This track’s a relatively recent add to the music storage on the phone. It was back in 2021 or so. I can’t remember what made me do it. I was mostly likely on a Pink Floyd binge as a fan of Pink Floyd may do on occasion, came across the promotional video for ‘The Scarecrow’ (above) and liked it enough that it made sense to add it to the library. It was one of the last few songs I synced onto my phone before I made the decision to stop adding ‘new’ music, otherwise I’d end up never finishing this series. Or at least I would, but at a much further time than I think I would want it to go on for.

And with ‘The Scarecrow’ comes the only representation of the band’s Piper at the Gates of Dawn album that you’ll see on here. It’s not my favourite LP by the band. But with that being said, the Syd Barrett-era of Pink Floyd is an interesting, interesting one. Though I don’t think anyone will complain about any of the music that followed after his departure, it’s songs (for me) like ‘Arnold Layne’, ‘The Gnome’, ‘Bike’ and ‘See Emily Play’ (which’ll get a post on here fairly soon) that make me wonder how things would have gone for Barrett and the group had he not fried his brain with LSD and suffered a complete mental breakdown. It’s one of those great questions that’ll never be answered.

So, what’s ‘The Scarecrow’ about? Well, it’s in the title. Which specific scarecrow caught Barrett’s eye is anyone’s guess. But he saw it, and the sight of it was fascinating enough that it inspired him enough to write a song. There’s nothing to work out when it comes to the lyricism, which is a case when it comes to a lot of songs penned by Barrett. They’re written in a way that, really, a child could understand, which I say with no intention to undermine them. The accompanying music, I feel, reinforces this childlike wonder. You get this clip-clopping percussion and a wandering organ that separates the verses. I think Barrett comes in a bar or two earlier when singing the second verse. All nice and psychedelic. And then this majestic ending with swooping strings and 12-string guitar suddenly comes in from out of nowhere, fading out before you have time to process it. Could listen to that part on an infinite loop. But it’s a genius move. To end this song in such a way that leaves you wanting more after starting off so unassumingly. And that’s just one reason why I respect Syd Barrett’s craft.