Resurrection

Alive In America

Steely Dan

MY HEROES AIN’T DEAD AFTER ALL: They're alive. Alive in America. Yes, they’re old. The kind that’s good. The kind that’s reunited. Reunited oldies but goodies. Instead of youthful kinetic exuberance, good judgment borne of experience takes its place. Discipline. Polish. Things some might associate in a knee-jerk reaction with boring. Actually, boredom does seem to creep in certain songs (Bodhisattva, Sign In Stranger, for instance) but sheer talent and the sophistication of the music keeps ennui from settling.

Some people might question the necessity of a live Steely Dan record at this point in time, this late, more than a decade after their breakup. If the Beatles, minus a “live” John Lennon, were able to reunite and record new songs for a double-album release, at that, there’s no reason why an intact (as far as creative core is concerned) Steely Dan can’t put out a concert album of all vintage (except for Book of Liars) material.

The biggest disappointment I have with this record is that there are too many brilliant songs in the Steely Dan discography that are not here: Do It Again, Brooklyn (Owes The Charmer Under Me), My Old School, With A Gun, Any Major Dude Will Tell You, Dr. Wu, Any World That I’m Welcome To, Bad Sneakers, Throw Back The Little Ones, The Caves Of Altamira, Don’t Take Me Alive, The Royal Scam, Haitian Divorce, Black Cow, Deacon Blues, to name some.

It irritates to realize that the choice of their concert repertoire seems to hinge on the instrumentalists’ opportunity to show off virtuosity. Then you wish again that the original members and crack session men who played in the studio records were in the touring lineup. Case in point: the solo guitar lead in Reelin’ In The Years. When you have listened to it countless times, the song ingrained in your consciousness, you hear a live version that’s obviously different; the classic lead by Jeff “Skunk” Baxter (some sources say it’s by Elliot Randall) whom Jimmy Page admits to being his all-time favorite guitar solo, being rendered unrecognizable. One can’t help but be dismayed, longing for the original. That is, the original song and lineup; Donald Fagen and Walter Becker being the only ones left of the studio Can’t Buy A Thrill era band.

The nature of Steely Dan as a jazz-influenced pop/rock unit probably inhibits them from the stale gesture of performing cepra live renditions – jazz music as spontaneous, as unencumbered by the orthodox rules of the music establishment as it is. Only purists would throw the “Don’t fix it if it ain’t broken,” dictum at you.

Not that all the material in this album stray far from the original. Josie, except for the brief ’70s arena-rock-like drum solo, is surprisingly faithful to the studio cut. Not that there aren’t any shining moments. In Third World Man, Fagen’s voice is a panther stalking prey, graceful, sinuous, powerful, wound tight, ready to pounce. The lead guitar dives and grapples. The languid rhythm section ideal for the lead guitar intrusion. All elements producing a solid whole.

Perhaps it’s intentional. Fagen calls their seven studio records “failed experiments” and maybe he and Becker simply want to wash their hands and distance themselves from their past product – an arrogant brush-off or honest admission. Even if that’s the case, those seven “failed experiments” are worth 70 Duran Duran, Petshop Boys and Depeche Mode platinum records put together. Those bands can base their whole careers on Steely Dan’s two worst LPs.

Part of the fun listening to Steely Dan songs is deciphering the lyrics. Fagen and Becker being the purveyors of esoterica and arcana, the strangled intensity of Fagen’s singing makes code-cracking far from easy.

Analyzing the reason for the release a live-concert record is easier: They have gotten over their boredom with each other and are now eager to start working on their eighth Steely Dan studio album. You wish! PJT/February 1996, Horizons

Note: Steely Dan did release an eighth studio record: the Grammy winning Two Against Nature – a middling effort which managed to beat Eminem’s The Marshall Mathers LP for Record of the Year in 2001 besides winning three other Grammies. Plenty of guilty middle-aged National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences members out there with a predilection to overcompensate.