Steely Dan at The Borgata Atlantic City

C. Adolph: Is there gas in the car?

Simone: Yes, there's gas in the caaaaaar!

Steely Dan - Atlantic City, N.J.

Simone and I have had some good luck on the live music scene in the past few years. While many of our musical heroes (Strummer, Screamin' Jay) have passed on to that great gig in the sky without us having seen them perform, we've been fortunate to catch other favorites whom we thought we'd never get the chance. Moving to the northeast has helped, with its numerous large cities to support a variety of venues and draw names from all over the musical spectrum (King Sunny Ade in Camden, anyone?). But it was in the much despised southeast where our unlikely string of concert opportunities began.

They call Alabama the Crimson Tide...

Two Elvis Costello shows (Nashville & Birmingham), two Tom Waits shows (again, N'ville & B'Ham), Wilco, They Might Be Giants, John Doe (twice at a biker bar in B'ham) and his offshoot project, The Knitters, with Dave Alvin and most surprisingly, a chance to see Steely Dan in Atlanta. Seeing Steely Dan and Tom Waits on back to back weekends in the late summer of '06 was perhaps the most bizarre. Two acts that I had written off as, for the most part, impossible to see live due to their minimal amount of tours and the regionally specific way (the two coasts only, L.A. & NYC) they conducted them.

The only thing to top those improbable weekends of Euterpean delight was a freakish set of circumstances aligning the cosmos a little over a year ago - Simone's job interview in Gotham and Shane McGowan living past forty - that allowed us to catch The Pogues at the Roseland Ballroom on St. Patty's weekend. True kismet. Another implausible bit of luck added Billy Bragg as the opening act for the show.

The gods of song were shining their light out of our asses.

It continued this past weekend at the Borgata in Atlantic City as we were again treated to the unique rock/jazz/pop fusion of Becker and Fagan. The Atlanta show had some drawbacks. Namely, it was 147° in the shade of Chastain Park, you could not bring coolers in (apparently the band forbade it as they had a percentage of the concession sales), Fagan's voice seemed rather strained or, at times, totally shot, I had no weed AND the god-awful omnipresence of Michael McDonald was acutely obvious as not only being the opening act but a sit-in "guest" with The Dan. There is only so much warbling, oatmeal-mouthed, jowly-hound-dog-wailing I can take. I was a fool to believe.

But the Borgata show was quite different.

The Cuervo Gold

The fine Colombian

Make tonight a wonderful thing

Backed by one of the tightest bands I have ever seen, Becker & Fagan ran through their playlist with the ease of two old hep-cats who had been at it for years. Which, of course, they are. Fagan's voice showed none of the signs of decay it had in Atlanta. He was belting it out (sunglassed and doing his best Ray Charles impersonation) with the assistance of three soulful background ladies. Every band should be forced to employ a trio of these alluring chanteuses. Becker's guitar solos were crisp and clean. These were not the typical aging rock stars to be pitied or ridiculed. Is there anything more pathetic than seeing Mick Jagger or Steven Tyler strutting around the stage trying to be youthful and seductive? Becker and Fagan are gentlemen still at the top of their game. Of course, their music was never marketed for teenagers either. That's a step up in the musician's credibility game right there.

The Rent Party '09 Tour, as the boys have labeled it, has had some interesting ideas behind it. Many of the dates are geared around a specific album from their discography (Aja, Gaucho or The Royal Scam) which they play in its entirety (maintaining the conceptual integrity one assumes) with some added songs to pad-out the show. Other shows have been "Internet Request" nights where ticket-holders are e-mailed so they may suggest which tunes they want to hear for that particular set list.

The Atlantic City show was simply a collection of old favorites which obviously benefited from the album-specific gigs. Did I mention?... the band was tight. That cohesion was obviously honed on the LP shows.

The set list (as drunkenly recalled but in no specific order) was:

Do it Again

Dirty Work (Becker has given up the vocals for a soulful rendition from the Ladies)

Reelin' in the Years ( first encore)

My Old School (second encore)

Pretzel Logic

Black Friday (opener)

Daddy Don't Live in That New York City No More (Becker on sing/speak vocals)

Kid Charlemagne (Fuck, I love that song)

Don't Take Me Alive

Black Cow

Aja

Peg

Home at Last

Josie

Babylon Sisters

Hey Nineteen

Simone and I left the show in awe. We never do that. Hell, I usually want to go after the hour mark of most shows. Even for bands I love. As with film, I think the art of the musical concert has been bloated by overindulgence (not the preferred alcohol and drug fueled kind) and a willingness on the artist's part to believe they have so much to offer it can't possibly be squeezed into any time frame less than it took to build China's Great Wall. A little brevity (no film or show should be over 90 minutes with rare exceptions) would be greatly appreciated, keep prices down and be good for the respective businesses.

I assume when you charge over $75 for a concert you feel obligated to perform like a hyperkinetic, masturbatory chimp for three plus hours so everyone feels they got their money's worth - no matter how tired, drawn out or empty is the actual performance.

Steely Dan clocked in at 100 minutes including two encores.

Highly succinct and professional. And that's a band with a 37 year catalog of music at hand.

A confidence you'd expect from one of the coolest, most unique bands to ever emerge from the swampshit of modern pop/rock music.