Monday, Sept. 29, 2003 | 8:21 a.m.
It must have been close to 20 years ago. And something about those albums immediately piqued my interest.
Maybe it was the wondrous cover art. Or perhaps it was the curious titles, "The Royal Scam," "Can't Buy a Thrill" and "Aja" among them.
It was probably the fact that my dad was fairly ambivalent about most popular rock music, but had a handful of Steely Dan's releases in a stack dominated by my mother's tastes.
I recall asking my father if he ever got to see the band in concert, and his response that he wasn't even sure if Steely Dan ever performed live.
They actually did, for a short time, before retiring from the road in 1974 to concentrate on studio efforts.
So it was a strange feeling being at the Mandalay Bay Events Center Saturday night, seeing and hearing a reunited version of the band playing before a crowd of about 5,700.
As luck would have it, my parents were in town for the weekend. So they picked up tickets to the show and my father finally got to see Steely Dan.
But I must report that Steely Dan in concert failed to live up to Steely Dan on vinyl or CD.
I can't say that came as a complete shock. Twenty years between tours will make any band a tad rusty.
What did surprise me, however, was the show's poorly engineered sound balance, hardly what you'd expect from a band famous for sonic perfectionism.
I spent the night's first set on the right-hand side of the stage, closest to frontman Donald Fagen, Steely Dan's primary vocalist and keyboardist.
From that vantage point I heard such 1970s cuts as "Aja," "The Caves of Altamira" and "Black Cow." But I routinely found myself wondering why there were 13 musicians onstage, considering I could only discern about half that many.
Guitarist Jon Herington, in particular, was virtually inaudible from the left bank of speakers, while the group's three female backup singers often overpowered Fagen's lead vocals.
I initially assumed those quirks were somehow intentional, perhaps in part designed to bolster Fagen's fragile voice, rarely tested live before the band's 1990s resurgence.
But when I swung around to the arena's left side -- to sit next to my parents during the second set -- I discovered that the sound over there was even more skewed, only in different ways.
Herington's guitar lines were suddenly omnipresent. The band's four horn players blared over virtually everything else in what should have been a meticulously organized soundscape. And had I not actually seen pianist Ted Baker, I wouldn't have known he was present.
I've been to shows that featured slightly different dynamics from distinct parts of a venue in the past. For example, you could always count on hearing a bit more guitar from Jerry Garcia on the right side at a Grateful Dead concert than on the left.
But I've never encountered anything this dramatic. And having experienced it from both sides -- it was hard to concentrate on much else.
After the show I spoke with a friend who sat dead center in the upper deck, in $45 seats at the back of the arena. And he reported "spectacular" sound, describing his ability to pick out each instrument and marvel at the individual abilities of each and every musician.
I would have liked to have heard that show. Unfortunately, I'm fairly sure only about a third of the crowd -- those sitting down the middle of the arena -- shared that experience.
It's impossible to say how many others detected a significant problem with the sound, considering few, if any, likely had the benefit of a side-to-side comparison.
Quite a few fans did walk out during the set break, though most of those who stuck around seemed happy as they exited after the 2 1/2-hour event.
"Now I can die happy!" one man exclaimed. "I waited a quarter-century for this."
That guy and plenty of others cheered wildly when Fagen and longtime collaborator Walter Becker casually took the stage -- one from each wing -- during opening jazz number "Cubano Chant."
They sang along to Steely Dan classics "Babylon Sisters," "Peg" and "Josie," the latter sadly marred by a silly drum solo by Keith Carlock.
And they danced in the aisles during the rocked-out "Kid Charlemagne" and the two-song encore of "My Old School" and "FM."
The highlights were not at all what I expected. The new songs, "Godwhacker" and "The Last Mall" off this year's "Everything Must Go," jived smoothly with the band's trademark mellow, California vibe.
I liked the way the band, notoriously staid and serious, had a bit of fun with second set opener "The Steely Dan Show," as the lyrics rolled down the screen:
"So buy a program, and/or a hat / You don't pass up a deal like that / It's only promo stuff, but hey it's good enough / For the Steely Dan Show."
And I got a bit of a kick watching the 55-year-old Fagen and the 53-year-old Becker -- a pair of 2001 Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductees -- in action.
The pleasantly goofy Fagen titled his head back as he sang, and walked about the stage with an awkward gait as he played a hand-held keyboard or blew into another such instrument with his mouth.
Looking as if he'd just finished teaching an earth-science class, the professorial Becker, hunkered down in one place, playing understated and occasionally glorious riffs on his guitar.
But in the end, it wasn't enough to convince me Steely Dan truly belongs on the road. I think I'll pop in "Aja," and remember the band the way their precision-oriented recordings intended.
