By Jordan Hoffman
LeisureSuit Media
To anyone who thought that Steely Dan couldn’t be relevant in 2000, I have news for you: they were never relevant.
To anyone who thought Steely Dan would’ve lost their outsider’s wit and poisonous sarcasm by 2000, I offer the opening line from “Gaslighting Abbie,” the first track on their triumphant comeback album Two Against Nature: “One plush summer you come to me ripe and ready and bad through and through, with that deep mystical soul synergy pumping steady between me and you.”
Placement of the word “synergy” has nothing to do with needing three syllables. “Synergy” is the perfect word, the angry word, the word that, if you’re paying attention, shades the rest of the phrase with the perspective of the modern day millionaire, the fin de millennium mogul, the hopeless empty suit cum empty soul … you know, the guy Steely Dan has been singing about since Can’t Buy A Thrill. “Synergy” is just the sort of word an establishment rock band would use in a vapid Adult Contemporary song, especially one with such well-arranged horns, so The Dan thought they could sneak it in below the radar. As William Gibson noted in a surprisingly readable ATN article, only Becker and Fagen can give you the special surreal moment of hearing a song about a middle-aged Scarsdale man coking up before a night of hymen-busting playing softly in the background on the Shop-Rite PA system.
And finally, to anyone who thinks two old Jewish farts from New York can’t craft the perfect song anymore, well, hell, let’s just go down the list of all nine.
Two Against Nature opens with the aforementioned “Gaslighting Abbey.” The unmistakable Dan-ish beat, the pasteurized funk, the groove to perfection. Becker himself handles the thumping bass and tickling guitar fills. If this isn’t soul music, then nothing is. Like about half of the Dan’s collected work, I have no idea what this song is about on an explicit level. Emotionally, it represents utter perfectionism, a perfect opening track.
“What A Shame About Me,” apart from hitting home about an NYU graduate not fulfilling his dreams while his classmates excel, maintains the groove, but, more importantly, is the album’s first example of the “golden chord progression” patented by The Dan ever since “Katy Lied.” Fagen hits the high nasal notes, harmonizing with three learned female backups. High point memory: “A major Jane Street sunrise and the goddess on the fire escape was you.” Current truth: “Alan owns a chain of Steamer Heavens, and Barry is a software King.”
Two Against Nature’s title track opens with some squeaking sax, a bossa-nova beat, a jabbed-out piano riff, and layers of horn, bass and percussion. I have no clue what this song is about, but I think it has something to do with odd religious ceremonies. It’s one of the most rhythm-heavy songs in the Dan’s entire catalogue. The horns fill in Zappa-“Hot Rats” style, and Becker’s leads are well-spaced. I think there’s a wurlitzer in here, too, but there’s so much going on I can’t be sure. Also, something the hushing power of sprinkled chicken water.
“Janie Runaway,” picking up where Steven Soderbergh’s The Limey leaves off, slams down a Stax-era bass-thump. A whimsical Fagen falsetto asks “Who makes the morning fabulous?” It’s the wonder-waif of Gramercy Park, an underage runway-runaway, gallivanting with rich old men, leaving her worried parents in North Florida. She has a friend named Melanie, she grabs take out from Dean and Deluca (I guess Mr. Chow’s is out-of-date?) She spends a weekend up at Binky’s place, she’ll make the traffic interesting, she’ll spend her birthday in Spain -— possibly. Possibly? You mean, Janie’s not the first!!! Chris Potter’s alto solo comes on like a taunting laugh at this revelation, then comes to a shocking halt. At four minutes and eight seconds, it’s by far the shortest cut on the album, perhaps the most biting.
“Almost Gothic,” is just a beautiful melody, reminiscent of “Deacon Blue” or “Your Gold Teeth II.” The horns puff quietly in a Bacharach mode, the changes surprise, the liquid Rhodes cools, Fagen croons as best he can (“I’m sizzling like an isotope.”) Straight-forward, it’s all about a special girl (“first she’s all feel, then she cools down, she’s pure science with a splash of black cat.”) It’s classic, timeless, in that 1965 way they did it back in 1974. I see zoom lenses, lots and lots of zoom lenses.
“Jack of Speed,” a mid-tempo groove which would have felt right at home toward the end of side two on “The Royal Scam,” may be the most straight-ahead rocker. I can see someone who claims not to like Steely Dan admitting that this cut is less than atrocious. The Jack himself is a shrouded figure, one last attempt on Becker & Fagen’s part to evoke Dean Moriarity. Becker cuts loose with one of the slickest solos of his recorded career.
“Cousin Dupree,” already a classic, weaves the yarn about the scrappy (ex-keyboardist in a rock n’ ska band) sleeping on his Aunt’s couch, lusting after his blooming cousin. Well, they used to play when they were three, so why not a kiss from her Cousin Dupree? He does his best to read the National Globe, but with all the washing of skis, well, you know how that goes. Drummer Leroy Clouden gets mad props for laying down the most solid of beats to Becker’s bass-funk. There’s some crazy instrument called a whistler buzzing around on here, too.
“Negative Girl,” the most complex track on the album, opens in some wild fusion space. Becker sub-contracts guitar and bass duties to Dean Parks, Paul Jackson Jr. and Tom Barney respectively. They get a little Metheny on our collective asses, and the vocal melody ventures off a bit into dissonance. Lots of sheet music scattered around the studio on this one, vocal harmonies shooting for something difficult here. Subject matter’s appropriate, and strangely to familiar: the difficult love of a “difficult girl,” with her doctors uptown and crying on the phone. I’m not sure if this song totally succeeds, but God bless The Dan for trying.
“West of Hollywood” closes the album out much like “King of The World” did on Countdown To Ecstasy. A fast and furious beat, transposed keys all over the place, building and building and permutating all the time. Chris Potter takes the most extended no-holds barred jazz solo on a Dan tune since Wayne Shorter did on Aja. Just as painterly is the evocation of spiritual death on the left coast. “I’m way deep into nothing special, riding the crest of a wave breaking just west of Hollywood.” It’s a wicked vision, Potter’s furious solo fades us out … leaving us, where?
Steely Dan will surely tour and tour big in support of this brilliant album. Will they then disappear for 19 more years? I don’t think so. The Becker and Fagen solo albums of the 19s — which, by the way, I used to think were good enough, but pale in comparison to Two Against Nature — were just test drives to get the groove back. And it’s back. When there’s this much talent, you can’t keep it bottled in for 19 years and expect only one release. It’s gonna get fun.
No comments yet.