Published on Jan 12, 2006
After two albums, was Steely Dan running out of
gas?
Listening to Pretzel Logic, the third disc
from the brainchild of Walter Becker and Donald Fagen, that was the
big question I found myself asking. Despite the inclusion of one of
their biggest hits, this outing features tracks that sound like
works in progress rather than the finely-polished gems that the
collective was known for.
The one hit that you’ll instantly recognize (after
the brief lead-in of what sounds like a faint jungle rhythm) is
“Rikki Don’t Lose That Number.” Okay, so it’s overplayed on classic
rock radio. I can’t help it, I still love this song, no matter how
many times I’ve heard it. In a sense, it’s kind of hard to explain
just what makes this track succeed. Is it the catchy refrain that
goes from a samba-like beat to a full-blown chorus? Is it the
gentleness of the verses that clashes with the more intense guitar
solo? I’ll let others argue those points.
In fact, a good portion of the first half of the
disc, while not as powerful as either of Steely Dan’s two previous
efforts, still evokes enough hope for the listener to make them
think that the whole album will turn the corner on the very next
track. Songs like “Any Major Dude Will Tell You” and “Barrytown”
hold out those glimmers of hope — if only they delivered the goods
afterward.
For the bulk of Pretzel Logic, though, Steely
Dan turns into a band without a solid song behind them. Jumping
from an almost ragtime band style (“East St. Louis Toodle-oo”) to
what sure sound like mere fragments of songs (“Through With Buzz,”
“Parker’s Band,” “Monkey In Your Soul”), it’s almost like Becker
and Fagen just put out these concepts in order to insure they had a
disc in the stores each year. I’ve seen it argued that Becker and
Fagen were railing against the outcry over the richer
instrumentation on Countdown To Ecstasy; maybe this is so.
But by lopping off the instrumental development of their songs,
they essentially neuter the creature of Steely Dan that they
created. Whatever the case, it’s a bad mix.
Props do need to be given to the title track, even if
it too does not count among the strongest efforts that Steely Dan
recorded in their history. There is something about this track that
feels like a backhand slap against — well, everything, almost as
if Becker and Fagen are tired of being told that everything they do
is wrong. Their response in this track seems to be, “The hell with
you all, we’ll do it the way we want to.” Fine and dandy,
boys… just don’t expect everyone to like the end result.
Daring to call Pretzel Logic anything but a
masterpiece in this day and age almost invites the masses to pull
out the tar and feathers against the blasphemer. Yet if one steps
back and compares this disc to a lot of the material that Steely
Dan recorded in their history, one can’t help but see it as a disc
with half-finished ideas almost begging for closure. Had they only
been granted that wish.