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Donald Fagen “The Nightfly” (1982)

This is one of those albums – like Marquee Moon, like Exile on Main Street – that I’ve always liked, but that the years since my initial purchase have only deepened my appreciation of its qualities. I think that everyone who cares already knows this record, so I’ll just focus in on the things that I dote on the most. First and foremost, we have “I.G.Y.” which is quite possibly the greatest song Fagen ever wrote or will write. Though coming off as an incredible and subtle little pop tune, this one reaches far and wide, offering up a vision of the United States circa 1957 (note – pre-Vietnam conflict, pre-Kennedy/King assassinations), where boundless promise seemed like the norm of the nation and you’d have to admit it, the future looks bright. But to release it in 1982, early on in the Reagan era, it takes on a totally different meaning – not quite the simple sarcastic riposte that it could have been, but more a longing look at what happened in the U.S. between that era of promise and today – with “today” not just meaning 1982, but also 1969, also 2002, also 2006, and probably 2023 as well. It’s an amazing song to me, among the best pop tunes ever, and imbued with a depth and intelligence that lesser songwriters (and novice listeners) would miss entirely. Terrific shit, and it’s only the beginning – “Green Flower Street” seems like a simple love song but glances off racial relations in the process; “Ruby Baby” is probably just a great, soulful cover, but what a cover it is! And the album keeps going like that, sometimes sticking with the personal, sometimes alluding to the political, and sometimes mixing them up to great effect, as in “New Frontier” and “Walk Between Raindrops.” Every song here is a finely crafted masterwork, as you’d expect from one of the brains behind Steely Dan, but I think that this may actually trump most of Dan’s albums for me because Fagen actually sounds less cynical here – even happy. It may be a guarded and cautious happiness, but I know happiness when I hear it, and it is here. —Patrick

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