Events

[POP] Steely Dan seems like a pretty simple equation for radio listeners familiar with singles like “Do It Again,” “Reeling in the Years,” “FM,” and “Hey Nineteen.” But the writing of creative partners Donald Fagen and Walter Becker is significantly more nuanced than casual listening lets on, consisting of clever short stories with oddball characters, noir humor, and cutting cynicism. It takes a while for Steely Dan (which refers to a dildo in William Burroughs’ Naked Lunch) to fully penetrate. There’s a sarcastic tang and/or some dripping irony attached to their viewpoints, and desperation is never lurking far behind. The material has been sparse—nine albums stretched over 44 years—but it derives longevity from its enigmatic nature, leaving listeners to ponder how nothing is quite as it seems within the context of a Becker/Fagen composition. That it all gets showcased within some of the finest jazz-pop ever recorded is the proverbial sucker-punch. To celebrate the Dan’s return to the Seneca Niagara Casino in Niagara Falls on Friday, April 29—for which they’ll expand into 13 pieces—we’ve compiled a list of some striking Steely Dan characters.  

The Gaucho (“Gaucho,” 1980)

The ‘bodacious cowboy’ is wearing borrowed clothes (a spangled leather poncho and elevator shoes) for a shindig at someplace called the Custerdome, and he’s causing a serious rift between the narrator (who seems very concerned about making the right impression) and the friend or lover who brought him along. The gaucho is such a bummer, in fact, the narrator would rather drop him by the freeway than let him sleep on the floor.

Josie (“Josie,” 1978)

Was Josie in jail? Seems like it. Regardless, she’s been away, but she’s coming home — and they’re going to party like it’s nineteen-seventy-something. The debauchery is real: when Josie comes home there’ll be bike races, an orgy (maybe on the beach?), and some good old fashioned violence. It’s a celebration befitting a woman that, “…prays like a Roman with her eyes on fire.”

Rikki (“Rikki Don’t Lose That Number,” 1974)

You tell yourself you’re not my kind/But you don’t even know your mind…

Genderless Rikki seems to be having some identity issues. Maybe he’s gay. Maybe she’s an addict. Maybe they’re in love. Rikki wants to leave, but someone’s hoping for a change of heart. The band’s biggest selling single asks more questions than it answers.

The Show Business Kids (“Showbiz Kids,” 1973)

These obnoxious little jerks have so much: the house on the corner, all the booze they need, shapely bods, Steely Dan T-shirts… they’re outrageous. They make movies of themselves and don’t give a fuck about anybody else. All of which is juxtaposed against the sleeping poor of Las Vegas (which the backup vocals morph, Lenny Bruce-style, into ‘lost wages’). As social commentary about the excesses of fame-obsessed youths, this tune is more relevant now than it was when it was recorded. And Rickie Lee Jones does a fierce cover.

The Bookkeeper’s Son (“Don’t Take Me Alive,” 1976)

A twist on Dog Day Afternoon. In what appears to be a hostage situation, the bookkeeper’s son knows he’s untrustworthy. He doesn’t want to shoot anyone, but he crossed his old man back in Oregon, so… when backed into a corner, all bets are off. He’s got a case of dynamite and feels time is on his side. He seems eerily ready to die.

Dr. Wu/Katy (“Doctor Wu,” 1975)

In one of the duo’s most debated (and seldom performed) vignettes, a love triangle develops. The narrator is uncertain whether he can trust Katy (who lies) or the Doctor, who seems far away in an altered state. One of them is apparently a metaphor for heroin (a recurring character in the Steely vortex), which adds to the overall sense of unease and deception. 

Kid Charlamagne (“Kid Charlamagne,” 1976)

It’s widely held that this was written about Owsley Stanley (a.k.a. Bear),  the legendary LSD chemist that kept the Grateful Dead vibrating in psychedelic splendor for many years (and also worked, perhaps less successfully, as their sound engineer). The Dan’s take on “Smuggler’s Blues” has an enticing disco tinge to it, spiked with hilarious cutaways (“Everyone stopped to stare at your Technicolor motor home”) and palpable paranoia.  You can’t help but root for the guy.

Peg (“Peg,” 1978)

Our narrator is smitten, but it’s difficult to discern if he had a prior relationship with Peg, if he’s a fan from afar, or maybe even a stalker. Much has been written about the complex backing vocal arrangement (supplied by Michael McDonald) and rhythm section interplay on this track, and less about the lyrics. But one idea that holds some water is that it’s inspired by British actress Peg Entwistle, who committed suicide by jumping to her death from the ‘H’ on the famed Hollywoodland sign after completing the one film she appeared in, Thirteen Women. It was her big debut, indeed, and a suicide letter was found in her purse.

The Deacon (“Deacon Blues,” 1978)

Perhaps the quintessential Steely Dan character, and aging faux-hipster that yearns to leave some kind of legacy, to not be forgotten. A parallel is drawn between University of Alabama’s Crimson Tide football team and the need for all losers to have equally grandiose names, hence Deacon Blues. Becker and Fagen both dreamt of becoming jazz musicians and, despite their success otherwise, felt like failures in that regard. The Deacon dreams of going out in a loser’s blaze of glory, perpetually drunk and in a car wreck. Further irony exists in the extensive airplay this song gets in public retail establishments; the mellow, neo-cocktail vibe makes it seem like great background music. In that sense, it’s impossible to forget. The Deacon wins in the end.

Mr. LaPage (“Everyone’s Gone to the Movies,” 1975)

Mr. LaPage comes to us before the sex offender registry and behaves like a scene right out of Capturing the Friedmans, luring young ladies from the neighborhood over to watch vintage porn reels.  “C’mon!” he whispers as a snaky little saxophone riff wafts by. With a steel drum backbeat that’d be appropriate for a family vacation scene, this is perhaps the darkest humor in the Steely canon.