Santa Monica Civic Auditorium September 2, 1973 concert review

From Cash Box, written by e.s.

From the opening strains of "Bodhsivatta," a celebrated cut from their latest ABC-Dunhill album, it was glaringly apparent that before the audience was a rock-n-roll band transformed the new Steely Dan Review. Primarily studio-oriented musicians, they have tentatively resigned themselves to the requisite exertions of showbiz, Bard College blue-jeans being hurriedly exchanged for velvet and satin. Above all, though there was the precise, hypnotic, at times scathingly sarcastic music that has placed them among the most import-ant new groups to emerge in popular music.

Featuring digital acrobatics by the band's two guitarists, their opening number established the three-ring circus pattern that the act was to follow. Donald Fagen, nucleus, key-board man and primary vocalist, assumed the central spotlight. He was flanked by the furiously duelling guitarists on one side and a newly acquired side-show composed of a singer-cum-conga pounder and two cheerleaders on stage left. Royce Jones, the new vocalist, offered smooth and professional editions of "Brooklyn," "Dirty Work" and "Change of the Guard," all standards of the Steely Dan repertoire, while the cheerleaders chimed in on the back-grounds and presented perhaps the most charming abdominal muscles ever, superfluously, to grace the stage.

In the past year, the songs of Donald Fagen and Walter Becker, the group's composers, have slowly gained recognition as prototypical music of the 70's. Rock formulas honed to catchy perfection by jazz-fan instrumentalists, a cynical disdain for sentiment combined with sophisticated, sometimes obscure literary reference may serve to make them established spokesmen for the contemporary rock audience. The only obstacle may be their own seeming reluctance to assume the role.

B. W. Stevenson is a heavy Texan balladeer who speaks of traveling light, hitchhiking on the open road. At every rest-stop, he must have played the juke-box, for it is that instrument which appears to be his chief source of musical inspiration. On stage he commands audience attention with easy congeniality, a folksy manner and a voice as big as Texas. His band is tight, his songs are simple and if his RCA Records hit single, "My Maria," is any indication, he should be serenading those same truck-stops for some time to come.

Steely Dan Brings Brains to AM Rock (September 2, 1973 concert review)

From The Los Angeles Times, written by Richard Cromelin

Steely Dan, America's answer to the Guess Who, headlined its first local concert Sunday at Santa Monica Civic, and it appears that the band, which sounded like an expendable commercial commodity when it first emerged, is about ready to assert itself as one of the country's most versatile, listenable and downright brilliant ensembles.

Like Canada's premiere hitmakers, Steely Dan injects an uncommon degree of intelligence (if not sheer intellectualism) into its music without diluting any of its AM appeal. Perhaps the key to the group's genius lies in the fact that it sounds almost like everything else on the radio, but always throws in a little something that could be from no one but Steely Dan.

Highly derivative (its influences, from the Archies to Yes, are easily spotted) in rock's finest tradition, SD's ability to hang a broad spectrum of authentically touching emotions on that strictly commercial framework is its strongest forte. In performance the group sacrifices some of the cleanness of its recorded sound for an invigorating muddiness that flirts with but never succumbs to distortion, The addition of two women singer/dancers has livened things up considerably, and while their "Hullabaloo" go-go gyrations are at first distracting, it soon becomes clear that it's all a part of a carefully calculated and ultimately successful master plan.

And any group that encores with "My Boyfriend's Back" obviously has a lot going for it.

Opening the show was B.W. Stevenson, whose time would be better spent in the studio and at the writing desk than on the concert stage.

Steely Dan: There's A Cha Cha In My Soup

From Circus, written by Ed Naha

When is a rock band not a rock band? When the group in question is named Steely Dan.

Steely Dan is about the unlikeliest choice for a "rock band" label as you will ever find. The six-man group (consisting of bassist Walter Becker, pianist Donald Fagen, guitarist Jeff Baxter, guitarist Denny Dias, singer David Palmer and drummer Jimmy Hodder) welds together walls of electric piano, jazz-inspired guitar rhythms, slide guitar, electric sitar and a few horn riffs with skill and ease. The resulting music, however, isn't quite rock. Nor is it jazz . . . or pop . . . or anything else you can hang a name on.

During a recent gig at New York's famed Max's Kansas City, Steely Dan put on a perplexing performance which showcased their lightweight rock melodies and pseudo-Buffalo Springfield-ish vocal harmonies. The results were amazing, or rather, the audience was left amazed. Listening to the band hop, skip and jump through Latin-flavored rockers, country-inspired ballads and pop sagas, the crowds weren't quite sure of how to label this interesting potpourri. All they knew was that this music was tight and ex-citing-and worth coming back to hear again.

Basement sessions: Chief writers Walter Beck and Donald Fagan realize that their songwriting style is slightly off the wall, but they defend their tunes as being simply "traditional." "Well, we try to write songs as close to the same approach as the Beatles used, so the songs will be unified. You know, pop songs with some kind of structure that can be develop-ed. We're actually pretty traditional in that respect, but our chord structures are usually more interesting than in most rock and roll."

The history of the traditionally mysterious Steely Dan goes back to about five years ago, when Walt and Don met at New York's Bard College and decided to collaborate with songwriting duties. One resulting tune,. "I Mean To Shine," was recorded by an up-and-coming young singer named Barbra Streisand. The boys began working in studios and soon found themselves part of Jay and the American's back-up band, hardly an exciting start for the Lennon-McCartney inspired duo.

After eighteen months of bombarding America with "Cara Mia's," the team left Jay and took refuge in ABC Dunhill's L.A. office, where they be-came staff writers. It was there that Steely Dan came into being. Practicing secretly in the basement of the ABC offices, Walt and Don enticed struggling rockers to take up the Steely-ite cause, enlisting their musical services in the development of the fledgling band.

Boston underground veterans: First to join were Jeff Baxter and Jimmy Hodder. Jeff, better known as "Skunk" to friend and foe alike ("because I never change my socks"), was just recovering from the split of his Boston-based group, Ultimate Spinach, and Jimmy was about to leave another Boston band, Bead Game. Recalls Jim, "Bead Game was pretty raunchy. We never rehearsed. We just got onstage and were really sloppy. But people came to see us anyway." They both figured Steely Dan to be a musical panacea guaranteed to cure their rock ills, and so they commenced rehearsing.

The Steely Dan quartet soon realized that there was something missing from their sound. That "something" turned up in the persons of Denny Dias and lead singer David Palmer, a veteran of Middle Earth, Jake and the Family Jewels and the Quinaimes Band. David recalls that the only reason he joined Steely Dan was "I was at the low point of my life. I was working in a factory in New Jersey and I was scared. All my friends in New York were all down and out, they couldn't write, couldn't do anything. So I said 'Alright I'll join.'"

With the addition of Dave, Steely Dan was ready to step into the studio to record. On their debut ABC/Dun-hill release, Steely Dan, the group did their best to fuse together rock, pop, jazz and latin ideas. Sounding a bit like the old Electric Flag minus the horns or one of Boston's late sixties' rock mutations, Steely Dan pulls off musical surprises with the aplomb of pros. A pedal steel guitar will turn up in the middle of a cha-cha, a few jazz chords will tear through a rocker, and a Memphis horn line will suddenly appear in a ballad.

Off-the-wall realism: Crazy? Well, maybe. But Steely Dan is a group that's out to prove that it's music that still counts, not flash. Onstage at Max's, the group finishes a very laid-back set, highlighted by Steely's electric piano-dominated tunes and David's graceful body movements a la early Jim Morrison. No hype, no stage absurdity - just music. Watching them bound off the stage with enthusiasm, one can't help but remember the words of Walt Becker, who earlier in the day commented: "It's all a matter of everyone understanding that the music is the most important thing. Anything that detracts from that isn't worth doing."

Whisky a Go Go December 8, 1972 concert review

From The Los Angeles Times, written by Richard Cromelin

It's too bad that Steely Dan (at the Whisky through Sunday), a band that is capable of producing some appealing, energetic and intelligent rock 'n' roll, chooses to be so neglectful (or simply tasteless) in matters of appearance. Live rock 'n' roll is supposed to be a show, and how long can one look at a pair of denim overalls without becoming utterly bored or downright repulsed?

That self-imposed disadvantage should be correct-ed quickly, because if it presents a visual aspect that complements rather than detracts from its musical impact, Steely Dan has a chance to become an outstanding mainstream rock group.

Its tunes are simple and catchy, and the arrangements, led by keyboards and two guitars and stabilized by a solid rhythm section, are richly textured and constantly varied.

The band's style incorporates several elements, the most prominent being a British-sounding heaviness and concern with nice melodic phrases and strong chord progressions.

Also in evidence are traces of L.A. country-rock and a good deal of basic, commercial rock 'n' roll.
Steely Dan's stage manner is moderately energetic if not terribly original, and while the lead singer's moves are largely unimaginative, at least they're there. The memorable selections on opening night were "Do It Again," "Brooklyn" and "Boddhisattva" (the line "Boddhisattva, won't you take me by the hand" delivered over a vintage rock 'n' roll figure is evidence enough that there's some degree of consciousness at work in the group). If only they can find some time to go shopping.

Second-billed Woodpecker also exhibits considerable commercial potential. It makes no bones about its similarity to Three Dog Night (seven members. three lead singers, a rendition of a Randy Newman song), and there is every chance that a bit of tightening will result in considerable, if not quite so phenomenal success.

Dunhill Inks Steely Dan

From Cash Box, written by ???

Jay Lasker, ABC/Dunhill president, has announced the signing of Steely Dan, a new rock group, to the label. Coinciding with the announcement of the signing, Steely Dan's premier album for the label, "Can't Buy a Thrill," is being rush-released and is scheduled to ship in early September.

The six-man band is comprised of composers Walter Becker and Donald Fagen performing on electric bass guitar and keyboards respectively; Jim Hodder, percussionist; guitarists Jeff "Skunk" Baxter and Denny Dias; and vocalist David Palmer. Each member of the band is an accomplished musician and each has spent a number of years pursuing his own career until producer Gary Kannon brought their collective talents to the label and recorded them as a group.

Rock Groups Have Rocky Road to Stardom

From The Journal News, written by Will Sherman

Selling a rock group to one of the giant New York recording companies is a tough campaign of Broadway pavement pounding, endless dickering, badgering receptionists, managers, lawyers, execs, friends.

A select few groups make it. They sell themselves and enjoy the flash of money, women, fame, travel and an exalt ed position in the elitist world of recorded stars.

Many groups, after long months of practice in cellars and one-night gigs in grimy clubs, finally get noticed, but fall into the cold, cashless, trap of a contract with no provisions for remuneration. There's only a promise that says "we will record you twice a year."

Getting strapped in like that is frequently all a group can get, but many groups are worth more. They know it, and fight for the best dollar possible.

This means more waiting, more dickering & more disappointments and the pitfalls of promises that never bloom into fact.

""But it's worth it," grinned Don Fagen, 22, keyboard specialist and coleader of a group negotiating with several record companies. They hope to sign for a figure "not less than $75,000."

Don Fagen's group, simply tagged "Fagen-Becker" after Don and Walter Becker, the quintet's bass player and coleader, is several cuts above most outfits bargaining for fame.

Both Don and Walter read and write music, have authored 15 published songs, and are sitting firmly and fondly in the expanding corporate lap of JANA enterprises. It is presided over by Jay and the Americans, a rock group of long standing.

"We're in an excellent position asking for that kind of money," explained Don and Walter, hunched over cheese burgers ant beer in a Greenwich Village Cafe.

"Yeah," said Don, "after two years of walking around Broadway with our envelope of songs. The day of the song plugger is over and you can't just walk into a record company, sit down at a piano, play your stuff and ask for a decision. Nowadays, without a connection you can't even get by the receptionist at the gate."

Taking time out from the cheeseburgers, Don and Walter, with help from their women in tow, described their long campaign for a contact.

"You see," said Walter, "I was living in a loft above a gambling joint in the West for ties, and Don was finishing up at Bard College and we had this envelope of songs."

"That was all we had, just that envelope," added Don. "We walked into every recording company around Broadway but nobody listened." ...

Money was getting short, the boys' shoe leather was wearing out and with it, their optimism when they strolled into 1619 Broadway one blistering day during the summer of '68.

"It was Jay and the Americans' office," said Don, "First, a lackey listened to our stuff. Then we met one of the Americans who listened to our songs. He ducked back into the office, played it for two others, came out and said 'Write us a commercial for Trans Texas Airlines.'

What Trans Texas Airlines had to do with rock music was a mystery to the boys, but they wrote it, sent it in and heard no more from Jay and his band for almost a year.

"It's like that," said Don.

"They talk to you enthusiastically one day, and then you don't hear a word for months."

A year passed by, and the boys spent the time picking up accompaniments with studio rhythm sections, and working on a record called "Boona" by Terry Boylan.

"The record was a disaster," said Don. "And we never even got paid for it."

But then, in August '69, for some strange, and still unknown reason, Jay and the Americans started calling Don and Walter again, and the two ever-patient musicians started working on Jay's albums and writing songs for JANA's Hi-Life Music Corp.

"Then we teamed up with Jay's drummer, John Disepalo, singer Keith Thomas and guitarist Denny Dias - all of whom had been knocking around studios for some time. All of a sudden we found we had a group," said Don.

The boys met Keith and Denny through an ad in an underground paper that said, "have jazz chops - call ..." Jazz chops is music patois for an ability to play jazz.

THREE MONTHS AGO. Don and Walter, armed with their published songs, a name as studio musicians, and the endorsement of Jay and the Americans, started pounding the Broadway pavement again. This time, with a manager Kenny Vance, also of Jay's group.

"Managers call this doing a number," said Don. "It goes something like this...

"We show them our music and they listen to our tapes, The A & R men say: 'We like it.'

"We ask them for $75,000 before we sign.

"They say: 'We'll sleep on it.' They come back with an offer considerably lower than our demand.

"Then we say: 'We'll sleep on it!'"

"It's the equivalent of haggling with a rug merchant," laughed Walter.

While they're bargaining with Aveo-Embassy, United Artists and Elektra, they're doing more and more studio work for which they get paid $50 for every two-hour session.

The boys are on the brink of success and the campaign trail tale took several hours and much beer.

''Hey, the future looks rosy," mugged Don.

That's right. It certainly looks rosy," mimicked Walter, drumming on the table.

They paid the check and took a taxi home.