Walter Becker leaves us at the age of 67. Co-founder, along with Donald Fagen of the great American band, Steely Dan.
Or were they a band? A case could be made that they were a duo who employed the finest sidemen available and demanded the best from them, regardless of how many takes it required. Even the great Mark Knopfler didn’t make the cut on one of their songs. It was like a Woody Allen movie, where top name actors are willing to work for scale to be in one of his little gems.
Reputedly named after a steam powered dildo, the band had its fans both bobbing and scratching their heads throughout their most fertile period, which ended in the early eighties. There are websites devoted to fans’ analyses of their lyrics, taking a stab at things like whether Gaucho was modeled after a real person.
It seemed to me all along that these two incredibly intelligent men decided early on to follow in Bob Dylan’s lyrical path. “Keeping things vague,” as Joan Baez sang. 
Read their letter to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Were they honored, insulted, nonplussed, indifferent? Friendly, sarcastic, greedy, humble or dismissive? My take on it changed from sentence to sentence.
They were poets who created beautiful stanzas that could signify whatever the listener wanted them to. They were high on drugs, some speculate, and that’s why the lyrics don’t make sense.
I don’t buy that for a minute. I believe they knew exactly what they were doing. Some artists want to convey a clear message or emotion and make it easy for their followers to understand. No room for misinterpretation.
Others, just put it out there and leave it to your imagination.
Me? I just loved their sound. Or should I says sounds, because they were hard to pigeonhole. They evolved from a straight ahead yet sophisticated rock band into a category they hated being called, jazz-rock fusion. Their technique evolved from normal rock standards to pristine masterworks that were used to test the audio capabilities of one’s system.
It’s unfortunate that the digital age compromised them. They were at their best in the studio, crafting meticulous sonic masterpieces that can’t be re-created live. These days, it’s almost impossible to sell enough records to make a living. You make your money touring and this was never something Becker especially relished. In the end, we should be thankful for all the great music they gave us. Fagen promises to carry on what he calls the Steely Dan Band. Does he mean that, or is it more of that tongue in cheek wordplay that they could have trademarked?
