MAY 2004

Reelin' In The Years With Steely Dan.
By Pete Fornatale

In 1969, two disillusioned Bard College students, Walter Becker and Donald Fagan, left school and set out to sell their quirky, hook-driven songs on Tin Pan Alley. They proceeded to write a series of "cheesy, unrecordable songs" but struck gold in the studio with their debut album Can't Buy A Thrill and its follow-ups, Countdown To Ecstasy and Pretzel Logic. The pair did in fact churn out some classic radio hits after all: "Reelin' In The Years," "Do It Again," "Dirty Work," and "Rikki Don't Lose That Number."
In 1975, The Dan began working exclusively with session musicians and redefined rock, creating a genre of jazz tinged tunes that incorporated rock hooks and melodies in a way none had dared try before. In fact, Steely Dan is still doing what no other band has dared to try.
Their albums -- Katy Lied, The Royal Scam, Aja, and Goucho, not only went multi-platinum, but also became world wide classics, cementing Steely Dan's place in musical history. In 1980, Becker and Fagan split up to devote time to solo projects. In the mid-1990s, Steely Dan reformed with dazzling success: its first solo album, Two Against Nature, swept the 2001 Grammy Awards, winning four times, including Album of the Year. (One month later, the duo was inducted into The Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame.)

Pete Fornatale: Comment on your Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame induction.

Walter Becker: Our somewhat laughable campaign to be included in this dubious institution was eventually successful. We were expecting a sleaze fest and we weren't disappointed.

PF: How did Steely Dan become the darling of the Grammys?

WB: It just worked out that way.

Donald Fagan: We were like the French movie they stick in for Best Picture [at the Oscars] that never wins.

WB: I think it served their needs.

DF: It was a problem for them to give it to Eminem. We have taboo subjects too, but we're a little more polite about our taboo subjects.

PF: Let's go back to the beginning. Donald, when did you first lay eyes on Walter?

DF: I was a freshman at Bard College. Walter was there already, a junior. I had gone with the mistaken notion that there would be a lot of good musicians there. There were a lot of people who looked like good musicians.

WB: We got along well from the beginning. He got a look at my record collection -- we discovered we listened to the same things, the same radio station, and had been to a lot of the same concerts.

PF: When did you start writing together?

WB: Pretty much right away. Silly pop songs, then some jazzy pop stuff. We left Bard under a cloud of academic mediocrity. We came up with the idea of selling some of our songs to pay the bills. We went to the Brill building, but all the producers were in Nashville or somewhere at a convention. There was no one important around.

PF: You've never put your pictures on the covers of your albums. Why?

WB: You're looking right at us. I wonder why you would wonder?

DF: It has something to do with the stance of Steely Dan. We wanted to keep the focus on the music.

PF: A lot of what you've done flies in the face of convention.

WB: All these years, we're still doing something we were doing in the '70s. No one else has really picked up on it.

DF: We're further apart from mainstream music now. It shifted from audio to
video . . .

WB: That would have ruled us out right there!

PF: What older material do you still enjoy performing?

WB: Most of the show is older stuff. We pick ones that have aged gracefully. Some songs like "Deacon Blues" are fun to play so we always play them. We'll mix in some current songs.

PF: How much was your latest album, Everything Must Go, informed by the events of 9-11?

WB: It had a collective impact on the collective consciousness of New Yorkers. It had an impact on our choice of material.

DF: You want to blame somebody . . . fate, god, kismet . . .

WB: The human condition.

PF: "Godwhacker" -- how nihilistic is it?

WB: You could make a strong case that bumping off the anonymous donor of our existence would be a kind of civic upgrade on the cosmic level.

PF: Fifty years ago the phrase "beat generation" was coined. Is that a period you identify with?

WB: Yeah, it was more of a "you had to be there" sort of thing.

DF: Essentially it was more specifically trying to get to the unconsciousness of the times -- the '50s were very superficial.

PF: Donald, did your persona in Night Fly, have an influence in that era?

DF: Sure . . . the most important influence was jazz and black music -- rhythm and blues.

PF: You are not part of Steely Dan -- you are Steely Dan.

WB: We are of, by, and for Steely Dan.

PF: What have you learned?

DF: Never buy a hat through the mail.

WB: One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small.

Pete Fornatale, who will be a regular contributor to The Independent this summer, is a respected rock historian who revolutionized FM radio as a disc jockey on WNEW and later on K-Rock. You can hear Pete every week on his nationally syndicated radio program (or on XM Radio) "Mixed Bag Radio." Learn more by visiting www.mixedbagradio.com