Walter Becker and Donald Fagen met in a coffee shop at New York State’s Bard College in 1967, discovered that they had similar tastes and opinions about music, and soon started writing songs together. After a stint peddling songs in Manhattan’s famous Brill Building, the duo moved to Los Angeles to try their luck on the west coast. Realising their songs were too complex for other recording artists, they formed Steely Dan, and with producer Gary Katz, would go on to produce seven fabulous albums of sophisticated jazz rock between 1972 and 1980.
Their quest for perfection is legendary, and the duo’s shared aesthetic meant that Steely Dan would soon enough became less “band” and more Becker and Fagen backed by a series of session musicians. They would audition musician after musician and commission take after take in a fastidious search for just the right sound, just the right style, to complement their vision. But boy, did it pay off, as they got to harness the talents of such legends as guitarist Larry Carlton, bass player Chuck Rainey, and drummer Bernard Purdie, not to mention one Michael McDonald of Doobie Brothers fame on backing vocals.
Their well-crafted songs were largely critical and commercial successes and many would become radio staples: Reelin’ In The Years, Do It Again, Rikki Don’t Lose That Number, Haitian Divorce, Peg. For me, one song in particular sums up not only the genius of the music but Fagen’s wonderful storytelling ability: Kid Charlemagne, the lead single from 1976’s The Royal Scam album. The song tells the story of the rise and downfall of counter-culture figurehead Owsley Stanley (nicknamed “Bear”), the Grateful Dead audio engineer and self-proclaimed “King of Acid”. Bear’s clandestine laboratory was responsible for supplying the majority of the burgeoning Californian LSD scene of the sixties, and in him, Fagen found the perfect character to weave a typically noir story around.
Take a look at the lyrics; they are full of deft touches. Fagen describes one of Bear’s particularly successful LSD formulations: “Just by chance you crossed the diamond with the pearl”. And on Bear’s dedication to his craft: “On the hill the stuff was laced with kerosene, but yours was kitchen clean”. And when things start to unravel (Bear was inevitably busted of course), we can sense the paranoia: “Clean this mess up else we’ll all end up in jail, those test tubes and the scale, just get it all out of here”. And when the brown stuff is about to hit the fan, the climactic question-response “Is there gas in the car? Yes, there’s gas in the car”. At this point I’m not only engaged with the story, I’m positively willing them to get the hell out of there!
Fagen’s lyrics overlay a musical package that boasts a wonderful funk backbeat courtesy of Rainey and Purdie, razor sharp rhythms and melodies from Becker and Fagen themselves and from jazz pianists Paul Griffin and Don Grolnick, and an astounding guitar solo (and outro) from Larry Carlton. It is musical alchemy of the highest order.
Here’s the best live version I can find, in which the duo seem to have exercised the same rigour with this set of musicians as they did making the album!
While the music played you worked by candlelight
Those San Francisco nights
Were the best in town
Just by chance you crossed the diamond with the pearl
You turned it on the world
That’s when you turned the world around
Did you feel like Jesus
Did you realize
That you were a champion in their eyes
On the hill the stuff was laced with kerosene
But yours was kitchen clean
Everyone stopped to stare at your technicolor motor home
Every A-Frame had your number on the wall
You must have had it all
You’d go to LA on a dare
And you’d go it alone
Could you live forever
Could you see the day
Could you feel your whole world fall apart and fade away
Get along, get along Kid Charlemagne
Get along Kid Charlemagne
Now your patrons have all left you in the red
Your low rent friends are dead
This life can be very strange
All those dayglow freaks who used to paint the face
They’ve joined the human race
Some things will never change
Son you were mistaken
You are obsolete
Look at all the white men on the street
Get along, get along Kid Charlemagne
Get along Kid Charlemagne
Clean this mess up else we’ll all end up in jail
Those test tubes and the scale
Just get them all out of here
Is there gas in the car
Yes, there’s gas in the car
I think the people down the hall
Know who you are
Careful what you carry
‘Cause the man is wise
You are still an outlaw in their eyes
Get along, get along Kid Charlemagne
Get along Kid Charlemagne
