Donald Fagen
Kamakiriad

THE REVIEW

Life is composed of living and dead moments, capable of marking the existence of all of us like a wound that is impossible to completely heal. Experiences that are hard to endure, bitter to chew, but at the same time life lessons that serve each of us to grow. And then you realize that these are the life lessons that help you, over time, to knowingly reach a certain maturity.

For the record, Donald Fagen, the mind, voice, and keyboardist of Steely Dan, is one of many who keep this concept in mind: man is born, develops on all fronts facing the dangers that surround him, reaches true maturity, until, one day, he finds himself facing the other part of his self. A concept that is also at the base of this "Kamakiriad," a concept album that perfectly places itself at the center of the trilogy, between "The Nightfly" (birth, the '80s) and "Morph The Cat" (the confrontation with ourselves, 2006), and with the production of loyal friend Walter Becker.

Development, progress, a look towards the future. Yes, the future. This album is a journey through time, inside a special car, also called Kamakiri ("Trans-Island Skyway"). The continuation of the flight started exactly 11 years ago, but no longer a Night Flight. A flight towards the sky, among distant planets ("Countermoon"), blossoming trees before any Lake of Nostalgia ("Springtime"), snowy hills ("Snowbound"), a never too veiled hope of finally finding love ("Tomorrow's Girls"), while continuing to float in nothingness, passing Florida ("Florida Room") and even the desert ("On The Dunes"), before even deciding to stop and have tea somewhere in the neighborhood ("Teahouse On The Tracks"), and at the same time deciding whether to continue the journey towards the unknown.

The funky-jazz-pop-rock sound is slightly detached from that of "The Nightfly," but never boring. Keyboard effects that remain impressed in your head without boring (the same "Trans-Island Skyway"), trumpets that sneak in here and there ("Springtime", "Tomorrow's Girls"), phantom similar-blues influences ("Snowbound") and saxophones that can be engaging in their simplicity ("Florida Room").

All that wait of 11 years, in 1993, reserved many surprises, leading to a result that had amazed both positively and negatively. Many spoke of junk, few appreciated Fagen's work like in '82. But, in general, almost everyone was doubtful about his present and future capabilities. Not even he entirely understood the sense of this album (it is rumored that he attended a conference covering his face with a balaclava and disguising his voice out of shame). Yet the sense was there, and it still is.

"Kamakiriad" is an unjustly forgotten album, misunderstood, to be listened to again and re-evaluated. The same concoction as before? Who knows, and who cares. If it's well-made and not tasteless, it's acceptable. Even Springsteen might offer the same rock that characterizes him, but he's still capable of shooting some impressive cartridges.

Humans are humans, and they also make mistakes. But art is art, when it truly is. And this record is art, not a mistake. It may not be as impactful as "The Nightfly," but it is still proof that if a great musician hasn't lost his charisma and imagination, he is still capable of writing beautiful songs, as in the subsequent "Morph The Cat."

The traveler has reached his destination. Mission accomplished, Kamakiri.