The Wiseacre Duos: Steely Dan, Part VIII

How clearly I recall that day in 1993. Typically sun-drenched, oppressively muggy S. Florida fare. I walked into Peaches (remember them?) and got my shiny new copy of Kamakiriad, Donald Fagen's first solo album in 12 years. After a very lengthy creative drought, Fagen had finally rallied the neurons and once again heard the muses in all their sardonic, yet tuneful glory. Expectations were high. I rushed to the counter to check out.

"I couldn't wait until it was over," the clerk retorted when I asked her if she had heard it. This was hilarious to me, as I imagined it would've been to Fagen and his old musical cohort, Walter Becker, who was brought in to produce the album. She didn't give any specifics, even as I prodded her. "It was just so, boring," she offered. She was clearly not a hopeless fanatic like myself. As I recall, she was clad in an oversized flannel shirt, the official outfit of the Grunge Nation at the time. Of course Fagen's latest wouldn't thrill her. My assessment (likely accurate, if a bit broad) of her taste was that she favored the industrial noise of Trent Reznor and the crunch of Mudhoney and Nirvana. Funny thing, I was most likely in similiar dress when I bought Kamikiriad, as I too was full into what was once called "alternative" music. Later that same year, I found myself in a sweaty mosh pit getting kicked in the head by someone's Doc Martens during a Breeders/Nirvana show. But no matter how dynamic my tastes, I would and will always have room for anything the former Dan duo would produce.

On the drive home from the record store, I was immediately satisfied with the familiar soft beats. From Note One, it was like the reintroduction of the compnay of an old friend. Warm synthesizers. Smooth, yet poignant horns. That unmistakable sound, all their own. Yet it wasn't precisely Steely Danish, despite Becker's not only producing but also playing bass on every track. One of them, "Snowbound" had been a collabortion dating back to '86. This album reflected a gentler, more romantic wistfullness that was rare on a Steely Dan album. Walter may have participated, but the stories and tone were all Donald's.

It was a concept album, even though Fagen hated that term. In the near future, a middle-aged man takes his new souped-up vehicle on a fateful journey through places called Flytown and "Funway West." The car runs on alternative fuel, is somewhat aerodynamic, and even has a hydroponic garden in the back. Wrapped in a sci-fi package, Kamikiriad is a journey from youthful optimism to disillusionment to renewed hope. To some, the sound was antiseptic. Too controlled. And it was very controlled. By now, Fagen's fanatacism for the perfect groove was measured in milliseconds. Technology was allowing computer sequencing to utilize the raw materials of a musician's take and correct any miscue. Not even miscue; the process enabled entire bars to flow flawlessly, perhaps to a degree that was not humanly possible. Again in the engineering hotseat was Roger "The Immortal" Nichols. He more than knew the territory with Fagen, and was able to commandant something this most fussy composer could at the very least, live with.

Kamakiriad shifts gears, so to speak, among pretty ballads and faster stomps, though melancholia prevades every track. The first single, "Tomorrow's Girls", describes a race of aliens that look very much like the fairer sex. As they invade the Jersey beaches, all the hapless males craving attention are entranced. It's a concept worthy of B-grade sci fi. Fagen often stated that he found science fiction a useful genre through which he could talk about the present, particularly regarding current unpleasantries. "Tomorrow's Girls" has often been cited as Fagen's lament over his break-up with a longtime girlfriend, perhaps someone who became rather alien to him.

A few years later, Walter Becker finally released his own effort, with Fagen as producer. Eleven Tracks of Whack sounded even less like a Steely Dan album, to this listener. A deeply personal collection of folk and folk rockish tracks wrapped in the usual slick production, Eleven spans twelve tales of pensiveness (alas, the twelfth track is not of "whack", but rather an uncharacteristically sweet ode to his son Kawai) eminating from the soul of a man who had already seen several miles of bad road in his 44 years. Becker had been touched by tragedy after the death of his girlfriend in 1980 ("Junkie Girl") and another friend ("Surf and/or Die"). The romantic longing, the hollowness of bachelorhood was explored in "Girlfriend", a disarmingly genteel track that has a nice after hours feel. Not exactly lounge lizard but close, without the requisite cheese factor (though some would doubtless argue that). "Book of Liars" is another effective story of an untrustworthy significant other. Just about every song had that mordant sense of humor, though age had begun to reveal a more reflective side of the artist.

The album is not easy to enjoy. As one critic dryly noted, Becker's voice is a "born irritant." I shelved the disc after a few tries, going back to it every so often. It took a year for me to appreciate it. It grew on me, yes, but moreso I began to have a begrudging affection for it. Like a self-destructive friend-I pray for him, enjoy his company sometimes, but still keep my distance lest I get infected. My feelings about this album are pretty much the same today.

Between Kamakiriad and Eleven Tracks of Whack, Fagen and Becker relented and once again used the Steely Dan name, to tour. The first such outing since their shows in Santa Monica 19 years earlier. The tour was a great success. The came another. And another. 1994's Alive in America would be the duo's first official live recording, though it revealed some disappointingly flat versions of songs like "Third World Man" and "Josie".

Some critics did indeed state that SD's concerts were less than spirited in those initial reunion years. After the novelty of hearing songs that had never been performed live had worn off, there was only the feeling of familiarity. That would shift, as the army of musicians drafted by Fagen and Becker would begin to improvise in this far looser setting. Being out of the studio and in front of the fandom would ultimately be very freeing for our composers. It freed them from their need for the precise, as well as their earlier aversion to performing. By 1996's "Art Crimes" tour, dare we say that the boys were enjoying the process?!

There was great fun in switching up the arrangements of "Reeling in the Years," changing the opening guitar riffs to a horn section. "Dirty Work" was now being sung by a guest female vocalist (Bonnie Raitt was one). Fagen also derived some glee as he changed the lyrics of several chestnuts, inlcuding his insertion of other names for 'Aretha Franklin' in "Hey 19." It seemed that Fagen and Becker had eschewed their disdain for the past, and rather embraced something very positive and satisfying. It went on for the rest of the 90s.

So of course the next logical step was............

to be concluded