Steely Dan have always been the elephant in the room around here, responsible for my fondness (obsession) for musics of a smooth and greasy character in recent years. It wasn't always this way. I'd long given them the grapefruit face, holding them with the same contempt I reserve for jam bands and subway preachers. And then suddenly, a switch flipped. There was no blinding light or burning whatever. A friend dropped their catalogue on me all at once, and as I dug in, I found that my ears were tuned directly into it.In retrospect, it shouldn't be surprising. There's the snarky lyricizing and raised-eyebrow perspective that I reflexively appreciate from my Zappa days. Couple that with the prog-precise musicianship of their many collaborators. And then, what could be the dealbreaker, that fusion-y '70s-ness — exquisite chords, mustaches, cocaine, and perfectionism. Ironic or not, there it is. And even that irony has its layers. You love it or you don't. And I love it. A star in the constellation that stretches across my musical cosmos.
It's a tough choice for which tune to go with. I should devote a week to them, maybe two. But this one is pretty instant in its gratification. And yes ma'am, that is one Michael McDonald on the backing vox.
Steely Dan - Rose Darling
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