Procol's Keith Reid, One of A Kind, Dies
He wrote the words. Room no longer humming as ceiling falls away.
Greg Mitchell is the author of a dozen books and now writer/director of award-winning films, including this one coming to PBS stations in May. He was also a longtime editor of the legendary Crawdaddy.
It was more rumor than anything for a day but now sad to see confirmed that Procol Harum lyricist Keith Reid died of cancer earlier this week, at the age of 76. Going back to “Whiter Shade of Pale” he was one of a kind, but never got the attention he deserved because he did not perform with group (and their popularity slowly faded as the ‘60s turned to ‘70s (and then the ‘70s wandered along). Still, he penned some great songs for and with Gary Brooker, who also passed away not long ago. I recall that swell interview with him by my friend Allen Richards that we published in Zygote back in (ouch) 1970. Below are a few Procol classics, and an Annie Lennox cover, and our usual cartoons. Please subscribe if you have not, it’s still free!
Keith on his most famous song:
I was trying to conjure a mood as much as tell a straightforward, girl-leaves-boy story. With the ceiling flying away and room humming harder, I wanted to paint an image of a scene. I wasn’t trying to be mysterious with those images, I was trying to be evocative. I suppose it seems like a decadent scene I’m describing. But I was too young to have experienced any decadence, then. I might have been smoking when I conceived it, but not when I wrote. It was influenced by books, not drugs.
Very early live Procol version of “Whiter Shade of Pale” here:
Annie Lennox’s suitably odd, hit, cover.
“Shine on Brightly”
“Homburg”
“The Devil Came from Kansas,” 1974.
“A Salty Dog” (a full appreciation of the song here).
“A Christmas Camel”
RIP Keith Reid. Also great to celebrate the late Gary Brooker. Amazingly, their opus, like Don McLean's, is destined to live forever and ever. (Did you catch Don McLean's quote from "Whiter Shade" in "American Pie" - i.e. "leaving for the coast?")
This and the other songs of mystery of those days differ from the songs of courtship and nostalgia. They don’t summon memories but wonder. We layer on meaning each decade. They escape précis. We experience them like a prompted AI image that is almost in grasp until an aspect dissipates perception into a trance.