When I tell people how much I appreciate the music of Steely Dan, I invariably experience one of three fairly predictable responses: mocking derision, utter disinterest, or—when I’m lucky—a kind of hesitant joy, as if the person I’m speaking with wants very badly to admit his or her own passion for the music of Donald Fagen and Walter Becker, but can’t honestly believe I’ve got the guts to do so out loud. Steely Dan’s body of work has always been very polarizing… and to be honest, I don’t blame the people who don’t like it: I consider it an acquired taste, and in a world of instant gratification and unnumbered channels of entertainment, acquiring taste is profoundly difficult.
I myself fell in love with Steely Dan almost 30 years ago, and I’m not sure I’d be able to do the same today. Heck, I think even the band members themselves understand this phenomenon. Consider these lyrics from their song “Everything Must Go,” the title track from their last (and hopefully not final) CD:
It’s high time for a walk on the real side
Let’s admit the bastards beat us
I move to dissolve the corporation
In a pool of margaritas
So let’s switch off all the lights
And light up all the Luckies
Crankin’ up the afterglow
‘Cause we’re goin’ out of business
Everything must goTalk about your major pain and suffering
Now our self-esteem is shattered
Show the world our mighty hidey-ho face
As we go sliding down the ladder
It was sweet up at the top
‘Til that ill wind started blowing
Now it’s cozy down below
‘Cause we’re goin’ out of business
Everything must go
You can almost read, between those sardonic and self-abnegating lines, a resignation letter penned to the American music-listening public.
The utter disinterest I sometimes experience when mentioning, say, Aja, one of the band’s more well-known CDs, seems to stem from the fact that Steely Dan have never been widely loved. Even in the late 1970s, at the height of their popularity, their predominantly jazz-influenced tunes were fully out of step with the popular musical modes. Musicians loved their work, but the general public often ignored them, save for a few of their more “catchy” songs. Heck, they won a Grammy award barely ten years ago for their CD Two Against Nature, and most people I know probably think they haven’t even BEEN a band for more than a couple of decades.
The mocking derision I often find myself up against I am just now beginning to understand in different terms, by which I mean that at long last I have decided: people who don’t like Steely Dan are not my kind of people. Relax: I still like you. What I mean is, if you don’t like Steely Dan, it’s probably because you value music more than you value lyrics.
The band’s music is admittedly… well, let’s call it specific. From CD to CD, they play within a somewhat narrow range. That range, furthermore, isn’t occupied by many other artists, so there aren’t easy ways to “get to” their music. If you don’t like how it sounds… well, it’s not hard to see why. I do like how it sounds… as it happens, I like it a great deal.
What makes me devoted to their oeuvre, however, isn’t the music: it’s the lyrics. I can tell there’s a mind at work in them: a smart, funny, erudite, inventive mind. Their songs MEAN something. They aren’t meant to be ignored or thrown away, like most of what’s passed for popular music (if we’re being honest) in every decade of American musical history.
I’m a lyrics guy. I can tolerate—and even enjoy—a great deal of variety in musical styles as long as what’s being sung is interesting to me. That doesn’t mean, mind you, that I don’t value music without lyrics: I sure as heck do. In fact, most of what I listen to these days is classical and instrumental jazz. It’s just that if I’m going to get to know a band and enjoy a band, I really have to be certain that what they’re singing about impresses me. This is why I can no longer listen to, say, The Doors, whose lyrics strike me as just about as deep as a drained wading pool, and why I remain singularly unimpressed by Lady Gaga and her “Poker Face.”
What I find myself wondering now is whether the same preference—lyrics over music—is common to most writers. If so, does the preference also extend to other theater practitioners, who (one would assume) care about words? (I’m not considering musical theater practitioners, mind you, who probably have to answer the question of music or lyrics with a resounding “both.”) If not… why not? Can a writer who cares more about the music articulate why? I’m quite curious to know.
I definitely fall into the both category. But not because I like musical theater. As someone who plays an instrument (Bass) and writes lyrics, I’m attracted by sounds that convey a feeling. And sounds that allow you to get lost in them. Not to mention how well the instruments play off one another. The sounds get me moving or bring me someplace other. I’m also a lyrics guy. I lean toward the somewhat poetic. Not a fan of country lyrics for example.Lyrics give me goosebumps. Or make me say, “oh man, i love that!”Something like this: “Her name was Magil and she called herself LilBut everyone knew her as Nancy”Or this: “She runs through the streets With her eyes painted red Under black belly of cloud in the rain In through a doorway she brings me White gold and pearls stolen from the sea She is raging She is raging And the storm blows up in her eyes. She will…Suffer the needle chillShe’s running to stand…Still.”That my friend. Gives me chills. Music. I love.
I know that for some people the answer is both, of course. But for me, I simply cannot listen to music with bad lyrics. It loses my respect utterly.
On the other hand, I’ll forgive a somewhat simplistic tune if the words are poetic or clever. That’s just how I’m wired.
Bonus points if you know the songs. =)
Duh. Rocky Raccoon/Beatles and Running to Stand Still/U2. The latter, of course, isn’t surprising at all. 🙂
As a voice coach for actors – lyrics. These are the difference between a good song and a great one when performed. Watch singers who understand what lyrics are for. I’m referring mostly to musical theatre, but this holds for just about any song where you can actually hear what’s being sung – another topic!
I totally agree. I’m so much more compelled when a singer can actually convey the song, rather than simply singing it. The former involves a mature understanding of what the song says. The latter is muscle power.
How important are lyrics to me? Very. I sort of came to music primarily through lyrics. In my adolescence I simply couldn’t get enough of Pink Floyd’s lyricist Roger Waters, and I remember at first being taken by T. S. Eliot primarily because I thought (at the time) how much he reminded me of Rog. Yeah, it embarrases me, too.
What I love about Walt and Don is how much they’re like the great poets. The lines you quote, Gwyd, could easily apply to them, as you say. But they could just as easily be referencing America’s presence on the world stage. Or a relationship gone bad. They’re open-ended, and therefore open to interpretation, and invite multiple readings, like the work of any great poet.
It’s also why I’m a fan of The Hold Steady. Musically, you either like Craig Finn’s speak-spit lyrical style or you don’t, and many don’t. Lyrically? I’ve publicly–I mean, after many drinks and in front of people whose opinion I respect–compared their album “Separation Sunday” to “The Wasteland.” And, if you know me, and you the esteem I hold Eliot, you’ll know that’s saying something.
At times, Shawn, when I hear you (or, in this case, read you) wax eloquent on something, I feel as if we must have been separated at birth.
I, too, have made similarly embarrassing comparisons. (Ask me about Yeats and Chuck D sometime.) And I agree with your assessment of Walt and Don’s work — it functions on many layers; I would add that they adopt myriad styles as well. (Pretzel Logic, for example, being very different than, say, My Old School.)
I’ve noted your ardor for The Hold Steady often enough that I should probably have given them a more serious listen long before now. I will do that immediately. Please, though, if you wouldn’t mind: tell me the best place to start?