a Black family trait, one of the many traits passed down through the family line. And one they tried so many times to work through when they were younger.

And the trouble is: Regulus Black is also far too proud to ‘make the first move’. He’s more proud than Sirius, if that is even possible. After all, he spent longer in the House of Black.

And, perhaps, therein lies the problem.

Two years ago, five days after Christmas, Walburga and Orion Black were entombed in the family mausoleum in Lincolnshire. Almost the entire pureblood community had turned out for the funeral ceremony, which had been arranged by one Cygnus Black. It was a sombre affair. Grand. Elaborate. Befitting the House of Black, the Daily Prophet reported.

James wouldn’t know much about it. He had not attended. He had sat on the threadbare couch in Sirius’s apartment and listened to the entirety of Led Zeppelin’s fourth album on repeat. It was not the wisest of decisions, his mother had said to James later on, for Sirius to miss the funeral. Not while he was currently under investigation.

But Sirius could not be convinced otherwise. He had been adamant that he would not attend.

And Sirius Black could never be made to do something he did not wish to do.

It had taken months, until after the investigation had officially closed and Walburga and Orion Blacks’ deaths had ultimately been ruled an accident, for Sirius to eventually visit their tomb. Sirius had been roaringly drunk at the time and had driven himself to the mausoleum in the dark and the rain. Because he had rationalised that it would be safer than trying to apparate. Damn near crashed his motorcycle, he would admit later on.

James had found him screaming at his parents’ plaques, at the spot where they would eventually erect statues. It had taken not a little amount of coaxing to convince Sirius to leave and not destroy the place with a Confringo.

Back then, James had hoped that Walburga and Orion’s deaths would bring Sirius and Regulus closer together. Now, in retrospect, he knows that this was just his naivety. His hopeless optimism. That the universe would just make it happen.

Really, James is not sure he is in any position to orchestrate what he has now come to call the “greatest reunification in wizarding history”. He does not know where Regulus lives. He does not even know whether Regulus is willing to speak to him; he knows at least that Regulus simply refuses to be anywhere within Sirius’s vicinity. 

What James does have faith in is his ability to plan. His ability to be patient. His ability to to play the long game. His ability to co-ordinate and orchestrate. After all, isn’t that what he’d been doing all through Hogwarts?

But maybe that’s just his hopeless optimism.

[bayareabadboy]

Born in the rock 1/6/1946: The late, great Syd Barrett co-founder, guitarist, singer, and songwriter for Pink Floyd. After an extended period of using psychedelics, Syd was seemingly incapable of performing with the band. He was “quietly fired” in early 1968, pursued a solo career that can be described as chaotic, and then spent almost 30 years out of the spotlight. Genius, visionary, recluse.

[anycolouryoulike2]

1967 "See Emily Play" for the 1st time "Top of the Pops"

[simplydannie]

Veneer and Velvet are out of prison, set forth to start a new life... with a little help from little creatures of course. As days go by Veneer finds himself being pushed aside.... And slowly forgotten.

The twins opened the doors to their new apartment.

“Uggghh…” Velvet scoffed, “It’s soooooo small.”

“Well, what did you expect? A fanfare welcome for what after we did?” Veneer brushed past her, placing his luggage on the floor, his hands on his hips, “This honestly isn’t too bad Vels! It could’ve been worse in your opinion…”

“What’s worse than rotting away for almost a year in prison, Veneer?” Velvet tossed her luggage aside and plopped herself on the couch.

“...Getting sent back to the under-city.”

“.....Touche. God, I hope he doesn’t come looking for us.” She sat up and made her way up the stairs.

Veneer bit his lower lip “......Yeah…Yeah sure.” He mumbled following her up the steps.

The apartment was a two bedroom, and one bathroom, “Great. We have to share a bathroom!”

“Girl, calm down, we’ve done it before.” Veneer couldn’t help but chuckle.

“We were kids. We're not kids anymore. You have stuff I don’t even wanna see!”

“Oh god Vels, grow up. You can have your first turn in the bathroom. There happy?” He walked over to open the doors to the bedrooms.

“I call this one!” Velvet ran into one throwing herself on the bed.

“....Okay? They’re the same size you know.”

“No. This one looks way bigger, so I call it.”

Veneer rolled his eyes. Gathering the few belongings he had, he made his way to the room that would be his…

CRREEEEEKKKK.

Veneer heard something along the floor board make a sound, followed by the patterns of little feet, “Oh please don’t tell me we have rats…” he muttered…

CREEEEEKKKK….

Again the sound. He reached to grab a pillow, holding it over his head as he crept slowly towards the direction of the sound; he could hear small noises behind the dresser, it sounded like voices. Veneer opened the dresser door.

“Oh hey! There you are!” A small Troll looked up at him with a smile.

“AHHHH!!!!” Veneer screamed instinctively slamming the pillow on the small Troll.

“OW! HEY KID! OW! KID! OW! OW! KID IT’S ME!!!!!”

Veneer peered open one eye to stare down at a familiar little face, “Wait- I know you. You’re Floyds brother! Well, one of his brothers.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heck of an arm kid.” He rubbed his head, “John Dory.”

“What are you doing here?”

“We were obviously waiting for you two to arrive?”

“We?” Veneer turned around at the sound of more small pitter patters across the floor board. A small pink haired Troll popping up, followed by familiar dark blue hair, and another tuft of pink hair.

“Hiiii!! We met briefly during the Rage Dome show! I’m Poppy! This Branch, and you obviously know-”

“Floyd!” Veneer happily exclaimed as he ran over to the tiny Troll, picking him up in his arms.

“Hey, Ven. Heard you guys got out early on account of good behaviour.” The Troll smiled.

“It was tough for Velvet, but she managed.” The Rageon smiled, placing the Troll back down with the others, “But- why are you guys here in the first place?”

“Oh right!! Well, we have decided-”

“I think you mean, YOU decided for us Poppy.” Branch crossed his arms.

“Yes, yes, anyways! We have decided to be your life coaches!!” The small pink Troll chimed. Veneer arched his eyebrow, tilting his head.

“Poppy had this idea of helping you guys get back on track. We were impressed by the way you stood your ground Ven, the way you couraged up and admitted everything.” Floyd smiled.

“Veneer! Who in the world are you talking to- Oh you have GOT to be kidding me.” Velvet walked in, crossing her arms, she snarled at the sight of the Trolls, “No. Nuh uh. Whatever you guys got planned, we are DONE with Trolls. Out. Out now.”

“Well, you heard her, she don’t want help.” Branch retorted.

“Oh no, no. You need this most of all, Velvet.” Floyd pointed. “We’re going to be your life coaches. Make proper teenagers out of you two.” Floyd pointed out.

“And who says we want to be proper teenagers in society.”

“Oh come on, Vels. I wanna give this a try! Count me in!” Veneer smiled.

John Dory clapped his hands, “Perfect! Since you two are twins, his vote counts for her vote too.”

“That’s not fair!” Velvet retorted.

…. Veneer was more than happy to receive life lessons from the little Trolls. In reality, he was just happy to mend things with them again, especially Floyd. He wasn't one to really have friends growing up, other than his sister. For some reason, it had always been hard for him… more so when he and his sister were sent up to Mount Rageous when they were nine. Being from the under-city, they really had never fit in, their pale skin having them stand out in front of the rest of them. It was hard, just them against the world.

Then fame happened, suddenly everyone loved them… but he knew it wasn’t for the right reasons, which is why he did what he did. Yeah, he risked his sister hating him, but it was better living in truth than in a lie….

…. Yet, as the days passed with the little Trolls, the more he realized about his truth… he was, well, a nobody. He saw how easily they began to migrate towards his sister’s more vibrant personality. It was only her that they began to coach now really, not him.

“You’re good Veneer! Your sister needs a lot more focus than you do.” They’d exclaim. And that was that. Now where did he hear that before? Oh yeah, with their aunt and uncle they stayed with in Mount Rageous. She was the more ‘troubled’ child according to them… so she’d get the most attention… Their father would never do that… but he wasn’t there was he? So Veneer couldn’t think about that. He began to notice the drift little by little. It began when they focused more on getting her singing career back on track…

“Despite what you did, there’s no doubt about it. You’re a star!” John Dory exclaimed.

“Yeah I know!” Velvet flipped her hair as she stood inside the recording studio. They had her practicing non-stop, and for sure she was improving.

“Uh, John, when can I get a turn?” Veneer swiveled around in a chair within the control room.

“Maybe tomorrow buddy, we really have something going on here.”

“....You say that every time I ask.”

“This time I promise, though okay.”

…. But that promise never came. It never was his turn when it came to sing, to practice. Perhaps his time with music was done? Maybe it really was his sister's turn to shine. He’d find something, he’d find his calling.

The days turned to months, and he only grew lonelier by the second. With this new schedule Velvet had, they never hung out anymore, he attempted something with the Trolls, but they never had time. And when they all agreed to hang out with him, well, they’d forget. His attempt to make friends outside was a hit and miss…

“....I wanna go home…” He began to murmur to himself at night. But he couldn't go home… this was his new home now…

….. “Ven! Wake up!” There was a pounding at his door one morning.

“Ugggghhhh.” He rolled out of bed, his hair sticking out all over the place. “Whhhaaaaattttt.” He opened the door.

“Get dressed, bedhead. The Trolls wanna talk to us about something.” She trotted downstairs.

Talk? About what? Veneer scratched his head making his way to his mirror… that’s when he saw it, the calendar. It was their birthday! They probably had something planned for their birthday! Veneer squealed in delight as he quickly dressed himself up, running downstairs.

“I'm here!!” He slid into the kitchen…nothing. There was nothing. Okay, a little strange, but it was still early.

“Good morning Veneer! We have a special mission for you, well, both of you I guess we can say.” Poppy smiled as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Okay? What?” Velvet arched her eyebrow staring at the small Troll curiously.

“We got a list of orders you need to go pick up.”

“Orders?!” Velvet whined.

“Princess, they're all for you and this new pop idol thing we’re trying to help you with. Least you can do is go pick up the stuff.” Branch crossed his arms handing Veneer the paper.

“...Wow…that’s- that’s a lot of stuff…” Veneer exclaimed, “I guess we go now?”

“Yes, yes! Now shoo!” Poppy practically shoved them out the door. The twins stepped out in silence, a little confused as they blinked to each other.

“Well, while we’re at it, maybe we can stop at Fizzy Freeze for a free sundae!” Veneer chimed.

“Free sundae?”

“Yeah, it’s our birthday, I say we celebrate while we’re out.”

“Veneer, we’re not kids anymore to celebrate by getting free ice cream.”

“Okay then. No free ice cream. How do you wanna celebrate then?”

Velvet stayed silent.

“Come on, sis. Tell me and we’ll do it!!”

“....You want honesty?”

“Of course.”

“....I…don’t want to….celebrate with my brother…”

“....Oh.”

“I mean, we’re kind of too old for that. I’ve finally made friends, Veneer. I was hoping they’d remember and want to celebrate with me…I haven’t even gotten a text from them! It’s just…uggghh. Whatever. Let’s just run these stupid errands.” She marched towards the car. Veneer on the other hand, well, he really hadn’t made any friends yet. All he had were his sister and the Trolls… maybe they’d want to celebrate with him when they got back. For the time being, the twins drove in silence as they went to run errands the Trolls had laid ahead…

It was nearly two hours when they returned, boxes and bags in hand.

“Worst birthday ever.” Velvet muttered as she opened the front door. To their surprise, the whole apartment was dark, “Hello? Guys?” The twins set down the boxes and switched on the light…

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” An echo of voices filled the complex as the Trolls jumped out, an assortment of Rageons the twins age behind them.

“You guys remembered!!!” Velvet ran over to her friends embracing them in a hug.

“Girl, of course we did!” One Rageon girl smiled.

“Those errands were a distraction. Couldn’t have you around while we set up.” Poppy giggled pushing forward a birthday crown for her, “We all thought you deserved this.”

Velvet took the crown in her hands, placing it on her head, “What do you mean?”

The Trolls looked at each other, with a smile on their face, “You’ve made amazing progress…. You’ve really proven to us that you really have what it takes. You have the potential.”

Velvet did her best not to smile at the comment, “Yeah. Whatever.” In her words, it was a thank you.

“Alright, alright! Now that the birthday girl is here, let’s party!!!” One of her male friends cried out…

Veneer stayed back, he read the banner clearly: Happy Birthday, Velvet. He made his way into the kitchen to find the birthday cake. There it was: Happy Birthday, Velvet. He looked in the fridge for anything else, any other cake with his name on it….nothing. Veneer didn’t say a word. He slipped away, knowing they wouldn’t miss his presence. He trotted upstairs quickly grabbing something from his room and then making his way to Velvet’s.

“...Happy birthday, sis.” He smiled, placing a small box by her nightstand. He walked over to his room, hearing the laughter and music downstairs, Veneer closed his door and sat on the floor by his bed, pulling his knees up to his chest…

….they forgot….

Of course, they would’ve forgotten that it was his birthday too… it was like he was nonexistent the past couple of months… Veneer really couldn't take anymore of it. This life was even lonelier than the life of fame he had spent with his sister…. He hated it…

“I want to go home…” He muttered, “....Dad….I want to go back home with you….” The tears started spilling out…

….he felt so, so alone…. So forgotten.

[asurrogateblog]

WHERE is 15 minute arnold layne

[thechanelmuse]

Pink Anderson (1900-1974)

Pink Anderson was a historic figure whose music included Piedmont-style blues, folk music, ragtime, and traditional ballads. He was born in South Carolina and early on sang in the streets for pennies. He was self-taught as a guitarist and toured throughout the Southeast with a variety of medicine shows (including Dr. William R. Kerr's "cure all medicine") during 1915-1945, picking up work wherever he could. He was employed not only as a musician and a singer but as a dancer and comedian.

Anderson recorded four titles in 1928 but did not make another record until Harlem Street Spirituals in 1950 for Riverside. At that time he recorded such traditional folk material as “John Henry,’ ‘The Ship Titanic,” and “Wreck of the Old 97.” He continued to work at parties, street fairs, and medicine shows during the first half of the 1950s before retiring for a time due to ill health. But in 1961, the Bluesville label recorded three albums of unaccompanied performances by Anderson, documenting him in Spartanburg, South Carolina. The titles of the three records, Carolina Blues Man, Medicine Show Man, and Ballad & Folksinger, vol. 3, sum up Pink Anderson’s life well and are a large slice of the repertoire that he had performed during the previous 35 years.

Pink Anderson stayed active on a part-time basis up until the time of his death in 1974. His music represents the Carolina blues, and the tradition of the constantly traveling folk singer.

Source

Floyd Council (1911-1976)

Floyd Council was a blues singer and guitar slinger who played in the East Coast / Piedmont style. He didn’t record solo often, but he’s still said to have recorded 27 songs, many backing up the legendary Blind Boy Fuller.

Born in North Carolina, Floyd began his musical career on the streets of Chapel Hill in the 1920s, performing with two brothers, Leo and Thomas Strowd as “The Chapel Hillbillies.” He recorded twice for ARC at sessions with Blind Boy Fuller in the mid-thirties, all examples of the Piedmont style. He was sometimes promoted as ‘Dipper Boy Council’, and ‘The Devil’s Daddy-in-Law,’ but these were likely the invention of record companies, not genuine nicknames.

Council suffered a stroke in the late 1960s which partially paralyzed his throat muscles and slowed his motor skills, but did not significantly damage his cognitive abilities. Folklorist Peter B. Lowry attempted to record him one afternoon in 1970, but he never regained his singing or playing abilities. Accounts say that he remained “quite sharp in mind.” Council died in 1976 of a heart attack, after moving to Sanford, North Carolina.

Source

Pink Floyd

Pink Anderson and Floyd Council were both featured on a Blind Boy Fuller album called Country Blues: 1935-1940. The sleeve of that album caught the eye of Syd Barrett, the frontman for London band, The Tea Set. Barrett changed the band's name to Pink Floyd, and the rest is history.

Source

[rhapsodynew]

#everything you need to know about rock

David Gilmour. (part 1)

Wild Jokers: A Career before Pink Floyd

David Jon Gilmour was born on March 6, 1946 in Cambridge, England. His parents encouraged his interest in music and in '54 he acquired the single 'Rock Around the Clock' by Bill Haley [Bill Haley and The Comets].

David: "I'm not sure if 'Rock Around the Clock' was the first record I bought, but it was definitely one of the first."

'Heartbreak Hotel' and 'Jailhouse Rock' Elvis [Elvis Presley] and 'Bye Bye Love' The Everly Brothers drew his attention to the guitar.

David: "I liked the Everleys. When I was 13, I borrowed a Tatay Spanish guitar with nylon strings from a guy next door. They gave it to him, but he had no hearing, and he didn't need it. I never got it back." I started playing, and my parents were delighted. We had a musical family — my parents sang, my brother played the flute and my sister played the violin. They bought me a Pete Seeger Teaches Guitar tutorial with a set of records for it."

Rado Bob Klose, future member of The Tea Set, an early incarnation of Pink Floyd]:

"We listened to Radio Luxembourg. Let's hear a song and think, 'How do I play it?'. I remember David playing 'Walk Don't Run' The Ventures, as soon as I heard it."

David also liked Leadbelly], Sony Terry], Brownie McGhee], Howlin' Wolf], Hank Marvin, lead guitarist of The Shadows], and later, he discovered Bob Dylan], whose record his parents brought from America.

David: "I was interested in a wide range — from blues to folk and pop music. Hank Marvin with elements of Dylan Leonard Cohen] and Leonard Bernstein]. Also Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie]."

At the age of 11, David met Roger 'Syd' Barrett, the future guitarist/vocalist of Pink Floyd and Roger Waters, the future bassist/vocalist of Pink Floyd, who went to school next door.

Rosemary Breen, Sid's sister]: "In '61, Clive Welham, the future drummer of Jokers Wild] brought Gilmore to a jam session at Sid's house. They played 'Twenty Flight Rock' Eddie Cochran] and immediately became friends. David came to us often, he and his brother had a lot in common. He was quiet, shy, laconic, but very charming."

In '63, he began studying modern languages at the College of Arts and Technology. He did not complete the course, but learned to speak French fluently. He and Barrett, who studied there, played guitars and harmonicas between lectures.

David: "We played Bo Diddley and 'Come On' The Rolling Stones, The Beatles songs, various blues. We could also play The Shadows instrumentals like 'Apache' for hours."

Stephen Pyle, Gilmore's classmate]: "I've never seen him without a guitar."

At the end of '62, Gilmore became a member of the local band The Ramblers, which included John Gordon, rhythm guitarist] and Clive Welham.

Clive: "We were a semi-professional band, but David was just amazing. A year before that, he didn't play so well, but he worked a lot on technique."

Rick Wills, bassist, future member of Jokers Wild; later worked with Peter Frampton], Roxy Music, Small Faces, David Gilmour, Foreigner and Bad Company, Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Jones Gang, etc.:

"I often met Dave at the music store. Sometimes we wouldn't leave without playing all the guitars that were there. But Dave sometimes seemed arrogant to me. He had this expression on his face: 'I know everything.'"

At the same time, Gilmore was performing with another local band, The Newcomers (July -October '63).

Ken Waterson, vocalist of The Newcomers:

"David had a beat—up Burns guitar and a lousy amp, but even then one thing was clear - he was good."

Gilmore's next band was Jokers Wild * in '64 with Dave Altham vocalist, keyboardist, guitarist and saxophonist], John 'Willie' Wilson, drummer, later worked with Syd Barrett, Al Stewart], Cochise, Quiver, the Sutherland Brothers, David Gilmore, Pink Floyd, etc], Tony Sainty, bassist], who was sometimes replaced by either Rick Wills or David's brother, Peter Gilmour].

Dave Oltham: "We were told about this guy, and we went to see him in a pub on Newmarket Road. The band was about nothing at all, but he played well. I would say emphatically. We asked him to play with us and he agreed."

Their strong point was the vocal harmonies of all five members.

David: "We were quite popular because we played modern dance music, which is what people wanted to hear back then."

Clive: "Wilson Pickett's hit] 'The Midnight Hour' ('65) was his best vocal number and David played a brilliant solo in it on his fiery Hofner Club 60 flame timber] The girls were delighted."

Dave Oltham: "David could listen to a song four or five times and then play it, note by note."

In August '65, Gilmore and Barrett played 'You've Got To Hide Your Love Away' and 'Help' The Beatles on acoustic guitars on the streets of Saint Tropez.

David: "I hitchhiked to the south of France, and Sid came with a friend ** in his Land Rover. I joined them at the campsite where they lived. I remember we went to play in Saint Tropez one day, for fun, and we were arrested for playing without permission. They were released on the promise to get out of the city immediately. We had a great time."

Around the same time, both Gilmore and Barrett, in Cambridge, first tried LSD, hashish and 'magic' mushrooms. David hadn't even smoked marijuana before.

David: "It was a very deep experience."

There was not enough money and Gilmore then took on any job; he delivered wine, sold hot dogs, shipped sheet iron and even worked a couple of times as a model for Varsity magazine.

John Gordon: "Dave always looked more sophisticated than Sid [Barrett]. He looked like a college student from America; white Levi's and all that. The girls liked him."

Christine Smith, at that time a 17-year-old fan of Jokers Wild]: "All the girls were crazy about him. We called him Adonis." ***

In '65, Jokers Wild self-financed the recording of their only album and single 'Don't Ask Me (What I Say)'/'Why Do Fools Fall in Love'. 50 copies of the single and 50 copies of the album were printed. ****

David: "We recorded covers from our live set."

1. Why Do Fools Fall in Love (Frankie Lymon/Herman Santiago/ Jimmy Merchant) 1:51 (hit by American band Frankie Lymon & the Teenagers '56; cover based on the Beach Boys'64 version)

2. Walk Like a Man (Bob Crewe/Bob Gaudio) 2:14 (hit by the American band The Four Seasons '63)

3. Don't Ask Me (What I Say) (Paul Jones) 2:55 (song from the album by the British band Manfred Mann 'The Five Faces of Manfred Mann' '64)

4. Big Girls Don't Cry (Bob Crewe/Bob Gaudio) 2:19 (hit The Four Seasons '62)

5. Beautiful Delilah (Chuck Berry) 2:03 (Chuck Berry song '58; cover based on The Kinks'64 version)

"It was an act of vanity. We went to London and recorded 5 songs at the Regent Sound Studio on Denmark Street, without having the slightest idea what we were doing. We had fans in Cambridge and then we sold them to them. I still have a master tape lying around somewhere."

The band's popularity on the local scene grew, they opened concerts by Animals and Zoot Money's Big Roll Band, The Paramounts (an early incarnation of Procol Harum, performed and jammed with Paul Simon and The Tea Set, later known as Pink Floyd. Some sources claim that at some stage Dick Parry also played in the band [Dick Parry, saxophonist who later worked with Pink Floyd, The Who, Quiver, Paice Ashton Lord, David Gilmore, etc.)

To be continued...

From books: Comfortably Numb the Inside Story of Pink Floyd by Mark Blake, Da Capo Press, 2008; Pink Floyd: The Early Years by Barry Miles, Omnibus Press, 2011 interviews with Gilmore, Oltham, Brin and Wills]

[glassfirefly]

I think that Syd’s figure has always been very overlooked even by people who consider themselves fans of Pink Floyd. I’ve seen his contributions dismissed as ‘childish’ or ‘immature’ compared to the things that the Floyd would do in later years, but the people saying those things seem to forget that without Syd and his early songs there wouldn’t have been any Pink Floyd to begin with. It was him the one who set the course for the band shortly after he joined it, and even after he left, he continued to influence his former bandmates in different ways.

By all accounts, Syd wasn’t an ordinary person and his music reflected it. He had a way with words, and he could paint very vivid and sophisticated mental images, which is not easy, as you probably know if you ever tried to write anything. Sometimes complex and enigmatic, sometimes wondrous and uncomplicated, Syd is definitely someone who left his mark on music. I’m very fond of him and I cherish his musical legacy, which has kept me company in both good and bad times —especially in bad times.

Happy birthday, dear Syd 🩷

[joequiinn]

The Dos and Dont’s of Fake Dating | Meet the OC

So, some of you are already in the know that - although my fic is written as x reader - Ice Princess is very much an OC to me, and I've always approached her as such.

Now that Dos & Don'ts is over, I thought it might be fun to finally introduce my dear Cassandra Masters to the world! Buckle up for a long post everyone~

Further Info About Cassandra

Remember in chapter 15 when Ice Princess chose the name Elvira for her d&d character? Well, that was my way of referencing the fact that my beloved Mistress of the Dark is where I got Cass's name from (Elvira is a stage name, and the incredible actress behind her is Cassandra Peterson!)

Eddie is the only person allowed to call her Cass, and if anyone else tries using the nickname they may face her wrath. She LOATHES being called Cassie, something I imagine her old friends used to do just to annoy her.

Although I decided on Katharine Isabelle as Cass's face claim (solely because she served CUNT in Ginger Snaps), I actually drew inspiration from many women, and even in my head Cass doesn't look like any one person in particular. Others who inspired her look include Jennifer Connelly, Jane Seymour, Emmanuelle Beart, Daniela Melchoir, and Ornella Muti. As for characters, I often pictured Heather Duke from Heathers and Dana from Batman Beyond for inspiration as well.

What Didn't Make It Into the Fic

As mentioned in chapter 14, Cass's first kiss was with Steve Harrington at a party when she was about 12 years old. In my happy little AU where bad things never happen in ST4, they become friends after the initial shock of discovering Cass is dating Eddie and Steve is friends with the Freshmen.

Cass falls in love with d&d, and she attends most of the game sessions.

Once Cassandra starts spending more time at the Munson house, she becomes close with Max after recognizing her from school. Max isn't interested in making new friends - considering that she's still grieving from ST3, but Cass wins her over. Cass unintentionally takes on something of a big sister role for Max.

If life worked a little differently, Cass and Chrissy would've become friends.

After graduation, Cass and Janet start to hang out again - Cass then tries to get Janet and Gareth together (they end up having a lil fling later that year, though who knows where it'll go).

Just Some Fun Facts

In my early drafts - before I settled on the fake dating trope - I had the idea that Cassandra always had a crush on Eddie. I always knew she was going to be a popular, bitchy rich girl, but she was more blatantly drawn to the "bad boy." As I developed the story and plot further, I flipped their roles, and instead it became Eddie who was always a little into Cass.

I knew almost from the start that I wanted Cass to be into figure skating, even before I determined anything else about her (name, look, etc). I loved the idea of Eddie being paired with someone totally opposite of him, but I didn't want to go the more typical cheerleader route - I briefly thought she'd be a dancer, but then figure skating came to me, and it ended up informing a lot of her personality.

I wanted to give Cassandra more interests and depth, and so I decided to make her a closet horror fan due to my own love of horror. As she gets older, horror definitely becomes an even bigger part of her personality, and, unexpectedly, she eventually stumbles into the job of make-up effects artist for films, photoshoots, television, etc.

Cass knows very little about music, so she'll confuse artists/songs constantly ("Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd sound NOTHING alike, why do you think they're the same band?" is a type of question that comes up regularly, amongst others). She also loves to play dumb about music just to see Eddie get worked up. The one artist she does actively listen to and love is David Bowie, and that only starts up after she sees Labyrinth and becomes thoroughly obsessed.

Cassandra definitely gets into witchcraft in the 90s. Pop culture witches of the 80s/90s just appeal to her (or maybe I'm just saying that because they appeal to me).

Could I keep going on and on and on about Cass and Eddie? You bet your ass I could, but I'll spare everyone for now. I'm sure I'll be making more of these posts in the future, especially if I'll be writing more in the future (which I am def planning on)!

[prev. inspo guide for the fic]