“Jack of Speed”—sixth song on Two Against Nature (2000)

I’m not going to try to figure out the literal meaning of this song—maybe there isn’t one—and if there is one, you could argue that the feeling you get from it is enough. Right off the bat, the title, and last line of each verse, “Jack of Speed,” seems to refer to a slippery human condition of sorts—maybe we’ve all been there, to a degree, or potentially could find ourselves there—it’s a bit of a warning. What’s funny is that it made me think about the word “speed”—interesting word—an old word that historically meant only good things, but in more recent times came with dire warnings. I remember the TV ads from my childhood—not sure what years, but maybe late Sixties or so—that warned, “Speed Kills.” This was around the time of increasing awareness of automobile safety, and also the time of public awareness of drug abuse—so, of course, we all learned that Methamphetamine was known as “speed.” My mother had been a mild addict, as it had been freely prescribed by doctors to patients for diet and mood, and of course was used to work tirelessly. She told me about how all the women in her church were using it, which had a lot to do with the impossible standards of housecleaning established by the 1950s middle class. Speed was for “Keeping up with the Joneses”—the problem being, it was addictive, and therefore gave way to keeping up with the joneses. Many people of that era were decimated by its destructive side effects, before it was eventually banned. The funny point to all this is that I never did know if the “Speed Kills” ads were referring to automobiles or drugs—I still don’t know—maybe both. And in contemporary times, it could be a general warning about everything moving too fast—our fast-track to oblivion.

But back to the song—it’s an extremely catchy pop number, the primary hook, for me, being the clever lyrical structure, which might have a name, but I don’t know, so I’ll describe it. Each verse starts with a couple of rhyming lines, setting the scene, followed by a two-word description (“He’s changed,” in the first verse, “He’s gone,” in the second), which is then followed by a phrase modifying that, followed by the two-word description again, and then another phrase which will ultimately rhyme with “Jack of Speed” at the end of the verse. That’s complicated, so to illustrate—my favorite of the three (second verse) we get: “He’s gone—he walks through the old routines / but he’s gone—guaranteed / He may be sittin’ in the kitchen but he’s steppin’ out with the Jack of Speed.” Nice. And yes, there is a bridge, which refers to the “shriek express”—and I don’t need to know exactly what that is to get the gist. Musically, this is an impossibly infectious, cool funk groove, with subtle horns, restrained guitars (the guitar solo is subtle—very nice), and my favorite sound in there, like many Steely Dan songs, is some beautiful electric piano. Great backup vocals, just enough. Most subtle of all—I actually never noticed this until now—after the refrain, during the final instrumental minute and a half—some kind of percussion instrument comes in that sounds a bit like sleighbells—and makes me think of a similar sound in “Charlie Freak” (from Pretzel Logic)—another song that, in part, refers to these things we are no match for—you know, like addiction, and death. I’m probably projecting a bit here, but I had to wonder if the two songs are connected, kind of like sister songs.

—Randy Russell 3.7.21