Showing posts with label Michael McDonald. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Michael McDonald. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

The Best Steely Dan Album



Steely Dan always played to the beat of a different drummer.

In a musical era that was dominated by hard rock, soft rock and disco, Steely Dan stood out as one of the few truly unique bands of the 1970s, which was kind of ironic given that it wasn't until "Katy Lied," the album that was released in March of 1975, that Steely Dan began working primarily with studio musicians.

"Usually, such a studied recording method would drain the life out of each song," wrote Stephen Thomas Erlewine for Allmusic.com, "but that's not the case with Katy Lied, which actually benefits from the duo's perfectionist tendencies."

That is true.

Erlewine wrote that "Katy Lied" was a "smoother version" of the album that preceded it, "Pretzel Logic," which contained what was arguably Steely Dan's signature hit, "Rikki Don't Lose That Number."

There weren't any songs on "Katy Lied" that had that kind of commercial stature. Oh, there were hits. There were always hits on Steely Dan albums. "Black Friday" was the biggest, rising to #37, and "Bad Sneakers" was released as a single but didn't sell nearly as well. (Personally, I thought it had more of Steely Dan's sound, kind of a jazz–blues–rock fusion, than "Black Friday" did.)

I would never call myself an expert on Steely Dan — although I had some of their albums on vinyl and have several on CD today — but I would be inclined to name "Katy Lied" as the band's best album.

It doesn't have my favorite Steely Dan song, and I'm sure most people would agree with me. But judge it as an album. The music and the lyrics by Walter Becker and Donald Fagen are consistently good, and the album is designed so that no mood is allowed to linger past the end of that recording.

The album had a lot to live up to, but it made changes that worked for Steely Dan, especially the dependence on studio musicians. It gave the music a tight, sophisticated sound. The album followed "Pretzel Logic," a complex album by anyone's standards; "Katy Lied" was, indeed, like a smoother version of "Pretzel Logic," more palatable to the more casual listener.

My personal favorite from the album was "Daddy Don't Live in That New York City No More." I don't think it ever got much airplay, but it was my favorite.

There was always a cerebral quality to Steely Dan that I appreciated. In this case, it could be seen in the name of the album. Unlike many albums by other artists, the title wasn't taken from a song that was on it. It was, rather a play on the name of a particular kind of cricket — katydid. (Did you happen to notice that the cover art is a picture of a katydid?)

There is no song on "Katy Lied" that is called "Katy Lied," but in the song "Doctor Wu," you can hear lyrics that say things like "Katy tried; I was halfway crucified" and "Katy lies; you can see it in her eyes."

"Katy Lied" was also the first appearance of Michael McDonald on a Steely Dan album. McDonald, of course, became known for his work with the Doobie Brothers, but he continued to record with Steely Dan, appearing on "The Royal Scam," "Aja" and "Gaucho."

Friday, December 26, 2014

Christopher Cross' Debut Album



In December of 1979, Christopher Cross released his first album. The cover bore only his name and a rather pastoral painting of a flamingo — which, by the way, popped up on his other albums, too. The flamingo became something of a symbol for him.

It was soft rock, as the hits from the album verified, one by one. But, you know, that was OK because Cross never pretended to be doing anything else. As soft rock albums go, this one was darn near flawless, and it was helped by the presence of some of the top talent of the day to back him up — Don Henley of the Eagles provided some vocals as did Nicolette Larson, J.D. Souther and Michael McDonald of the Doobie Brothers.

Those who are eternally possessed of a teenage mentality will recall some of the tracks, like "Never Be The Same," in which the song's narrator laments the end of an affair and repeatedly pledges to live out his days alone.

Looking back, the song reeks of the angst of a teenager mourning the end of his first love affair. Those of us who survived our teen years and our first loves — and that is most of us — will say that, while painful, they aren't as extreme as Cross' music makes them seem.

At the time, though, the song seemed to rejuvenate a sagging radio industry. "Never Be The Same" was Cross' third Top 10 single from the album. It said nothing profound, but one can still imagine millions of broken–hearted teens listening to it endlessly and convincing themselves that the song was written for them.

What rubbish.

The first Top 10 single from the album was "Ride Like the Wind," which got as high as #2 on the charts. It was followed by "Sailing," which became the top–selling single in August of 1980.

"Sailing" went on to be named the Song of the Year at the Grammy Awards and probably was what propelled the album to Album of the Year, beating Pink Floyd's "The Wall." I guess that was where things changed for that album and me. See, at first I thought Cross' album was pleasant enough, and I had no serious objections to it until it aced out Pink Floyd at the Grammys.

When that happened — and for quite awhile thereafter — I would switch off my radio if I happened to be driving around and one of Cross' songs came on. I would rather drive in silence than listen to Christopher Cross after his simplistic music won awards that should have gone to Pink Floyd.

I felt it was a clear case of commercialism triumphing over the obvious best choice — and I went from being able to tolerate songs from the album to not even being able to do that.

I can report that I have overcome my objections, and I can listen to tracks from that album now. I can even appreciate them for what they are/were.

They have their place.