Steely Dan At The Greek
I loved playing, but I hated practicing.
When I was six years old my parents schlepped me to Bridgeport for piano lessons. There were six of us munchkins, three per piano, it was a great thrill to be able to master the notes and play the tunes. But I refused to ride home with Margaret, my parents were always insisting I hitch a ride with someone else, it was a great thrill to get my first car at twenty, but I really had a problem with Margaret.
Then I graduated to instruction with Murray, the husband of the woman who’d given us kiddies our start. Murray was a nice guy, but he was obviously doing it for the money, but he did get frustrated if I didn’t practice. And I didn’t. Even though I told my parents I’d get up early before school and lay my hands on the keyboard. Yeah, right. And before long I was done with piano lessons and on to baseball. But you reach a certain age and wonder why you can’t play, what happened, it’s too late to be good, but you wish you were.
You can go to the Steely Dan show to hear the famous tunes, but the true reward is the exceptional playing. In this band, one can argue Donald and Walter are the weak links.
Your first moment of pure amazement is when Jim Pugh comes forward to blow on his trombone. Almost a forgotten instrument, Pugh pulls that tube back and forth and emits such a wondrous noise it makes you want to take lessons, or dance, or both.
And then there’s Jon Herington. Anybody can turn up the effects and perform an imitation of the classics. Just go to NAMM, wannabes are plentiful. But can you make your guitar cry and sing, can it be about the notes first and then the sound? Whew!
And the entire horn section is delicious. And I don’t want to fail to mention the underpinning of Freddie Washington, the bass player.
But the true genius last night was the drummer, Keith Carlock.
I don’t care if you’re unschooled, if you neither know how to play or listen. Just watching Carlock you’ll realize you’re in the presence of genius.
Then again, there really is no genius, just tons of practice.
Carlock propels this freight train of thirteen players forward like a metronome. One with a personality. He doesn’t pound to make you pay attention, it’s not about being a star but energizing both the band and the room. He’s like a pair of Nikes in a world of Timberlands. He’s light on his feet. He’s fluid. You can’t stop paying attention.
The playing in Steely Dan is the antidote to "American Idol", "The Voice", "X Factor" and all the major label crap. Fame is secondary. Not even a factor really. The fame game is all about grooming and auto-tune. About creating a sheen that blinds people into submission. Whereas the performances last night penetrated your body right down to your soul. It’s like being in bizarroland, where everything’s the opposite. Where people practice to get it right, to master their instrument as opposed to becoming rich and famous.
Imagine being so good that you’re in demand. Not having to dun people, hit them over the head with e-mail and Facebook to pay attention. There’s a thin layer of people that good, the first call, and they all have one thing in common, they practiced when no one was looking, alone. Because nowhere worth getting to can be arrived at without hard work.
Now this evening was billed as "By Popular Demand". And there were a couple of surprises, like "FM". No static at all, I’ve never heard them do this live. The best thing, the only thing that lasts from that crappy Universal movie.
And does "Black Friday" portend the next stock market collapse, when we find out there are better alternatives than Pandora, Google does social networking better than Facebook and everybody realizes that almost no one pays to play Zynga’s games (http://buswk.co/pXfrBk). And when the crash happens what’s gonna survive. After your house is repossessed and your bank account is wiped out… MUSIC! And if we’ve already forgotten the hits of the last decade you realize that music is more than stardom, that only that with substance lasts, and that’s what Steely Dan delivers.
It was a different era. We all listened to the radio, it was our trusted filter and friend. You played the album from beginning to end, you paid for it, you couldn’t afford much more. These numbers are embedded in our DNA. And that’s what brings everybody out, they know the songs.
Everyone’s complaining that there’s no money left in music. And that’s true if you’re a star. Which is why you should give up that game. Practice and become really good. No one bought the records of anybody but the legends anyway, the journeymen never got royalties, they earned their keep on the road. And they’re doing so again.
Music is a calling. Stardom is an afterthought. And if you follow this mantra one day you’re gonna be so good you’re gonna be blowing minds, drawing people to you, when they see you they’re going to be wowed. No one wants to put in the time anymore. But if you want to get laid and be personally rich don’t play the market, play your instrument. I can’t do it, most people can’t, but when I see someone as good as Keith Carlock I can’t help but tell everybody I know.
