THE PLAYERS

Keith Carlock

"You noticed that?"

Last night, during one of his solos, Keith Carlock changed his grip.

Most rock drummers work their kit like Fred Flintstone, as if they’re wielding two chicken drumsticks, gripping both overhand.  But I remember from fifth grade drum class that you’re supposed to hold the left stick underhanded, with two fingers on the outside.  That’s how Keith holds his left stick.

Except for this brief moment, where he switched to Rock Band style, and then like Dino Danelli, after playing a few fills, twirled his stick back into place.  What was going on?  What was that about?

That’s what I asked Keith backstage.

And he told me he learned that trick by playing drumlines, in college.  In this case, he had another snare drum behind him, in order to reach it, he had to change his grip.

Keith’s from Mississippi.  He went to the University of North Texas because of the music program.  He was in the band.  Then he ventured to NYC.  When he’s done with Steely Dan, he goes on the road with James Taylor.

Michael Leonhart

Felice struck up a friendship with Michael backstage at Red Rocks, when we saw Steely Dan there back in 2006. Michael’s father was a bass player, who put his kids through private school before they transferred to the High School of Music & Art.  Michael spent two years at Columbia before he was just too successful musically to continue.  His sister went on to graduate from the University of Rochester before singing backup for Steely Dan. Michael not only plays trumpet, he arranges too.

Jim Pugh

You don’t have to know how to play to recognize excellence.  I can’t say that I stay up at night thinking of one trombone, never mind seventy six, but Jim Pugh mesmerized and elated me every one of the four evenings.  His passion, never mind his skill, would draw anybody’s attention.  And his interplay with Larry Carlton was one of the highlights of the last two nights.  Jim went to the Eastman School in Rochester, his New York City credits are too long to mention, and now, in addition to touring with Steely Dan, he’s a professor at the University of Illinois.

Larry Carlton

Felice asked him if he ever played with her father.
Larry launched into a story about being awoken early in the morning by Hank, being booked for a gig, Felice’s dad saying WAIT ‘TIL YOU HEAR THE BASS PLAYER!  Abe Laboriel.

Conclusion

In a music business that’s centered on looks, that requires a degree in social networking to compete, Steely Dan’s band is positively old school.  They didn’t earn their seats with bravura, rather they did it with skill, honed over years.  Music is a calling.  Fame is a wish, a desire.  You can be famous overnight, just go out and shoot someone. But to be a skilled player, you’ve got to put in long, lonely hours honing your craft.  You’ve got to do it for love, because there may never be any significant remuneration.  Only the best, with extreme perseverance, are able to make a living playing music.  Don’t confuse pop stars with musicians.  And, unlike stars, none of the above mentioned musicians had any airs, any reluctance to interact.  As opposed to exhausted stoners ensconced in their dressing room sipping Jack Daniel’s in debauchery, they were eager to talk, to interact, to give their opinion.  It was fascinating hearing the viewpoint from the other side of the footlights.  What they thought worked and what didn’t. And they told me, oftentimes there’s even disagreement amongst the band who played well, which performance was the best.  A band is a living, breathing thing.  Made up of human components.  Don’t confuse it with those gyrating bodies singing to track backed by instruments on hard drive.

DO IT AGAIN

It’s the sound of the guitar.

My machine, my very first, was a hand-me-down ’63 Chevy, with an AM radio in the dash.  But when the intro to "Do It Again" poured out of the one and only speaker I was transfixed.  That’s the power of music.  It can instantly adrenalize you, make you feel like you want to live forever.

RIKKI DON’T LOSE THAT NUMBER

My mother’s Country Squire did have an FM radio, but there was little reception on the way to Lyndon’s house in Wellfleet.  That was a summer tradition, in early June, going out to the Cape.  At this point, I’d just graduated from college, which is one of the most depressing moments in life.  Talk about a let-down.  NOW WHAT?

Some people figure it’s all an endless slog to graduate school.  When I heard fellow freshmen grubbing grades for their next layer of education, I opted out.  At some point you’ve got to stop playing the game and be who you are.

"Rikki" was a surprise.  Steely Dan’s second album had contained no hits.  Stacked against the rest of the AM playlist "Rikki Don’t Lose That Number" was like stumbling upon your stoner buddy at a religious convention. "Rikki" is wistful.  Wistful tracks penetrate, grab hold and never let go.  Like the Left Banke’s "Pretty Ballerina", which we heard on XM pulling up to park Monday night.

DOCTOR WU

Irving said the crowd in Boston and New York was standing, cheering during this number, unlike their L.A. brethren.  It was great to hear "Docor Wu", but I’m waiting for the tour with the complete "Katy Lied".  I want to hear "Bad Sneakers" and "Your Gold Teeth II".  But, "Black Friday" killed, as per usual.

KID CHARLEMAGNE

This got better every night.  Sure, Larry Carlton brought the whole enterprise up a notch, but what was truly enticing was how it ceased being a performance and truly captured the essence of an era, like experiencing a great movie. The combination of exuberance and danger, mixed with the remorse of aging, of time passing, is a unique brew that intoxicates with repeated listening.

JOSIE

This is the number that kicked it up another notch last night.  People jumped up and immediately started dancing, and there was an undercurrent of audience vocals.  We may not be able to recite the Constitution, but thirty year old tracks are imprinted in our DNA.  "Josie" swings on record.  But live, it’s a pulsing ooze that squeezes out regular life, that takes over your head and heart, that makes you feel JOYFUL!

HOME AT LAST

Monday night’s rendition was the definitive performance.  It was Larry Carlton’s defining moment.  Have you seen Jeff Beck?  He gets you standing, oohing and ahhing, staring in disbelief as he wrings ever more satisfying notes from his guitar.  Larry did the same thing.  After that one performance, I’ve got newfound respect for the song, I luxuriated in hearing it on Tuesday.

BABYLON SISTERS

1

Drive west on Sunset
To the sea

Irving’s right, L.A. audiences suck.  But there’s a reason we live here.  Three hours behind New York and D.C. Sure, we care about the country, but this is the homeland of personal development.  We don’t want to shirk responsibility, but we don’t want to do what we’re told, what’s expected of us.  We came to L.A. to be free.

And when you drive west of the 405, as the road twists and turns through Brentwood and then Pacific Palisades towards the beach, you feel an inner exhilaration that’s a combination of every Beach Boys number and "Babylon Sisters".  You’re calm, but you’re conscious of the possibilities.  Who your father is, where you went to college, they no longer matter.  Sure, you can dress up in designer clothes, drive a German car, but that’s only skin deep.  Those people are playing to the media.  Whereas true Angelenos are about independence and choice.  It’s who you truly are.  Not your c.v., but your essence.

So languid and bittersweet, "Babylon Sisters" sounds like what it is, the musings of displaced New Yorkers, who’ve stayed long enough to slow down and ask questions.  To which, if there are any answers at all, there certainly are not correct ones.

Are you building your resume for your obit?  Maybe you connived to get your wedding listed in the "New York Times".  But the only people who really care about those markers are the people judging you in your head.  We know this in California.  That’s why we live here.  We die and our ashes are spread at sea.  We’re like the wind.

But it can get lonely.  And what keeps you warmest is music.  And sound is important, but we want artists to speak to us.  We discard the Top Forty inanities, we’re hunting for someone who’s got a viewpoint, who’s got something to say.  That’s why we gravitated to Steely Dan.  More books are sold per capita west of the Mississippi than east. We’re searching.

And we want to find our own answers.  But we’re looking for guidance, for solidarity, for resonance along the way. That’s what Steely Dan provides.

And now, like Los Angeles itself, Steely Dan is an outpost, not the mainstream.  And like L.A., Steely Dan doesn’t care.  It exists in its own world, with enough fans to keep the music alive.

2

This is no one night stand
It’s a real occasion"
Close your eyes and you’ll be there
It’s everything they say
The end of a perfect day

We didn’t drive west on Sunset to the beach, rather east on the 101 to Universal City.  Where we spent four nights hanging with our buddies, there to enjoy the music.  It was like the seventies, but better.  We were no longer trying to achieve something, no longer reaching to define ourselves, we were now fully developed, we accepted who we were.

Attendance was not a badge of honor.  Those who didn’t go, didn’t care.  But we did.  We needed to shake it.

You’ve got to shake it baby
You’ve got to shake it baby
You’ve got to shake it