Loved 'em in the early '70s. Got a bit sick of them by the time of Wish You Were Here. Threw away nearly all their albums when punk came along. Hated The Wall. Met a lot of people who knew and liked them when I began spending a lot of time on a Greek island where David Gilmour had some property, and once had an extremely weird night at a party in the Reading house of Gilmour's personal assistant (who was well paid enough to have an indoor swimming pool). At another point in the mid 80s, I was out in London with a bunch of people, and our bunch sort of merged with another bunch, and only later did I realize that the nice guy who'd been sitting to the left of me for an hour in some club, hardly saying a word, was Rick Wright. But basically paid them scant attention for ten years or so. Ended up working at one of their concerts in Berlin in 1988 and thought, hey, well, they're not that bad really. Bought eastern European bootleg copies of one or two of their early albums, rekindling a liking for Syd Barrett's solo stuff. Still didn't care about them that much, though; in 1990 got VIP passes for the legendary Wall concert and ended up spending the entirety of it necking free drink with old friends in the extremely well-stocked backstage hospitality tent. A year or two later, a fascination with The Orb's Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld (basically a kind of techno Pink Floyd album) made me listen to mid-period Floyd again, and now I occasionally put on Meddle, Atom Heart Mother or Wish You Were Here, though the punk in me remains to this day kind of uneasy about them. Still, saw them on Live 8 and thought they were by far the best thing on offer.
Jugband Blues, Syd's very last song with Pink Floyd:
"And the sea isn't green
And I love the Queen
And what exactly is a dream?
And what exactly is a joke?"