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Pif Magazine
Pif Magazine |
Much has been written about Steely Dan (Walter Becker and Donald Fagen) as jazz/pop tunesmiths and accomplished arrangers, but I'm focusing here on their lyrics, which have also been pored over by many a '70s music critic in great speculative detail. Perhaps with my wealth of literary knowledge I can bring some new insight into the mysterious lyrics of the Dan. Probably though, I'll just muddy the waters even more and enjoy doing it. Join me, won't you? Becker and Fagan are masters of the cryptic short-short-story lyric. Most Steely Dan songs drop us into the middle of some elaborate plot that is either stream-of-consciously mused upon by the song's main character, or subjectively sketched by some leery omniscient narrator. Steely Dan gets all caught up in the details without ever bothering to explain the context. Such is their genius. This approach would never fly in a novel, but it works marvelously in a lyric. We get all the charm, atmosphere, ambiance, and mystique of a pithy hard-boiled detective novel without ever knowing whodunit, much less what they dun. While other narrative lyricists (Don McLean, John Prine) strive to pen the Hamlet of their genre, Steely Dan settles for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. They skip the headlines and turn straight to page 15 for the back story – "While Holding Entire Town Hostage with Guns and Explosives, Son of Oregon Accountant Discovers in His Mind the Mechanized Hum of Another World. Details at 11." By focusing on such marginal minutiae, Steely Dan gives us "the rest of the story," the part that even Paul Harvey doesn't know. Umberto Eco might observe that Steely Dan reveals the rose's proper name. (Her name is Darling, by the way.) Cyberpunk pioneer William Gibson (coined the term "cyberspace," sadly remembered for the screenplay to Johnny Mnemonic) cites Steely Dan as one of his primary literary inspirations. Ironically, Steely Dan cite beat novelist William Burroughs (coined the term "heavy metal," sadly remembered as the old guy in the Nike ads) as one of their primary inspirations. Becker and Fagen read Gibson. I wonder if Gibson reads Burroughs. Regardless, there is a lot of literature orbiting the Steely Dan nexus. And you thought it was just some guy not wanting Ricky to lose that number. Becker and Fagen met at Bard College, Fagen graduating with an English major. The band has always attracted inordinately well-read listeners. One extensive Web site devoted entirely to interpreting Steely Dan lyrics includes allusions ranging from Homer to Ken Kesey. The more obscure the lyrics are, the more divergent and subjective their interpretations. Incidentally, "Aja" is the most obscure Steely Dan lyric. "Double helix in the sky tonight/ Throw out the hardware/ Let's do it right." Such specific vagueness keeps the code-breakers coming back (and back, and back). But we will do better to focus on the larger picture. Steely Dan's songs are mostly about addictive behavior - drinking, drugging, gambling, prostitution, and jazz. As a rule, I don't enjoy depressing music, but I'll take ironic realism over unfounded optimism any day. And when it comes to irony, Steely Dan delivers. These lyrics should be circulating in political pamphlets, or at least set to some sort of angst-ridden noise. Instead, they are couched in infective jazz pop tunes, many of which evince such a sparkling transcendent lightness as to be almost unbearable. These tunes are themselves a drug. Such musical eloquence coupled with such scalding cultural criticism and unapologetic narrative obscurity makes for one danged subversive listening experience. In response to "We are the world/ We are the children," Steely Dan observes, "A world become one, of salads and suns/ Only a fool would say that." In response to "I found the greatest love of all inside of me," the Dan ask, "Will you still have a song to sing when the razor boy comes and takes your fancy things away? Will you still be singing it on that cold and windy day." Is the razor boy the grim reaper of cocaine addiction? So some say. THE CHARACTERS How two Yankee college grads sussed up and represented the dregs of urban humanity more evocatively than either Raymond Chandler or Francis Ford Coppola is difficult to speculate. Steely Dan's lyrics are populated with murderers, drug runners, drug addicts, small-time L.A. fashion playa's, yokels, shell-shocked Vietnam vets, washed up negro jazz greats, and every 9-5 schmo next door dreaming of lounging poolside at a plush Miami hotel sipping coconut-cradled, umbrella-laden daiquiris while his wife remains conveniently back in Hackensack washing the dishes. But rather than generalize and dilute, let's meet some of the actual characters themselves. From your hazy '70s radio days, you may already know Peg, Josie, Rikki, Nineteen, and Deacon Blues. But have you met Lonnie the kingpin, Felonius the gentleman loser, or the corpse of William Wright? Do you know Buzz, Charlie Freak, Doctor Wu, Mr. LaPage, Carlo, Kid Charlemagne, and my man Pepe? Let's not forget the women – Rose darling, Snake Mary, Lady Bayside, Louise (pearl of the quarter), Broadway Duchess, Ruthie, Lucy, Aja, and Jack's Eurasian bride? Yo, my funky one, any major dude with half a heart surely would tell you to include Hoops McCann (you know, schoolyard superman? Jungle Jim?), Jack with his radar, Klaus and The Rooster, Babs and Clean Willie, Chino and Daddy Gee, the Mayor, The Archbishop, and Jive Miguel. And what list would be complete without the historical figures – Napoleon, Good Kings Richard and John, the Queen of Spain, Cathy Berberian, 'Retha Franklin, Mr. Parker's Band, Elvis, The Eagles, and yes, even Steely Dan. It hardly seems possible that all these divergent characters could be introduced in a mere seven pop albums. How could a reference to, say, The Eagles fit unobtrusively into a pop lyric? So glad you asked. The speaker of "Everything You Did" catches his wife and "the bastard" in acts unmentionable (and indeed unmentioned in the lyric itself). He reprehends his wanton spouse thusly, "I never knew you were a roller skater. You gonna show me later. Turn up The Eagles, the neighbors are listening." Too classic. What about experimental operatic diva Cathy Berberian? What role does she play in this sordid menagerie? "Tobacco they grow in Peking. In the Year of the Locust you'll see a sad thing. Even Cathy Berberian knows there's one roulade she can't sing. Dumb luck, my friend, won't suck me in this time." Interpretation? – "The inevitability of bad luck is chance's only surety," said the wise gambling man to the double-or-nothing Reno seductress – or so I infer. I imagine twelve trippin' hippies gathered around the feet of Becker and Fagen. One bold disciple pipes up and asks, "Masters, explain to us the meaning of the parable of the locust and the unsingable roulade." The fact that this band had at least one song in the top 40 throughout most of the '70s is one of this century's strangest pop culture anomalies. THE SETTINGS
It's no surprise that the Dan mentions Vegas, Hollywood, San Francisco, Detroit, L.A., Chicago, Kansas City, and "that New York City." More particular but still not too strange are Annandale, William and Mary, Barrytown, Brooklyn, and Harlem (or somewhere the same). But who would have thought we'd be shown Paraguay, Japan, Peking, Ghana, Guadalajara, and Biscayne Bay (where the Cuban gentlemen sleep all day)? Drugs arrive direct from Lhasa (far from the world we know), gaucho amigos crop up from Rio, and deal-makers jet in from Bogota. We're shipped in from the city of St. John, and then it's off to Barbados just for the ride. We slide from Boston down to Scarsdale, down to Muswellbrook, and out to Hackensack. Then we find ourselves back in Oregon, touring the Southland, on the water down in New Orleans, on the Rio Grande, driving through the ruins of Santa Fe, and signing in on Mizar Five. In town, if we're not pointing our car down Seventh Avenue, we're on Fifty-Second Street, Magnolia Boulevard, or out on Avenue D. We go down to Greene Street, stomp on the avenue by Radio City, drive west on Sunset to the sea, and walk alone down the miracle mile. We move through these suburban streets, go out driving on Slow Hand Row, and somehow find streets still unseen. Streets and cities are just the half of it. Steely Dan lyrics are our ticket to a variety of improper places as well, from a tower room at Eden Rock to the shrine of the martyr, from Johnny's playroom to the killing floor. We're shown the Guernsey Fair, the Washington Zoo, the clinic on the hill, and the neighborhood liquor store. As we watch the gray men dive from the fourteenth floor, we can also see that ditch out in the valley that they're digging just for me. If we're not at the package store, we're passed out on the barroom floor. And speaking of fine establishments, there's Anthony's Bar and Grill, the Cafe D'Escargot, Camarillo, Rudy's, and Mr. Chow's. We could be down at the Lido, here at the Western World, high in the Custerdome, at the Grotto in the greasy chair, or jumping out of our easy chair. We may land in the Barrio, outside the stadium, or near the freeway. At worst, we're hounded down to the bottom of a bad town amid the ruins, by the blackened wall, in the back room, stopping to stare at Kid Charlemange's technicolor motor home. At best we're under banyan trees here at the dude ranch above the sea. We dream of the land of milk and honey, the Promised Land, a world where all is free, only to discover – it just couldn't be. "Any World" best expresses Steely Dan's philosophy of place: Since the immediate world is too harsh, and the imagined world is too distant, any other world will do.
THE PLOTS By now, you can imagine how many plots and subplots are represented by these lyrics. Major themes include the appealing but unattainable peace promised by the Orient, the zombie-fying of America, the exacting toll of addiction, and jazz. Rather than get all into it and write a book, I will just brazenly generalize each album. Can't Buy A Thrill is about beginning to reap what you sow, looking for a way out, and not finding one. "There's fire in the hole and nothing left to burn. I'd love to run out now. There's nowhere left to turn." Countdown to Ecstasy is about the foolish women for whom you care, how they disregard your advice and sympathy, and how that makes you feel impotent and cynical. "Torture is the main attraction. I don't need that kind of action. You don't have to dance for me. I've seen your dance before." Pretzel Logic is a country & western/be-bop album about poverty. "'It's a beggars life,' said the Queen of Spain, but don't tell it to a poor man. 'Cause he's got to kill for every thrill the best he can." Katy Lied is about all the good, shining, beautiful things. You know they won't last, but you wish they would. "A vision of a child returning. A kingdom where the sky is burning." The Royal Scam is about the great American dream. "You zombie. Be born again, my friend. Won't you sign in stranger?" Aja is about making the most of the strange, imperfect hand you have been dealt. If reality cannot supply optimism, perhaps delusion will suffice. "Well the danger on the rocks is surely past. Still I remain tied to the mast. Could it be that I have found my home at last?" Gaucho is about the L.A. glam scene. (Beck's Midnite Vultures is Gaucho's red-headed step-child.) "Hollywood, I know your middle name. Who inspires your fabled fools? That's my claim to fame." I hope you have enjoyed this grossly superficial analysis of the thinking man's band of the '70s. If you are a thinking person yourself, do not let the light jazz enthusiasts and conspiracy-theorizing potheads scare you away from Steely Dan. They are our band, not theirs. We literati are welcome in their world. Indeed, it was constructed for us. Just make sure you hand over the contents of your Gucci handbag to the nearest zombie before climbing into that sweet, low-swinging rickshaw. APPENDIX Tell us what you think. Email talkback@pifmagazine.com Curt Cloninger enjoys Indonesian ox-cart racing and the odd falafel potsticker. His hobbies include shirking, skimming, and falsifying. Curt received his masters in lemming reproduction analysis from the University of Stockholm, where he also excelled at skeet shooting and racquetball. He graduated on April 1.
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