Most decidedly on the more rambunctious end of the spectrum as far as music in 1967 went was Pink Floyd's debut album. Fronted by Syd Barrett and his cosmic-inspired (or drug-fueled) visions and guitar experiments, which quite often drew from childhood nostalgia, his performance has long been critically acclaimed, but I go the other way. Other than the space-grabbing "Astronomy Domine", there are just flashes of brilliance and nothing sustained, while the rest of the band struggles to keep up ("Take Up Thy Stethoscope and Walk" has long been cited as a major weak point). Piper is no magnum opus – more like a window into the workings of a hyperactive, unsteady, borderline-dangerous mind, accentuated by copious amounts of drug-taking.