Steely Dan: "Steely Dan's name has been popping up as a hip musical crush. Remember, this glossy bop-pop was the indifferent aristocracy to punk rock's stone-throwing in the late 70's. People fought

haha beautiful.

xpost: I respect the first two records and love the new one, though I know lots of folks who, like Jody, feel the opposite.

xpost Jody is SO FUCKING OTM.

Bingo.

new genre: dragtime

otherwise wtf

Ahhh wait the new Fagen is Joe Pernice! think about it. musically, maybe Sea and Cake (in some ways, they're a lot like Gaucho)

xpost no shit there's no new anything, I just thought I'd go fishing and piss you all off in the process, which I've done yay!

http://myweb.thump.net/995729/ali.jpg

Donald: Aren't they in the "slow" class?

Walter: They're in the LOW class.

Moderator: Don't you mean No Class...

Donald: Well, where's it being held?

Walter: I heard it was going to be the planet Zonar.

Donald: We need more information to make a big decision like that.

HoopsMcCann: It hasn't been decided yet...

Walter: Plus, we haven't even been invited!

HoopsMcCann: You are invited!!!

Walter: Sorry, can't make it.

Horace Silver/Charlier Parker is to Steely Dan as the Fall/Husker Du/whatever is to Pavement. Let each duo be a smart, privileged college kid in the other's era and they come up with the same kinda stuff.

It was about two A.M. on an unseasonably chilly evening in June when the phone rang. Having just put the finishing touches on a rather lukewarm review of the Leo Sayer concert out in Queens, I was anything but ready for the rapid-fire monologue delivered long distance from L.A. by a man who introduced himself as Steve Diener. After a half hour or so, I came to understand that this garrulous gentleman worked for ABC Records and was inviting me out to Hollywood to observe a Steely Dan recording session, the object being to compose an eyewitness account of the proceedings for a posh European publication. Of course, I was delighted at the prospect and perhaps even a wee bit flattered when I was told that the group had specifically requested my presence. I later found out that this was not entirely true. In retrospect, I should have realized the assignment would not be all sweetness and light; in no way has Steely Dan made its reputation by catering to the rock press. In fact, their contempt for pop music critics was well known to myself and my colleagues. As it turned out, a little caution on my part would not have been out of order. By the end of the first session at Producer's Workshop in Hollywood, it had become abundantly clear to me that nobody inthe "group" new or cared who I was or what I was doing there.

Several sessions later, after Donald and Walter had been apprised of my identity, there was trouble. To make a long story short, I managed to attend perhaps a dozen sessions at three different studios and, on two occasions, attempted to inter- view the composers. Unfortunately, both cassettes were seized under grievous circumstances by a fellow whom I believe to be in the employ of the reluctant interviewees. The loss was inconsequential considering that fact that, at that point, my relationship with the belligerent song writing duo had become so strained as to produce a dialog that consisted mainly of threats, insults, and rude remarks. This, then was the raw material I had to work with. I had squeezed out about three thousand words when I heard from a friend in London that the afore- mentioned European magazine had folded.

It was not until a year later that I received a second phone call from Mr. Diener, now president of ABC Records, who informed me that the "guys" had specifically requested yours truly to write the liner notes for the new album and that a cassette copy of same would be forthcoming. Putting aside personal rancor, I gave "Aja" a listen. I have listened many times since. When they made their recording debut in 1972, Steely Dan was more or less a conventional rock group comprised of six active members. Almost immediately, the roster began to shrink until, by the time "Pretzel Logic" was released, the two composers appeared to be dependent on the performances of a baffling array of crack session regulars. Thanks to their deliberately vague manner of listing album credits, it became virtually impossible to determine who was playing what on any given track (a practice that has persisted until now). This latest album, following on the hot heels of that depraved and cynical masterpiece, "The Royal Scam", represents a departure from the puerile brooding that has distinguished Donald and Walter's work up to now. In this writers opinion, "Aja" signals the onset of a new maturity and a kind of solid professionalism that is the hallmark of an artist who has "arrived".

Side One opens with "Black Cow", a catchy disco-funk number that defies categorization. Bitterly sarcastic lyrics are underpinned by cloying jazz-crossover harmonies, the whole thing propelled by an infectious, trendy beat. Featured here is Victor Feldman's thoughtful electric piano solo followed shortly by Tom Scott's earthy tenor sax. The tile cut, "Aja", is a rather ambitious work in which a latin-tinged pop song is inexplicably expanded into some sort of sonata or suite. The result is a rambling eight-minute epic highlighted by Wayne Shorter's stately, rhapsodic solo which descends gracefully into a recapitulation of the vocal theme. The sensitive, sometimes explosive performance by drummer Steve Gadd may be his finest recorded work to date. The side closes with "Deacon Blues", an Edge City ballad enlivened only by Pete Christlieb's haunting tenor work and a tasty chart by Scott.

Side Two finds vocalist Donald Fagen admonishing yet another lover in a danceable ditty entitled "Peg". Jay Graydon's electric guitar threatens after the initial refrain. The composer's describe this piece as a "pantonal 13 bar blues with chorus". That's the kind of double- talk they were giving me towards he end. We are now confronted by a stunning feet of pop legerdemain. "Home At Last", on first listening an unpretentious roadhouse shuffle, turns out upon close inspection to be a minor marvel of poetic grace and structural economy. At this late date, it would hardly seem possible for an artist to take Homer's immortal tale, so thoroughly exploited by Joyce in 1922, and educe from it new insights - especially within the narrow scope provided by the medium of popular song. Beneath the attractive, effortless flow of words and music, one discovers a lyric presence and fineness of perception that is a rare thing on disc nowadays. I can't say enough about this lovely rhythm-and-blues poem. "I Got The News", a Manhattan-jukebox thump-along, serves as a vehicle for the coy pianistics of Victor Feldman, whose labors are capriciously undermined by Walter Becker's odd, Djangoesque guitar and pointlessly obscene lyric. The final cut, "Josie", exemplifies Steely Dan's remarkable versatility. Rich with images of random violence, copulation, drug abuse, loitering with intent and other misdemeanors, this sociopathic jump tune is sure to become a classic zebra in the annals of Punkadelia.

Michael Phalen