“Steely Dan, Jazz and Cousins”
My cousin Ted had been in my piano studio class at Oberlin Conservatory. He, too, studied with Joseph Schwartz. We became good friends, and we occasionally listened to Steely Dan in our dorm rooms together. Flash forward 20 years, and cousin Ted was the keyboardist for Steely Dan on their two comeback albums. As a result, yours truly got an extended backstage pass when Steely Dan performed in Chicago. Donald Fagen kept to himself. But Walter Becker was happy to have me hang out with him, and we talked music.
We went to Walter’s dressing room, and he put on CDs as we talked about different artists. I asked him a question I had wanted to ask ever since they released “Aja:” Why, once you wrote THE coolest piano riff ever (“I Got The News”) didn’t you just keep writing more songs that sounded like that? Walter’s answer: “Yeah, I totally agree. That, sadly, was Victor Feldman, who is no longer with us.”
Then Walter shared a funny story: It was the summer of 1974 and “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number” was a monster hit. One day in 1974, Walter was with a friend at a bar where they happened to have an awesome jukebox with eclectic music. Walter had had a bit too much to drink, but then he smiled when he heard that iconic opening riff to “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number.” He became enraged when the song that followed the riff was NOT his song, but someone else’s song. A completely different song. Walter got up and shouted: “HEY, THAT. $#!&% %#@ STOLE MY RIFF! I’LL SUE HIM FOR EVERY PENNY…” as his friend desperately tried to get him to quiet down. His friend finally succeeded, and then said “Walter, listen to me! You released your song in 1974, right?” “YEAH, BUT WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES THAT…” “WALTER! LISTEN TO ME! That song you’re so upset about? It’s called ‘Song For My Father’ by Horace Silver, and it was written in 1964. Do the math. And once you do, you can thank Horace for not suing you’re a__.” Walter was stunned, and finally sat down and said “Oh…”
I then asked Walter which album, if he had to limit his response to one album only, influenced him the most? His response: Albert Ayler Trio, “Spiritual Unity.” He then put it on his CD player, and later gave me the CD. I could hear the connection to Walter’s music right away. This album was Ayler’s American debut. Ayler was one of the most important free jazz musicians of the 1960s, and was an amazing tenor sax player. He had a deep tone thanks to the famous plastic Fibercane number 4 reeds he used, and he also had a broad, emotional vibrato to his sound. “Spiritual Unity” built on Coltrane and Ornette Coleman into ever more abstract sounds where the timbre (not just harmony with melody) was the music’s backbone. And yet, the sound has those complex chord progressions, where you’re not sure if it’s really major or minor, or a bit of both, that is so associated with Steely Dan’s music.
Walter soon had to get ready for the show. I played ping pong backstage with the drummer who had been Michael Jackson and Madonna’s drummer (among others). I know what you’re wondering: I won. I enjoyed talking to the background singers, who also had very impressive pop music resumes. Everyone was so nice! There were even kids running around. No drugs, no booze. My kind of backstage scene! I made a mental note that, when I become a massive international pop star, this is definitely the kind of backstage vibe I want to cultivate.
These are the thoughts I had, tonight, when I pulled my Albert Ayler CD down from the shelf.
