The Royal Scam (1976)

Across the fullness of time this appears to more and more shape up as the consensus choice for weakest Steely Dan album of all, at least from the '70s, which may or may not explain why I went apeshit for it at the time of its release. In fact, I spent the better part of a year listening to it at least once every day like clockwork (along with Court and Spark, which I liked even more, and Abbey Road—I remember it now as a lonely time), until the day came when the obsession loosed and infatuation passed and I found it suddenly used up for good and all and have since rarely returned to it. But if I can't still appreciate it the way I once did, I can at least recall many of the details that appealed to me. For example, in "Kid Charlemagne," which kicks the album off with a tale of the adventures of an Owsley Stanley-type drug messiah figure facing a bust; as the household scrambles to gather up their shit and split, this snippet of dialogue occurs: "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." Nice. That's followed by a song that explores the ancient cave paintings of north-central Spain, and then by one narrated by a desperado on the verge of suicide by cop, pleading for his death. And so it goes, all the way through: grinding petty domestic disputes, glamour divorces on film, the plight of West Indies immigrants, Shriners. I don't think Steely Dan songs ever got quite as concrete and specific, focused so clearly on suggestive vignettes, as they are here, and for that I still like them. Meanwhile, the melodics are fading alarmingly, but still present, and the playing and production are uniformly immaculate, the perfection that approaches its own levels of arid excess. But I'm not griping. I'm glad it was there for me when I needed it, and here for me now whenever I like to return.