The rock gig format is so well established that, until relatively recently, it had become rather predictable and entrenched. But over the last half-decade or so, artists as diverse as Suede and Roger Waters have taken to the stage with a new concept – the album gig. Rather than pick and choose randomly from their back catalogue, and lob in some new stuff, acts have been performing selected albums in their entirety. It’s a notion that has proved pretty successful, if only because it raises the intrigue and breaks the bit-of-this-bit-of-that mould.
It’s also an idea Steely Dan, those virtuoso ironists, have embraced with gusto. Bringing an extensive tour to a close, the band booked seven nights at New York’s Beacon Theatre from September 30th. Across these shows they have been delivering ‘Aja’, ‘Gaucho’ and ‘The Royal Scam’, with a second half of greatest hits. I caught the 3rd October gig, a ‘Royal Scam’ set.
In a world of arenas and ice stadia, it’s unusual for a venue to warrant a mention in a review, but The Beacon Theatre is no ordinary room. Officially the older sister of the better known Radio City Music Hall, the theatre was built in 1929 by Sam “Roxy” Rothafel, one of New York’s great theatrical impresarios. Designed by Walter Ahlschlager, it is a riot of Art Deco style, rife with golden arches and burgundy trimmings. With a low-level stage and proud apron, the auditorium isn’t an obvious rock space, offering a refreshingly plush and personal setting without a breeze block in sight.
Actually, The Beacon is probably the perfect setting for Steely Dan. Both are a little long in the tooth, but remain impeccably stylish, utterly idiosyncratic and loaded with unmistakable character. That the band was superb shouldn’t hit you as a surprise. Intricately constructed jazzy, soul rock has been the Dan trademark since 1967, and that sound is faultlessly reproduced on stage. Not reproduced in a Pro-Tools playback sense, though. Their set is shot through with a crunchy, tangible texture that tells you every note is coming from the fingers and lungs of the fourteen performers. Expertise is evident in every second, but never at the expense of feeling.
Without so much as a ‘good evening’, at 9.10pm on a sweltering NY night Steely Dan launched into the eternally brilliant ‘Kid Charlemagne’ and hardly paused for breath until the closing notes of title-track ‘The Royal Scam’, via a crowd-slaying and extended run through a blistering ‘Haitian Divorce’. Only then were we addressed by a grizzled, but still reliably wiry Donald Fagan.
For the most part, Fagan is centre right – hammering away at his electric piano and deliciously sarcastic lyrics. Infrequently though, he’s on his feet, much to the approval of the fans, tooting a melodica. It’s in these moments that the event feels close to being the ‘Donald Fagan Show’. Not because Fagan is an egomaniac; in fact, for such a key figure in music, in his aging t-shirt and sneakers he’s quite unassuming. It’s more that Steely Dan has always been a partnership – Don Fagan and Walter Becker – and Walter is taking a back seat these days.
There’s no obvious reason for this. He’s very definitely up there and, as far as I can tell, in good health and committed to the band. But it’s impossible not to notice how much he now depends on excellent session man, Jon Herington, to perform his famously complex riffs and solos. To be fair, when Steely Dan first broke up in 1983, Becker put his axe down and concentrated on production. So, I suppose it’s not impossible for an incredibly accomplished guitarist to prefer a colleague to do the heavy lifting in later life. However, it does mean that, excepting a planned warm and amusing chat from Walter, it’s Fagan holding our attention.
As promised, the second act takes us on an indulgently nostalgic stroll through the Steely songbook. We’re not disappointed (unless anyone booked tickets with a craving for ‘Rikki Don’t Lose That Number’). How could we be? ‘Peg’, ‘My Old School’ and a ‘Reeling In The Years’ so rousingly perfect, the house is on its feet cheering a good minute before it is complete – we’d have happily stayed all night, soaking up everything in the Dan archive twice over.
Maybe it was the heat of the night or the influence of the jetlag – but this gig was so loaded with vigour and good vibes, I fairly glided down the subway steps as I headed for my hotel downtown. After all, New York and Steely Dan make a powerful combination and, although the band’s seventies heyday is long behind them, just like The Beacon Theatre, there is still every reason to admire their splendour and revel in their history. They were always a class act. That hasn’t changed.
It’s also an idea Steely Dan, those virtuoso ironists, have embraced with gusto. Bringing an extensive tour to a close, the band booked seven nights at New York’s Beacon Theatre from September 30th. Across these shows they have been delivering ‘Aja’, ‘Gaucho’ and ‘The Royal Scam’, with a second half of greatest hits. I caught the 3rd October gig, a ‘Royal Scam’ set.
In a world of arenas and ice stadia, it’s unusual for a venue to warrant a mention in a review, but The Beacon Theatre is no ordinary room. Officially the older sister of the better known Radio City Music Hall, the theatre was built in 1929 by Sam “Roxy” Rothafel, one of New York’s great theatrical impresarios. Designed by Walter Ahlschlager, it is a riot of Art Deco style, rife with golden arches and burgundy trimmings. With a low-level stage and proud apron, the auditorium isn’t an obvious rock space, offering a refreshingly plush and personal setting without a breeze block in sight.
Actually, The Beacon is probably the perfect setting for Steely Dan. Both are a little long in the tooth, but remain impeccably stylish, utterly idiosyncratic and loaded with unmistakable character. That the band was superb shouldn’t hit you as a surprise. Intricately constructed jazzy, soul rock has been the Dan trademark since 1967, and that sound is faultlessly reproduced on stage. Not reproduced in a Pro-Tools playback sense, though. Their set is shot through with a crunchy, tangible texture that tells you every note is coming from the fingers and lungs of the fourteen performers. Expertise is evident in every second, but never at the expense of feeling.
Without so much as a ‘good evening’, at 9.10pm on a sweltering NY night Steely Dan launched into the eternally brilliant ‘Kid Charlemagne’ and hardly paused for breath until the closing notes of title-track ‘The Royal Scam’, via a crowd-slaying and extended run through a blistering ‘Haitian Divorce’. Only then were we addressed by a grizzled, but still reliably wiry Donald Fagan.
For the most part, Fagan is centre right – hammering away at his electric piano and deliciously sarcastic lyrics. Infrequently though, he’s on his feet, much to the approval of the fans, tooting a melodica. It’s in these moments that the event feels close to being the ‘Donald Fagan Show’. Not because Fagan is an egomaniac; in fact, for such a key figure in music, in his aging t-shirt and sneakers he’s quite unassuming. It’s more that Steely Dan has always been a partnership – Don Fagan and Walter Becker – and Walter is taking a back seat these days.
There’s no obvious reason for this. He’s very definitely up there and, as far as I can tell, in good health and committed to the band. But it’s impossible not to notice how much he now depends on excellent session man, Jon Herington, to perform his famously complex riffs and solos. To be fair, when Steely Dan first broke up in 1983, Becker put his axe down and concentrated on production. So, I suppose it’s not impossible for an incredibly accomplished guitarist to prefer a colleague to do the heavy lifting in later life. However, it does mean that, excepting a planned warm and amusing chat from Walter, it’s Fagan holding our attention.
As promised, the second act takes us on an indulgently nostalgic stroll through the Steely songbook. We’re not disappointed (unless anyone booked tickets with a craving for ‘Rikki Don’t Lose That Number’). How could we be? ‘Peg’, ‘My Old School’ and a ‘Reeling In The Years’ so rousingly perfect, the house is on its feet cheering a good minute before it is complete – we’d have happily stayed all night, soaking up everything in the Dan archive twice over.
Maybe it was the heat of the night or the influence of the jetlag – but this gig was so loaded with vigour and good vibes, I fairly glided down the subway steps as I headed for my hotel downtown. After all, New York and Steely Dan make a powerful combination and, although the band’s seventies heyday is long behind them, just like The Beacon Theatre, there is still every reason to admire their splendour and revel in their history. They were always a class act. That hasn’t changed.
