
The 40+ crowd warned me. They said "Watch out. Before you know it, you'll be rotating between the first seven albums of a band named after a steam powered dildo like there's no other music available on Earth". I laughed and thought "how ridiculous".
It was I who was the ridiculous one. I couldn't place the moment, day or even month when things began to change. But what I can tell you is that it was 'Deacon Blues''s fault. What the hell did they put in that song? And why the hell am I empathizing with this narration of a suburbanite's fantasy of becoming a saxophonist? Instead of digging more deeply into my psychological connection with this inciting track (too real), I used it as a diving board into the waters of Becker and Fagen's musical stylings. Something happens when you age, something mysterious. You realize that what once sounded like elevator dad rock is actually auditory gold, played by the best backing musicians in the world, led by ruthless perfectionists, who are writing brilliant, cutting songs while higher than you could possibly imagine.
I now love Steely Dan and if you don't already, you probably will soon. Let it happen.
3 days ago
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