Keith Reid – The Last Fandango

by Stuart Penney

So, farewell to wordsmith extraordinaire Keith Reid, who died on March 23 at the age of 76.  I encountered him only once, extremely fleetingly.  Shortly after I moved to London in the summer of 1967 my job as a messenger boy for a West End music publisher took me to Golden Square in Soho, not far from Regent Street.  On this particular day I was tasked with delivering a package (on foot, as usual) to the offices of one of the film companies located there.

 As I crossed the square, I became aware of a stylish figure walking a few yards in front.  He had an impressive Hendrix-style halo of curls, a Carnaby Street military style jacket and, best of all, he was wearing an extremely desirable pair of red Cuban heel boots.  In 1967 those boots would have cost him close to £25, or the equivalent of three-week’s wages for the likes of me.  As Cuban heels were, ahem, inclined to do, the boots affected his gait somewhat, causing him to teeter slightly forward as he walked.  56 years later I can picture that image now as vividly as if it were yesterday.

He entered the office block slightly ahead and turned to hold open the door.  During this random act of courtesy, I saw his face for the first time and recognised the man in the wire granny glasses right away.  It was Keith Reid who had written the words to what was indisputably the biggest hit single of 1967, “A Whiter Shade of Pale.”

  

He asked for directions to whatever office he was visiting.  I can’t recall where I was headed, but it was on different floor to his destination.  So, I directed him to a board showing a list of businesses in the building and went on my way. 

As founder and non-performing member of Procol Harum, Reid wrote the lyrics for every one of their albums and singles from 1967 to 2003.  “A Whiter Shade of Pale,” their first and biggest hit, topped the UK charts for six weeks and reached number one in dozens of other countries around the world, eventually selling 10 million copies along the way, one of the few singles ever to achieve this figure.  Although not performing with Procol onstage, he was often pictured with them in the music press, making him instantly familiar to those of us who pored over such details.

  

But Reid didn’t confine his writing skills to Procol Harum.  He also penned lyrics for others.  In 1986 he co-wrote “You’re the Voice” for John Farnham, one of Australia’s most enduring pop stars.  The song appeared on Farnham’s album Whispering Jack which was a massive hit down under, achieving sales of 24 x platinum* and becoming the biggest selling Australian album of all time.  It also sold well in other parts of the world, particularly Scandinavia.  

*(In Australia an album qualifies for platinum certification if it exceeds 70,000 copies shipped to retailers.  So, 24 x platinum equates to 1,680,000 albums, or one record in approximately every five homes.  Not bad for a country of just 26 million people).

“You’re the Voice” was named 1987 Australian single of the year.  It topped the singles chart in Germany and reached the top ten in the UK and elsewhere.  

In an attempt to rally voters, the song has been used in TV adverts during Australian state and federal elections and during the COVID 19 pandemic “You’re the Voice” was played by anti-lockdown protesters in Melbourne and elsewhere.

Consequently, it was no surprise when, in an act of unabashed patriotism and/or blatant parochialism, virtually all the Australian newspaper obituaries I saw of Reid featured headlines such as “You’re the Voice Songwriter Dies” and covered the John Farnham connection in great depth before mentioning “A Whiter Shade Of Pale” almost as an afterthought. 

Syd Barrett - A Madcap Mystery Solved

The Strange Tale of Syd Barrett's Mystery LP

by Stuart Penney

In late 1969 photographer Mick Rock visited Syd Barrett at his flat in Wetherby Mansions, Earls Court to take pictures for the cover of Syd’s first solo album The Madcap Laughs.  Those images are among the most powerful rock photos of the era and many ended up in the hugely collectible (and now very expensive) book Psychedelic Renegades (Plexus Publishing 2007).  

(Ed. Note: Mick Rock has said the photo session took place in Autumn 1969, while other sources claim it happened much earlier in the year. We assume Mick's date is correct).

Due to his “erratic behaviour” Barrett had been ousted from Pink Floyd in early 1968 and embarked on a hesitant and short-lived solo career.  While Syd was not officially fired from the band, the Floyd members have said they simply stopped calling ‘round to pick him up for gigs.

The Madcap Laughs was eventually released in January 1970, followed later in the year by Barrett, his second and final album. After this Syd went into rapid decline, disappearing from public view in the mid-70s and eventually moving back to his hometown of Cambridge. Barrett’s mental health may have been fragile in autumn 1969, but Mick Rock captured him at his lithe, handsome best.  With wild, tousled hair and eyes heavily lined with kohl Syd cut a magnificent figure and it’s probably true to say that he never looked better than in the series of photos taken that day.

A few outdoor shots show Syd stretched along the bonnet of his 1959 dark blue Pontiac Parisienne in red velvet trousers and regulation rock star Cuban heel shoes from Gohil’s.*  The enormous left-hand drive American car languished, neglected and undriven, for months in the street outside the Earls Court mansion block until it was eventually removed (some say Syd gave it away). The car was later pictured on the back cover of the Barrett LP.

*(Ed. Note: Velji Gohil opened his Camden store in 1966 making handmade leather boots and shoes which became popular with the rock aristocracy.  Roger Waters later name-checked the shop in the song “Nobody Home” on side three of The Wall: “I’ve got a pair of Gohills [sic] boots, and I’ve got fading roots.”)

The Pontiac resurfaced in the 1970 black comedy film Entertaining Mr. Sloane, wearing the same London registered number plate VYP 74 but resprayed bright pink.  As to the car’s history, the story goes that Mickey Finn of T.Rex bought it in an auction at the Royal Albert Hall but didn’t like the attention it brought him.  So, a swap was arranged.  Syd became the new owner of the Pontiac, while Mickey got Barrett’s Mini in exchange.  True or not, it’s a great tale.

 Another photograph shows a shirtless Syd crouching next to an open window, with the sunlight streaming in.  The bare wooden floorboards have been painted alternately orange and dark blue, the kind of project which probably seemed like a great idea at the time before it became clear, in the cold light of day, that the high gloss paint would probably take an eternity to dry.  The same photo also shows some unpainted floorboards, indicating the job was unfinished (a paint pot and brush are visible nearby).  Those famous Wetherby Mansions floorboards can be seen in all their striped glory on the front cover of The Madcap Laughs.

To the right of the photo is a stereo separates system.  Sitting next to an amplifier of indeterminate make we see a Garrard SP-25 Mk 1 idler drive turntable, then standard issue hi fi equipment for budget conscious music lovers across the land.  Introduced in 1967 the SP-25 is a four speed semi-automatic turntable capable of playing records at 16, 33, 45 and 78 rpm.  It wasn’t exactly high-end audiophile gear, but it was robust enough and did the job just fine.  A pair of giant loudspeakers (possibly Wharfedales) are placed haphazardly in the centre of the room, atop which sits a domestic reel-to-reel tape recorder.

On the turntable is an LP with a yellow label.  Keen-eyed record spotters will quickly identify the Direction label, a CBS offshoot launched in 1967 to issue mainly American soul and R&B in the UK.  Direction didn’t flourish, however, and CBS closed the label in 1970 after releasing only around 26 albums and approx 100 singles. But since we can't read the label and the sleeve is nowhere to be seen, how can we identify the LP on Syd’s turntable?

Fortunately, with only around two dozen Direction LPs to deal with, it was a relatively easy task to work out that the record is The Natch’l Blues (Direction S58-63397) the second album by bluesman Taj Mahal and the 10th LP issued on the label.  It was a fairly new release in the UK at the time, appearing in March 1969 (although the US version had been released several months earlier on Columbia with a totally different sleeve design).  

How do we know this?  Zooming in, Syd’s record shows five banded tracks.  Four of them are roughly the same width, but the last one “Done Changed My Way Of Thinking” is much wider, running around seven minutes.  Not one of the other 25 Direction LPs have tracks which exactly match this pattern (yes, I methodically worked through all 50+ sides). So, by a process of elimination, it can only be side one of The Natch’l Blues.

Furter evidence emerged in a January 1970 Record Mirror interview (later reprinted in issue #17 of the mid-70s Barratt fanzine Terrapin.) When asked what music he'd been listening to, Syd said: “During the past six months there have been some very good things released.  The best things I've bought are the new Taj Mahal album, Captain Beefheart and The Band.  I don't think any of them have influenced my writing though.  I've been writing in all sorts of funny places.”

Of course, in the interview Syd could have been referring to the third Taj Mahal album, the double Giant Step / De Ole Folks At Home (Direction S8-63820/1) which was released in the UK in November 1969, but I like to think he meant The Natch’l Blues. 

All photos of Syd by Mick Rock (1948 - 2021)