ALBUM REVIEW: Steely Dan - Countdown to Ecstasy

    Before the 70s even ended, Steely Dan was already satirizing the decade. A striving for clean, consummate musical perfection, paired with ironic lyrics and the nasal, dry voice of Donald Fagan made for a winning combination on their '72 debut album Can't Buy a Thrill. Dan's music was immediately distinguished with its high complexity, strange lyricism, and sarcastic delivery, and the group still managed to find themselves writing contemporary hits through it all. Compared to the elaborate scale of their debut, though, Steely Dan was more than willing to take a different approach to their second album; cut down on session musicians and lean even more into the world of jazz. The resulting album is still Steely Dan's only album arranged for a live group, and it certainly shows. Countdown to Ecstasy is an almost airy record production-wise, and it captures a certain spontaneity and liveliness that was certainly lacking on some moments from their debut album. Their sense of humor isn't gone either, and the resulting album shows Becker and Fagan crafting a sort of post-modern portrait of the landscape around them; a brilliant, caustic image of Los Angeles painted in caricatures of gamblers, drug busts, post-apocalypse, and show biz kids. It's an unbridled success in style and substance, and wholly improves on every aspect of their debut.

    Even when put up against the crisp Can't Buy a Thrill, Countdown is a musical marvel, and I'd argue one of Dan's most accomplished albums from a production standpoint. Undoubtedly the band being able to work as a live unit is the major benefit here, as it gives a certain buff to the sound that was lacking throughout their debut. Perhaps it's an increased level of confidence, which can almost certainly be said for Donald Fagan; the second lead singer of Can't Buy a Thrill that is David Palmer is relegated to backing vocals on this record (thank God), and that means that Fagan is finally free to take the spotlight for the entire album. His perfectly sardonic delivery, paired with the band's ability to play anything from the slunky blues of "Show Biz Kids" to shining jazz pop on "Razor Boy" to bebop improvisations on album opener "Bodhisattva", makes for an effortless, gliding album that manages to soar high into the air. Denny Dias' guitar work is the gold medalist here, and his frantic work on "Bodhisattva" and the almost breezy lines on "King of the World" showcase a remarkable player, backed up by the effective work of Jeff Baxter. His slide guitar work only accentuates the airiness of the album; the almost country-leaning "Pearl of the Quarter" owes its atmosphere heavily to Baxter's slide work. I hesitate to call the album minimalist, but it's about as minimalist as I've ever heard Steely Dan—it's an appealing kind of sparkling clean, stripped of any unnecessary frills and leaving only the bones.

    Lyrically, Steely Dan haven't lost it, either. Some of the most interesting moments lie in the melancholy, especially with the effective hook of "Razor Boy", whose lyrics of desire and fragility keeping in line with the work they began with on Can't Buy a Thrill. Even still, there's a more somber approach to their music here, and sometimes their satire turns to anger. On the Side B opening "Show Biz Kids", Fagan deconstructs the wealthy, privileged offspring of the entertainment world. The kind with all the alcohol they can buy, shapely bodies and Steely Dan shirts. Fagan's conviction turns from sarcastic and humorous to angry for just a moment, as he bites they "don't give a fuck about anybody else". Some of the more silly lyrics about the "el supremo" and the "Coup de Grace' (intentionally mispronounced as the cou-pay-dee-grah) give the song the energy of a Ween song, not far off from a White Pepper leftover. Then there's the Side A closing that is "Your Gold Teeth", an almost karmic expression of gambling your luck: "throw out your gold teeth / do you see how they roll?". The preceding "Boston Rag" is a lament on the past, this time while examining drug abuse, something that's further touched on during the album's most enduring song in "My Old School". Inspired by a drug bust at his old university, there's a certain lament and bitterness towards Bard College, the university where Fagan and Becker both met. The sort of edgy closing that is "King of the World" may be one of the most bleak images of Steely Dan's entire catalog, portraying a nuclear wasteland in the heart of Santa Fe with no chance of survival. All that's left is to relax until you die—you might live 'til Saturday. It's a dismal image of destruction, and one that cements the album's typically more bittersweet imagery.

    Countdown to Ecstasy was a disappointment on the charts with its initial release, topping out at number 35 on the album charts in the States and yielding no hits. Going into 1974, Steely Dan would slowly find itself becoming more and more open to outside musicians, and by '75 the original Steely Dan quintet would effectively dissolve, replaced by a studio group made up of a revolving door of session players. That isn't to discount the work done in the years after either this album or 1974's Pretzel Logic, as Steely Dan remained a more than capable group, but the original group was gone. Countdown to Ecstasy is, in some ways, the ultimate showcase of Steely Dan as a group, lively and impulsive in a way that few other Dan albums manage to feel. It's an exciting record through and through, showcasing a barren version of Steely Dan's perfectionist habits, pairing wonderfully with an even more mocking approach to lyrics that makes for a quintessential helping of Fagan and Becker's music. An unmistakable accomplishment of studio mastery, and one that effective makes Steely Dan kings of the world as far I know.

RATING: ✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Listen to Countdown to Ecstasy.