Speedy Keen “Y’Know Wot I Mean?”

Nothing more mysterious than the name “Speedy Keen” sold me on this $3 find. (Recalling the enduring Steely Speen vs. Steeleye Speen debate. Due to the cursive, I thought it said: “Ken Speen” at first!) That, and the full-cover, black and white photo of a leatherjacketed, longhaired, dude who looks right out of 1975—and for good reason. Otherwise, there isn’t much in the way of clues—Island Studios Hammersmith, some familiar musicians (it’s always promising when there are names like “Peaches” and “Rabbit”). Also, “John Keen” wrote most of the songs, played guitars, drums, and keyboards (including my fav from my younger days, Mellotron) as well as singing—no wonder they call him Speedy! The guy at the record store nonjudgmentally said, “Speedy Keen”—perhaps even with approval—but I admitted I knew nothing of him—so then he said, “He was with Thunderclap Newman!”—which brought more blankness, I admit. Some of the songs (in particular, “Nightmare”) remind me a little of Mott the Hoople from around the same time—mixture of blues influenced hard rock, country, and a bit of weirdness—you wouldn’t confuse Keen with Ian Hunter, but their approach is perhaps similar. That it’s a Roy Orbison cover makes “Almost Eighteen” a little more palatable—in that a guy who wrote “In Dreams” has already surpassed the creepola event horizon—it’s a teeny-bopper song, but not really acceptable if sung by anyone older than say 19—or who sports a ’stache. There’s even a reggae song, which could be—seeing it’s on Island Records, and this number was produced by Chris Blackwell—kind of an artistic “taxation”—indicated by that little “dagger” next to the title. Pretty good song, though! Side Two starts off with a trio of love ballads (“I Promise You”/”Someone to Love”/”My Love”)—my favorite stretch of the record—I mean, really nice songs if you’re in such a mood—which I wasn’t until I heard these songs. I’m a sap. I guess Side Two is kind of the gentle side of Speedy Keen, where Side One is the farraginous approach—corny, jaunty, silly, heavy-duty, reggae, you name it. Not a bad strategy for an album (think Stones “Tattoo You”)—to really use that two-side format in real way—an art that was lost in the CD era. It ends with a gentle environmental political number that recalls times before everyone going 100 mph to the next dead end, shouting to be heard above the roar of idiocy.

10.17.25