Every time someone's in the next room when we're writing a song they'd say, "Don't tell me you're. . . writing songs in there, you're not working, 'cause you're screaming and laughing in there." Gaucho just sits in front of us, disturbingly perfect and relentlessly pathetic, emotionally radical and — in some restoration of irony — absolutely without peer. |
Gaucho - Steely Dan
By the time Donald Fagen and Walter Becker released Gaucho in 1980, their dedication to precision and audio perfection had reached both its pinnacle and its inevitable self-destruction. The duo’s dedication to their craft, legendary and unparalleled in the industry, produced a sound that exceeded everyone else making music before or since. They were, in short, studio geniuses. What sounded “fine” to others including the players themselves would never be acceptable for Steely Dan. It had to be perfect. No fewer than 42 musicians appear on the album's seven tracks. 42!
Gaucho is so perfect some find it to be too much so - "antiseptic" or "sterile" by some estimations even. The songs are exquisitely constructed, the playing is peerless and the sound is clear. The album plays as the glorious child of “Aja,” its predecessor’s brilliance giving birth to an even higher level of achievement. But where the former ranges from dreamy to approachable, a realization of ideas that blended the duo’s jazz background with a pop sensibility to achieve a sound that is truly unique, the latter is both musically and lyrically far more sinister and no less accomplished.
Universal agreement places “Aja” as Steely Dan’s masterpiece, the apex of their craft. I cannot argue the point. “Aja” is perfect. But for me, “Gaucho” is perfect-er. And while much can be said for “instant accessibility” (an album the listener can get into quickly, one you can “like” on the first listen), this record instead rewards repeated listening. Steely Dan are at their best when you need to listen again and again before you feel comfortable with the music, and to really buy into “Gaucho,” you need to be very familiar with it. It requires thoughtful listening from a patient ear. The songs are as snarky and sardonic and the characters as loathsome and lurid as any ever created by Fagen and Becker, much less anyone else.
From the downbeat of the opener “Babylon Sisters,” the listener begins a journey with a wide range of characters, few of which are sympathetic. As is the Steely Dan way, the actual meaning and content of the songs are secondary – they are trying to sell you not the story, but the music as a whole – a “feel,” a “creation.” That they managed to create one of their better known songs here, the lyrics being about exactly what they sound like they are about, is a testimony to their ability to accomplish one of their favorite tricks: hiding dark or shocking subject matter in pleasant or incongruous music.
Another favorite trick from the guys is in play here on "Babylon Sisters" too: they are particularly proud of songs on which they don’t play at all for some reason – and not a note comes from the hand of Walt or Don here! But few songs have ever been as well constructed, and the journey is positively hypnotic.
They took “Hey Nineteen,” a brief story about what someone once called an “aging hipster,” trying to pick up a college girl, to #10 on the US charts. The song’s key phrase (“the Cuervo Gold, the fine Colombian”) leaves it to the listener to decide – are these lurid indulgences being enjoyed by the couple together, or employed to drown the sorrows of the loser who failed in his conquest? My money is on the latter – Walt and Don are quite fond of losers. Here again, the brightness of the music and its precise execution belie what really happens in the lyric.
More despicable characters come on the scene in “Glamour Profession,” a song that displays the overindulgence of the coked-out LA lifestyle of the late 1970s. There’s nothing desirable pictured here, just the opposite in fact, but the lyrics used to paint the picture are some of my favorites. Who writes a line like “Brut and charisma poured from the shadows where he stood, looking good, he’s a crowd pleasing man?” (By the way, no he’s not.) At first pass, it sounds like maybe the narrator is saying he is just like the ones he is singing about (“I’m the one”), but a closer examination seems to indicate to me that he is contributing to this entire scene directly. Most likely he is their supplier (“special delivery” and “after the deal has been done”), but his godlike hand undoubtedly controls their descent into the abyss of decadence. Fagen says it is about “a very enterprising young soul who works in Los Angeles.” There’s nothing pretty about any of it – “living hard will take its toll.” Fabled fools indeed.
The title cut, the Dan’s tribute to jazz pianist Keith Jarrett, shines as the album’s musical centerpiece. Based on Jarrett’s “Long as You Know You’re Living Yours” (the hook is directly lifted from that song, resulting in a lawsuit and eventual writing credit for Jarrett), the stage is set for the star of the show, one of the most gorgeous sax solos in the group’s esteemed catalog. “Gaucho” is the most important track on the album, and with its love triangle of cowboys, a better example of Fagen’s statement that it would be a “mistake to assume that [their] songs are autobiographical,” can’t be found. As a tribute to Jarrett, the guys pay homage to a respected colleague with perfection, though tongue is firmly ensconced in cheek as they do.
They also broke one of their own rules on this track. If you have been wondering what or where the “Custerdome” is, stop fretting. They made it up, something they do not like to do. Said Fagen “It exists only in our collective imagination. In the Steely Dan lexicon it serves as an archetype of a building that houses great corporations..." That certainly clears things up. Thanks, Don!
Reluctant to discuss what their songs are about, Fagen has explained that their stories don’t have the time to be fleshed out like a film or novel given the limitations of the medium of song. Some holes are inevitable. Many have accused the duo of being deliberately obtuse. Perhaps that’s so, but closer to the truth is their desire for the listener to hear through his own ears and see through the prism of his own experiences. Not wanting to spoil this, neither of the guys has spoken very often about the meaning of their compositions. On the rare occasions they have, the results have been surprising. “Kid Charlemagne” (the opening track on “The Royal Scam.”) has been addressed, for example, and on the surface just seems to be story of a drug dealer. But Fagen has indicated the true intention is an allegory for the 1960s and how they didn’t really turn out like everyone thought they would, much like the dealer in the story. It all fell apart.
I have always been fascinated by this – if the easy to understand or obvious lyrical meaning isn’t actually what they had in mind, imagine where the more challenging compositions might be coming from! In this same vein, the touring favorite “Time Out of Mind,” presents a drug experience, probably a first timer’s experimentation with smoking heroin or opium (“tonight when I chase the dragon”). But that phrase also carries a more generic meaning: any elusive and ultimately unsuccessful pursuit of glory. I doubt very seriously the obvious interpretation serves as the intended meaning here. Whatever you bring to this narrative, in the end the message is that those things we seek out as solutions that will fix everything usually don’t. “Perfection and grace” just aren’t as easily attainable as we think, so we might as well enjoy the ride while we can. It’s gonna crash eventually.
The penultimate track, a personal favorite of mine, is the nasty “My Rival.” The music itself makes the listener feel uncomfortable, just as the rivalry of the lyric states. Neither the singer nor his rival (“he’s got a scar across his face, he wears a hearing aid”) is particularly desirable. Quite the opposite. The end will not be pleasant in this little narrative: “I still recall when I first held your tiny hand in mine. I loved you more than I can tell, but now it’s stompin’ time.” He’s trying to seek out his rival (“I’ve got detectives on his case, they filmed the whole charade”), and might even have tried to kill him in a fit of arson (“I struck a match against the door of Anthony’s Bar and Grill”). Or maybe he is just observing and lit a ciggie with that match while he waits for his antagonist’s demise. What is clear is that the rival is going down one way or another. He will “answer for his crime.” I can’t help but think it will be at the narrator’s hand, after all, there is more than one interpretation of the phrase “a fool in love with time to kill.”
And that turnaround before the bridge... wow. Just a wonderful sequence of chords. It is absolutely gorgeous. Fagen incorporates this kind of thing frequently, a connecting passage that differs from the remainder of the song in every way (see the intro to "Peg" on Aja). It liberates the soul of the listener, briefly disconnecting from the main narrative in such a way as to provide a much needed respite before continuing the story. Beautiful.
Side note: One suggested interpretation of this lyric has long fascinated me. Someone suggested the "rival" here is actually a baby. The narrator finds himself in competition for the affections of the mother and his initial love for the child ultimately results in a lifelong competition he is destined to lose. As Lucy Ricardo once said to Ricky, "He's my flesh and blood. You're just a close relative!" Whatever the interpretation, by the time the extended instrumental finale fades out, the listener is left with the inevitability that the singer's unsuccessful competition with the rival will extend on for the remainder of time.
Though the final cut, “Third World Man,” found its origins as a completely different song left over from the “Aja” project, (Larry Carlton’s exquisite guitar solo having been record during sessions for that album), the new lyrics fit the construction perfectly. Gorgeously sung, the soaring harmonies lull the listener and pull them into the music and ready the ear for that guitar solo. It is so perfectly executed that even after so many times, it still moves me. It is the perfect example of sound creating emotion. As Carlton fluidly captures a perfect string of notes, it literally has the power to bring tears to the eye. It is one of the most beautiful things ever captured on a rock record. So perfect it is, in fact, that the normally free-form encouraging Becker and Fagen insist that any guitarist playing with them when they perform the song actually replicate the perfect original.
I have no idea what the lyrics of "Third World Man" are about. I can't even begin to venture a guess. (Again, who writes a lyric like "Smoky Sunday, he's been mobilized since dawn. Now he's crouching on the lawn?") Regardless, it stands as my favorite song on the record because It is absolutely gorgeous. For whatever reason, when that song plays, it lulls me into a reflective trance - regardless of how many times I've heard it. I cannot praise the album's closer enough.
If pressed, I have to cite “Gaucho” as my favorite album. Good music can free our spirits, but great music can capture them. The album mesmerizes me. I am fascinated by every note. Whether on vinyl or on the DTS surround sound mix, I have literally stood in the middle of the room and listened straight through focusing on nothing else. It is thirty perfect minutes. When the album is playing, nothing else matters. “Gaucho” does not accompany an event. It is the event.
-Jb
Gaucho is so perfect some find it to be too much so - "antiseptic" or "sterile" by some estimations even. The songs are exquisitely constructed, the playing is peerless and the sound is clear. The album plays as the glorious child of “Aja,” its predecessor’s brilliance giving birth to an even higher level of achievement. But where the former ranges from dreamy to approachable, a realization of ideas that blended the duo’s jazz background with a pop sensibility to achieve a sound that is truly unique, the latter is both musically and lyrically far more sinister and no less accomplished.
Universal agreement places “Aja” as Steely Dan’s masterpiece, the apex of their craft. I cannot argue the point. “Aja” is perfect. But for me, “Gaucho” is perfect-er. And while much can be said for “instant accessibility” (an album the listener can get into quickly, one you can “like” on the first listen), this record instead rewards repeated listening. Steely Dan are at their best when you need to listen again and again before you feel comfortable with the music, and to really buy into “Gaucho,” you need to be very familiar with it. It requires thoughtful listening from a patient ear. The songs are as snarky and sardonic and the characters as loathsome and lurid as any ever created by Fagen and Becker, much less anyone else.
From the downbeat of the opener “Babylon Sisters,” the listener begins a journey with a wide range of characters, few of which are sympathetic. As is the Steely Dan way, the actual meaning and content of the songs are secondary – they are trying to sell you not the story, but the music as a whole – a “feel,” a “creation.” That they managed to create one of their better known songs here, the lyrics being about exactly what they sound like they are about, is a testimony to their ability to accomplish one of their favorite tricks: hiding dark or shocking subject matter in pleasant or incongruous music.
Another favorite trick from the guys is in play here on "Babylon Sisters" too: they are particularly proud of songs on which they don’t play at all for some reason – and not a note comes from the hand of Walt or Don here! But few songs have ever been as well constructed, and the journey is positively hypnotic.
They took “Hey Nineteen,” a brief story about what someone once called an “aging hipster,” trying to pick up a college girl, to #10 on the US charts. The song’s key phrase (“the Cuervo Gold, the fine Colombian”) leaves it to the listener to decide – are these lurid indulgences being enjoyed by the couple together, or employed to drown the sorrows of the loser who failed in his conquest? My money is on the latter – Walt and Don are quite fond of losers. Here again, the brightness of the music and its precise execution belie what really happens in the lyric.
More despicable characters come on the scene in “Glamour Profession,” a song that displays the overindulgence of the coked-out LA lifestyle of the late 1970s. There’s nothing desirable pictured here, just the opposite in fact, but the lyrics used to paint the picture are some of my favorites. Who writes a line like “Brut and charisma poured from the shadows where he stood, looking good, he’s a crowd pleasing man?” (By the way, no he’s not.) At first pass, it sounds like maybe the narrator is saying he is just like the ones he is singing about (“I’m the one”), but a closer examination seems to indicate to me that he is contributing to this entire scene directly. Most likely he is their supplier (“special delivery” and “after the deal has been done”), but his godlike hand undoubtedly controls their descent into the abyss of decadence. Fagen says it is about “a very enterprising young soul who works in Los Angeles.” There’s nothing pretty about any of it – “living hard will take its toll.” Fabled fools indeed.
The title cut, the Dan’s tribute to jazz pianist Keith Jarrett, shines as the album’s musical centerpiece. Based on Jarrett’s “Long as You Know You’re Living Yours” (the hook is directly lifted from that song, resulting in a lawsuit and eventual writing credit for Jarrett), the stage is set for the star of the show, one of the most gorgeous sax solos in the group’s esteemed catalog. “Gaucho” is the most important track on the album, and with its love triangle of cowboys, a better example of Fagen’s statement that it would be a “mistake to assume that [their] songs are autobiographical,” can’t be found. As a tribute to Jarrett, the guys pay homage to a respected colleague with perfection, though tongue is firmly ensconced in cheek as they do.
They also broke one of their own rules on this track. If you have been wondering what or where the “Custerdome” is, stop fretting. They made it up, something they do not like to do. Said Fagen “It exists only in our collective imagination. In the Steely Dan lexicon it serves as an archetype of a building that houses great corporations..." That certainly clears things up. Thanks, Don!
Reluctant to discuss what their songs are about, Fagen has explained that their stories don’t have the time to be fleshed out like a film or novel given the limitations of the medium of song. Some holes are inevitable. Many have accused the duo of being deliberately obtuse. Perhaps that’s so, but closer to the truth is their desire for the listener to hear through his own ears and see through the prism of his own experiences. Not wanting to spoil this, neither of the guys has spoken very often about the meaning of their compositions. On the rare occasions they have, the results have been surprising. “Kid Charlemagne” (the opening track on “The Royal Scam.”) has been addressed, for example, and on the surface just seems to be story of a drug dealer. But Fagen has indicated the true intention is an allegory for the 1960s and how they didn’t really turn out like everyone thought they would, much like the dealer in the story. It all fell apart.
I have always been fascinated by this – if the easy to understand or obvious lyrical meaning isn’t actually what they had in mind, imagine where the more challenging compositions might be coming from! In this same vein, the touring favorite “Time Out of Mind,” presents a drug experience, probably a first timer’s experimentation with smoking heroin or opium (“tonight when I chase the dragon”). But that phrase also carries a more generic meaning: any elusive and ultimately unsuccessful pursuit of glory. I doubt very seriously the obvious interpretation serves as the intended meaning here. Whatever you bring to this narrative, in the end the message is that those things we seek out as solutions that will fix everything usually don’t. “Perfection and grace” just aren’t as easily attainable as we think, so we might as well enjoy the ride while we can. It’s gonna crash eventually.
The penultimate track, a personal favorite of mine, is the nasty “My Rival.” The music itself makes the listener feel uncomfortable, just as the rivalry of the lyric states. Neither the singer nor his rival (“he’s got a scar across his face, he wears a hearing aid”) is particularly desirable. Quite the opposite. The end will not be pleasant in this little narrative: “I still recall when I first held your tiny hand in mine. I loved you more than I can tell, but now it’s stompin’ time.” He’s trying to seek out his rival (“I’ve got detectives on his case, they filmed the whole charade”), and might even have tried to kill him in a fit of arson (“I struck a match against the door of Anthony’s Bar and Grill”). Or maybe he is just observing and lit a ciggie with that match while he waits for his antagonist’s demise. What is clear is that the rival is going down one way or another. He will “answer for his crime.” I can’t help but think it will be at the narrator’s hand, after all, there is more than one interpretation of the phrase “a fool in love with time to kill.”
And that turnaround before the bridge... wow. Just a wonderful sequence of chords. It is absolutely gorgeous. Fagen incorporates this kind of thing frequently, a connecting passage that differs from the remainder of the song in every way (see the intro to "Peg" on Aja). It liberates the soul of the listener, briefly disconnecting from the main narrative in such a way as to provide a much needed respite before continuing the story. Beautiful.
Side note: One suggested interpretation of this lyric has long fascinated me. Someone suggested the "rival" here is actually a baby. The narrator finds himself in competition for the affections of the mother and his initial love for the child ultimately results in a lifelong competition he is destined to lose. As Lucy Ricardo once said to Ricky, "He's my flesh and blood. You're just a close relative!" Whatever the interpretation, by the time the extended instrumental finale fades out, the listener is left with the inevitability that the singer's unsuccessful competition with the rival will extend on for the remainder of time.
Though the final cut, “Third World Man,” found its origins as a completely different song left over from the “Aja” project, (Larry Carlton’s exquisite guitar solo having been record during sessions for that album), the new lyrics fit the construction perfectly. Gorgeously sung, the soaring harmonies lull the listener and pull them into the music and ready the ear for that guitar solo. It is so perfectly executed that even after so many times, it still moves me. It is the perfect example of sound creating emotion. As Carlton fluidly captures a perfect string of notes, it literally has the power to bring tears to the eye. It is one of the most beautiful things ever captured on a rock record. So perfect it is, in fact, that the normally free-form encouraging Becker and Fagen insist that any guitarist playing with them when they perform the song actually replicate the perfect original.
I have no idea what the lyrics of "Third World Man" are about. I can't even begin to venture a guess. (Again, who writes a lyric like "Smoky Sunday, he's been mobilized since dawn. Now he's crouching on the lawn?") Regardless, it stands as my favorite song on the record because It is absolutely gorgeous. For whatever reason, when that song plays, it lulls me into a reflective trance - regardless of how many times I've heard it. I cannot praise the album's closer enough.
If pressed, I have to cite “Gaucho” as my favorite album. Good music can free our spirits, but great music can capture them. The album mesmerizes me. I am fascinated by every note. Whether on vinyl or on the DTS surround sound mix, I have literally stood in the middle of the room and listened straight through focusing on nothing else. It is thirty perfect minutes. When the album is playing, nothing else matters. “Gaucho” does not accompany an event. It is the event.
-Jb
“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.”
Aldous Huxley
Aldous Huxley
©2015-2020 Joshua V. Best
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