Album Of The Day

Jan 11 2022

4

It's a quick shot, barely ten seconds. "I'm a fool-to-dooo your-dir-ty work, oh yeaaaaah! I don't want-to-dooo your dirty-work, no mo-o-ore." It's nighttime, the radio plays an old Steely Dan hit, and Tony Soprano is singing at the wheel as he drives somewhere. The endearing yet sociopathic mob boss has the same bored, weary eyes as ever, but that scene is probably the closest thing in the whole series to a moment showing him having the time of his life. Tony knows them oldies-but-goldies standards. And he knows it's always deeply pleasurable to sing along to one of those as they pop up between Journey and Cream on the car's radio. The thing is, would Tony Soprano enjoy *Countdown To Ecstasy* in the exact same way he enjoyed the early hits from Steely Dan's debut, *Can't Buy A Thrill*? Probably not. Very much a transitional effort leading the L.A. band towards the more refined soft-rock soundscapes for which they'll later be known for, *Countdown To Ecstasy* is maybe too sophisticated and left-field for Tony's more immediate, impulsive, 'it's-either-hit-or-miss', tastes. Not that Steely Dan would have cared, at least at the time. Having dumped co-singer/songwriter David Palmer (of "Dirty Work" fame) for this second album, now penning cryptic lyrics with a somewhat dystopian flavor (in keeping with the William Burroughs influence on their band's name), and electing for an ethereal cover that would nicely fit in Brian Eno's discography, Donald Fagen and Walter Becker took very much of a gamble here, even if the years that have passed since 1973 might have erased the extent in which those risks were actually *that* bold. First listens today indeed suggest Steely Dan was mostly a band perfectly content to rely on their earlier charts success and technical prowess to write and perform quite innocuous songs ranging from old rock'n'roll, country and rhythm and blues. Admittedly, they did spice things up by adding a fashionable form of prog-rock once in a while. If only said prog-rock didn't sound so irremediably tame compared to the Floyd or Can, this could have well turned up as a lengendary endeavor. Not in here, though, unfortunately. Such harsh preliminary assessment might not be the full picture, however. As subsequent spins soon reveal, this missed opportunity might actually be a blessing in disguise for amateurs of truly *original* sounds. And playing a huge part in this overall originality, you have the jazz inflexions throughout the album, either in the instrumentation (those vibes in "Razor Boy") or the chord changes, bringing a welcome uneasiness and chiaruscoro ambiguity to the whole shebang, very much in line with the dystopian atmoshere already evoked earlier. Opener "Bodhisattva" is a very striking example of such artful sprinklings. Starting as an old R'n'R standard not sounding too fresh or daring these days, with a vocal hook even bordering on parody or muzak, the track's five minutes still fly by, thanks to those unexpected chord changes, along with slyly imaginative bridges and a synth part whose glossy crispness does a great job as it finally circles around you like a flock of pixellated sparrows, forcing you to let your guard down in front of their aerial spectacle. If this is elevator music (make no mistake, it very much *is*), this might be the sort of elevator music you can hear in Stephen King's "dark tower", granted such tower has an elevator in the first place (can't recall, does it?). The irony that you felt under the surface at the start of the song ends up screaming at you toward its end, and quickly, you begin to reconsider how performative the track really is. Is this stuff *cheesy* music? Or is it a *semblance* of cheesy music, with a more sophisticated agenda behind it, even more shrewd and cunning given that Steely Dan have more or less managed to hide their true game until the very last minute? Retrospectively, it seems that Fagen and Becker have always aimed at straddling that fine line, being the sly, witty bastards that they are. Fans sometimes see in Steely Dan things that non-fans are unable to imagine or even comprehend while listening to their music for the first time. Sometimes it just takes one weird, off-kilter note in a guitar or keyboard solo to change the picture, as in the hard-bop but otherwise predictable and standardized "Your Gold Teeth". Other times, you find yourself being entranced by the implacable grooves of the rhythm section, even though the rest of the instrumentation sounds a little too nice and dandy overall. Not to say 'bland'. You know this is imaginative writing here, no matter what. Too bad you can't *feel* it sometimes. As a consequence, one could easily argue that the prog-rock flavors in Steely Dan's music would have gained from being a little more pronounced than they actually were. Or that a true manifestation of genuine psychedelia during those very specific forays would have helped them faring better today, at least. But maybe it is unfair to compare apples and oranges, and expect from Fagen and Becker a program that was far too much in line with their contemporary day and age--it's a program the band visibly had no genuine interest in, for better or for worse. And ironically, Steely Dan's overall sound was nothing but ahead of the curve in 1973, foretelling the set of styles countless "mainstream" soft rock bands would embrace later on, from Eagles to Supertramp (not to mention other 'neat-sounding' acts even further down the line, during the eighties--Dire Straits, anyone?). Yet there is *another* layer of irony to point out, at least from our vantage point in the 21st century, and this one is far more cruel than the first. None of those groundbreaking aspects objectively present during the course of *Countdown To Ecstasy* are easily discernible today, after all that has transpired since. The music is good in this album, there's no arguing about that. But whether it is still *relevant* remains to be seen. A good chunk of the tracks are saving the record from complete stylistic oblivion though, first because Steely Dan's pop-leaning, post-modernist agenda actually does conceptual wonders from time to time. Or, on the contrary, because the band *also* knew how to drop that agenda in key points of the record so as to focus on the music first and foremost. The mock-country highlight "Pearl Of The Quarter" for instance, is a convincing exercise in style, with its evocative albeit over-the-top steel guitar. And "Show Biz Kids" is a somewhat linear, overlong jam that's probably a little too on-the-nose, but it's stiil part of that interesting postmodern group of songs, thanks to its wry lyrics about poverty (and the fact that "Steely Dan T-shirts" won't save you from it). If nothing else, such attempts are showing how smart and topically meaningful the band actually intended to be. And in the more straightforward tracks, you have rhythm 'n blues homages such as "My Old School", whose Motown-sounding backing vocals suffuse much needed life to the proceedings. But most of all, you have two stunners, not hits per se, but still the liveliest tracks of the whole program. As a centerpiece of the record, "The Boston Rag"' evokes a sense of nostalgia only belied by the animated performance that supports it. And closer "King Of The World" is an apt, skittering conclusion for the countdown uttered in the album's title, a promised "ecstasy" here tainted by heartbreaking descriptions of a post-nuclear America where said "kings of the world" are actually none but a scattered group of survivors slowly dying from radiation poisoning. From the barren realm of The Dark Towers, we've plunged right into the waste lands of The Stand, but the overall effect is the same. And yes, the shakespearian references do help set the appropriate, despondent mood, finally revealing that the titular countdown was nothing but a countdown to nuclear annihilation. I bet not a lot of listeners saw that one coming, whether today or at the time--even though the cover was an ominous sign of the disaster about to surge. *Gravity's Rainbow*'s Thomas Pynchon, would surely have appreciated such a nice touch here. Wasn't Pynchon's mammoth published in 1973 anyway? If a rock album cover could have been used for thsi novel, the one of *Countdown To Ecstasy* would have done a fine job paying homage to its grim-but-carnival-like contents, if not the music itself. To be honest, however, all the tragic post-apocalyptic memorabilia displayed by Fagen in that song is NOT the first reason why the latter should be singled out, along with "The Boston Rag". The real reason is simple, as simple as a back-to-basics New Jersey mob boss's playlist. And the reason is that those tracks are catchy and direct enough to allow you to sing along to them, in spite of the other jazzy flourishings out there. This does not lessen the other merits of "King Of The World", and yes indeed, the admirable guitar interlacing in its introduction is still very much in keeping with the other sophisticated arrangements thoughout the album. But here you have that extra cherry on the cake, and you can eat it too: a glorious, roaring, heartfelt, take-no-quarters chorus. Sometimes Tony Sopranos was right, at least when it came to music. It's not always necessary to split hairs if you want to have a good time. Life's too short for this, with or without a nuclear apocalypse looming on the horizon. [[Number of albums I listened to from the list: 3 Albums left to listen to: 998 Number of albums I've found genuinely relevant: 0 Number of different albums you should *probably* listen to before you die: 1 (so counting this one out, maybe) Number of different albums you should *definitely* listen to before you die: 2]

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Aug 16 2021

Countdown To Ecstasy

Steely Dan

1973

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