Have you ever wondered about, you know, the invisible
threads that tie the history of rock music together?
Oh, the hidden connections. Yeah. Right. Like
the people who aren't always household names,
but who are secretly behind some of the biggest
moments in music. Definitely. I mean, we always
think of the front men, right? The people on
the posters. Exactly. But today, our mission
for this deep dive is to map out the hidden architecture
of British rock and pop culture. and we have
the perfect subject for it. We really do. We're
using a Wikipedia article today detailing the
life and career of John David Percy Keene or
as he was famously known to the industry, Speedy
Keen. Speedy Keen. I mean, he lived from 1945
to 2002, and his career is just, it's staggering.
It's wild. We're tracing the footsteps of this
one highly adaptable, almost Zellig -like figure
to see how it all connects. Yeah, because music
history isn't just made by the people in the
magazine covers. It's made by the people in the
room, right? The people making those everyday
connections. And Speedy Keen is, without a doubt,
the ultimate musical chameleon. I mean, his career
spans an unbelievable range of genres. You don't
survive in that industry without being ridiculously
adaptable. OK, let's unpack this. Yeah. Because
we really need to start at the beginning of his
journey to see how this young musician just,
well, works his way into the epicenter of the
1960s London music scene. Through sheer proximity
and hustle, mostly. Right. So he's born in Ealing,
London in March 1945. And he does this early
apprenticeship in all these bands with those
great very 60s names, like The Crusaders. The
Second Thoughts, too. Yeah, The Second Thoughts.
And he's playing alongside Patrick Campbell Lyons
and Chris Thomas in that one. And The Eccentrics.
Which is just a fantastic band name. It really
is. And he actually gets his first recorded song
out there in 1966. It's a track called Club of
Lights. Right. Performed by Oscar, who was actually
Paul Nicholas. Exactly. So he's grinding it out,
getting a foot in the door. But then he ends
up doing something that is just... Well, it's
like an ambitious intern who somehow ends up
writing the CEO's keynote speech. That is a perfect
way to put it. He ends up sharing a flat with
and working as a driver for Pete Townsend of
The Who. What's fascinating here is how physical
proximity to greatness so often breeds opportunity.
You know, if you're in the room, or in this case,
the van, right? If you're there and you have
the talent, you can make things happen. It's
just an absolute anomaly that Keen ends up writing
the track. Armenia City in the Sky for The Who's
1967 album, The Who Sellout. Wait, I have to
jump in here and clarify something. Is it actually
true that The Who never took outside material
that was tailored for them? Basically, yeah.
Because our source says this is the only song
The Who ever performed that was specifically
written for them by a non -member. It's incredible,
right? Townsend was fiercely protective of his
writing. The guy driving his van just casually
writes the opening track for a generational masterpiece.
Well, the timing was right. They needed something
extremely specific, something surreal and psychedelic
for that album concept. Keen had the goods. And
there's that hilarious anecdote from their bassist,
John Antwistle. Oh, I love that story. Right.
He joked that the lyrics and vocals were so layered
and weird that fans misheard the lyrics, our
media city in the sky, as I'm an ear sitting
in the sky. I mean, it does kind of sound like
that. But, you know, getting that credit changed
everything for him. So having proven himself
as a writer for literally one of the biggest
bands in the world, the natural next step is
for him to step out from behind the curtain.
Right, time to lead his own project. Which he
does. He becomes the lead singer and the drummer
for the rock band Thunder Clap Newman. And we
have to pause and appreciate how difficult that
is. Oh, it's insane. Being the drummer, the lead
vocalist, and the primary songwriter simultaneously.
It's like spinning plates while riding a unicycle.
It really is. Most people struggle to do just
one of those things well. But Keane is doing
all three, and he writes their defining track
in 1969. Something in the Air. Exactly. Which
rockets all the way to number one on the UK singles
chart. Just a massive, massive hit. This represents
the absolute pinnacle of Keen's commercial visibility.
It's that huge shift, you know, from being Pete
Townsend's driver fading into the background
to standing right atop the UK charts. It really
shows you that the leap from the background to
the foreground can happen with literally just
one perfect song. Yeah, when it hits the zeitgeist
just right. But of course, following up a massive
number one hit is, well, it's brutal. The pressures
of the music industry inevitably force an artist
to forge a more individual identity. You can't
just repeat the same magic trick forever. Right.
Which leads us into his solo years. He records
two solo albums, previous Convations in 1973,
which was released on track records. Which makes
sense with his Who connections. Exactly. And
then, you know what I mean? In 1975, released
on Island Records. Two really solid, fascinating
solo efforts. So what does this all mean, like,
in the grand scheme of his career? Well, it shows
he was trying to establish his own voice outside
of a band dynamic. True. But there's also this
strange afterlife to recorded music that I find
so interesting. There's a track called I Promise
You from that second solo album. And the 1975
one. Yeah. And it found an entirely new audience
decades later. It was used in the American TV
series The Big C. If we connect this to the bigger
picture, this is a prime example of music synchronization
or sync licensing. Right. It's just wild to think
about a track laid down in a studio in the mid
-1970s just lying dormant for years. Just sitting
on a record on a shelf somewhere. Exactly, only
to be pulled up decades later because it evokes
the perfect emotional resonance for a completely
modern television audience. It really shows that
a song's true value isn't just about where it
charts in its first week. It can have this incredibly
long tail. Oh, absolutely. The emotional core
of a good song doesn't expire. OK, here's where
it gets. really interesting. I know where you're
going with this. Uh huh. Right. Because if you
thought Keane was just gonna like settle into
a comfortable career as a legacy 60s and 70s
pop rock artist, his next career move shatters
that expectation entirely. It is the ultimate
stylistic whiplash. We're talking a move from
pop to the absolute rawest edges of rock. He
steps into the producer's chair. And not just
for anybody. No. He produces the eponymous first
album for Heavy Metal Titan's Motorhead. Motorhead?
And he produces the proto -punk classic L .A
.M .F. for the Heartbreakers. Johnny Thunder's
band. Yeah. I just, I can't wrap my head around
this pivot. It's like a classical composer suddenly
deciding to direct a gritty, high octane action
movie. How does the guy who's saying something
in the air... Help give birth to Motorhead. Well,
you have to look at what a great producer actually
does. OK. A great producer doesn't just impart
their own sound onto a band. They translate the
raw energy of the artists in the room. So he
wasn't trying to make Lemmy sound like a pop
singer. Not at all. Keane had this deep fundamental
understanding of song structure. And when you're
dealing with the chaotic energy of protopunk
and early metal, you need someone who knows where
the structural beams go, so to speak. That makes
total sense. Right. He allowed them to be as
abrasive and loud as they wanted, but he wrangled
that noise into cohesive legendary albums. He
gave their chaos a skeleton. Wow. He really was
just a master of the mechanics of music. Completely.
And that totally explains his next phase, to
round out his career. Because he refuses to be
boxed into a single genre, or even a single role.
He actually returns to the background. Acting
as the ultimate musical utility player. Yes.
He starts working as a session musician, and
the roster is wildly diverse. He works with rock
legend Rod Stewart. That huge gig. He plays for
the gothic rock band The Mission. Which is such
a specific sound. And he works with smooth jazz
saxophonist Kenny G. Yeah, that one always gets
people. I mean, I have to push back in disbelief
here. Connecting Motorhead, The Who, and Kenny
G, that is a pipeline that seems completely mathematically
impossible. It really shouldn't exist. But he
did it. and not just as a player. He's also writing
songs for the Swinging Blue Jeans, a track called
Something's Coming Along, and he writes Your
Love for Crocodile Tears. He's even providing
music for TV programs like The Zoo and doing
various television advertisements. Think about
the sheer technical mastery required to play
keyboards, drums, guitar, Hammond organs, and
provide vocals across so many wildly different
genres. This raises an important question, though,
about what it truly means to be a working musician.
How so? Well, we usually celebrate the people
chasing the spotlight. superstars. But the most
successful, essential people in the music industry
aren't always those people. Right. They are the
reliable, adaptable craftsmen. The ones who can
just walk into a studio, assess what's needed,
and speak any musical language required of them
on any given day. Just totally checking their
ego at the door to serve the song. Exactly. Whether
it's heavy metal, goth rock, or a TV commercial.
That is just incredibly respectable. Unfortunately,
Speedy Keen passed away from heart failure in
March 2002. He was only 56 years old. Far too
young. Far too young. But when you look back
at the incredible journey we just took today,
from being a driver for Pete Townsend, to a number
one hit maker, to a punk and metal producer.
And then to a Kenny G session player. It's just
astonishing. I think for you listening, this
is really why you should care about stories like
this. Pop culture isn't just a simple series
of famous frontmen standing in the spotlight.
No, not at all. It's this massively complex web,
and it's held together by brilliant, adaptable
journeymen like Speedy Keen. So I'll leave you
with this final thought to mull over. The next
time you listen to a legendary culture shifting
album, ask yourself... Who was driving the tour
van? Who was making the tea in the studio? Because
the real architects of our culture are so often
hiding in plain sight. They're just tucked away
in the small print of the liner notes waiting
to be discovered. That is such a great point
to end on. Thank you all for joining us on this
deep dive and we'll catch you next time.