On the spectrum of Grateful Dead to Steely Dan, how pretentious are you?
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I would like to note that I wrote this article with humorous intent, so please don’t take me too seriously. I do not mean to boast or offend, only make you chuckle.
On the spectrum of Grateful Dead to Steely Dan, how pretentious are you? This is often how the question is phrased, especially since the former band — founded by Jerry Garcia, Bob Weir, Ron “Pigpen” McKernan, Phil Lesh, and Bill Kreutzmann — is deemed the gold standard of vibrant live performances and the latter band — founded by Donald Fagen and Walter Becker — “the gold standard in rock and roll pretentiousness,” with no exceptions for its cult following of hardcore fans.
Danfans are, by and large, insufferable pricks. But it shouldn’t be surprising that Steely Dan have the world’s most arrogant, elitist assholes for a fan base. New York beatniks who moved to Los Angeles, the Dan hated hippies and loved cocaine, dark sarcasm and subtle wordplay.
Steely Dan’s music has been described as “clinical” in its precise, well-prepped maneuvers and clean finish, which could be a compliment if it were not accompanied by the connotation of the two genius musicians’ obsessive, neurotic approach to composition.
It’s true, Fagen and Becker were meticulous, often painstakingly so. As you’ll hear musicians like drummer Rick Marotta explain, the duo would bring in a crew of top-notch players for a session, then scrap every performance and recruit an entirely new band the next day, unhappy with virtually every take.
People often say that the Dan’s pathological pursuit of the perfect sound counteracts their creativity and imbues their music with an elitist snobbery, intended for audiences of superior discernment and sophistication. Yet I would argue that songs like “Home at Last,” “Pretzel Logic,” and “Daddy Don’t Live in That New York City No More” have enough funky grooves to drive any champion of the common man to tap along the rhythm.
From the perspective of a 17-year-old perfectionist
If you haven’t figured it out yet, I happen to be a pretty big Danfan. Maybe not surprisingly, I have also been a perfectionist for most of my life. From the beginning of elementary school, I had to have the best handwriting, the quickest recitation of my multiplication tables, and the most copious vocabulary in my short stories and essays. I spent hours perfecting school projects, surpassing the rubric guidelines, sometimes to the point of creating a final product wholly unrelated to the original prompt.
We don’t think of ourselves as being perfectionists, really. To us it’s more about desperately trying to have it sound more or less OK.
Though possibly an annoyance to some of my more competitive classmates, my ambition was a fiery force to be reckoned with, one that could not be easily extinguished by the taunts of four-foot bullies or the nagging of friends who didn’t want to spend playdates making instructional videos on composting.
As was the case for the duo, my endeavors were always motivated by personal goals; rarely did I have the intention of putting on a show for others. I set my expectations high, beyond what most thought I would be capable of, trying again and again to find a unique groove for my mental mixing studio. While this manifested itself in a more flippant attitude in Fagen and Becker, one can appreciate their lack of concern to satisfy a broader audience with conventionality or live performances. Quite literally, they marched to the beat of their own drum.
Along my journey of personal and intellectual growth, I frequently realized that what I thought I wanted for myself was not a good fit. The best explanation I can give is another analogy: Fagen and Becker, like myself, are quite stubborn, and for “Peg” on the album Aja, they specifically asked bass player Chuck Rainey not to slap the strings. In response, Rainey turned his back to the control room and slapped away. Fagen and Becker liked the sound, despite their prejudices, and Rainey went on to use the same technique for “Josie.”
In the end, you realize that there is more than one track to excellence.
Some final thoughts
In all honesty, I may not be at the complete Dan end of the spectrum; after all, I am a sucker for the Dead’s “Shakedown Street.” And if I’m going for a unique concert experience, Grateful Dead will surely take the cake.
But I cannot deny that the works of Steely Dan’s eccentric, albeit acerbic, geniuses touch my pedant heart. Those who believe that finesse comes at the expense of emotion, or that sophistication lacks soul, do not understand the intense passion that fuels any innovation, whether it be improvisation in a Dead guitar solo or a heavenly overlayed harmony in a Dan song (preferably with Michael McDonald’s husky vocals).
After all, who said that idiosyncratic brilliance couldn’t be funky?
If you’re considering making the conversion from Deadhead to DanFan, I would highly recommend checking out this chart.
