The Dan Is Old

MY HEROES ARE DEAD AND I'VE got to get this off my chest. How many times have you read a record review extolling the musical virtues of a veteran musician, how a certain artist unfailingly and gracefully grows with age, exploring tried and tested musical byways and virgin territories with equal elan?

Donald Fagen, who along with Walter Becker formed the nucleus of Steely Dan and recorded seven of the most distinctively elegant albums of the rock ‘n’ roll era, releases only his second solo record after Steely Dan temporarily broke up in 1981 just as the vinyl presses of Gaucho got cold and putting two singles in the pop charts. Those who were charmed by Fagen’s solo debut, The Nightly, will likely be less than enamored this time.

Nightfly, which sounds a lot like the whole Steely Dan catalogue in a single package, may not be a radical intergalactic jump from the stylistic adventurism of the sinister duo, but at least it isn’t boring. The same cannot be said of Kamakiriad.

From the inlay card notes: “Kamakiriad is an album of eight related songs. The literal action takes place a few years in the future, near the millennium.

"In the first song, Trans-Island Skyway, the narrator tells us he is about to embark on a journey in his new dream-car, a custom-tooled Kamakiri. It’s built for the new century: steam-driven, with a self-contained vegetable garden and a radio link with the Tripstar routing satellite.

“The next six songs describe his adventures along the way. The last song, Teahouse On The Track, the narrator lands in a dismal Flytown where he must decide whether to bail out of to rally and continue moving into the unknown.”

Fagen’s (and for that matter, Becker’s) best material was done when he was with Steely Dan. There is no indication that they can top their collaborative oeuvre. There is a creative energy that is only unleashed when one is with the right people or group. That energy inevitably siphons off when the alliance ends. The syndrome is demonstrated in the Bread-less David Gates, who resorted to writing sappier ballads with less bite, and in Jimmy Page, who could produce nothing but mediocre blues-based songs apart from Led Zeppelin. It is no coincidence that one of the brighter spots on Kamakiriad is Snowbound, co-written by Fagen and Becker. There is also the languidly graceful Florida Room, composed by Fagen and his wife Libby Titus.

There is something self-destructive in the way Fagen writes a melody. The first bar works out fine; suddenly the appeal level drops off. Snowbound stands out because the melody builds alongside fluid storytelling. This is how Fagen and Becker operate in Steely Dan. Fagen can’t do better than Steely Dan. He should follow his own advice in Trans-Island Skyway: “Let’s talk about the good times.”

The song titles in 11 Tracks of Whack strung together can tell a story on a chapter of the life of Becker who had a girlfriend die of a drug overdose in his house. He was sued for damages by the OD victim’s mother but was acquitted and cleared of all liabilities.

With a little grammatical license and inserted phrases, the story goes this way – Becker found himself Down In The Bottom after Steely Dan broke up and he had his Junkie Girl OD. Becker had to Surf And/Or Die in the courtroom. Lucky for him, he had his Book Of Liars. Lucky Henry, that’s Becker, a Hard-Up Case and a Cringemaker. Although he admits his Girlfriend to be almost My Waterloo that has made him This Moody Bastard. What Hat Too Flat means and who or what Little Kawai is, is anybody’s guess. PJT/November 1995, Horizons