We left them, twenty years earlier, with Gaucho, their (beautiful) farewell album; we find them again, after a long time (if we disregard the entirely negligible “Alive in America”, released in 1995) with an album that at the same time sounds mature and fresh.
Because Donald Fagen and Walter Becker are two craftsmen of the seven notes capable of molding every single sound until it reaches perfection; the arrangements, meticulous and crystal clear as usual, filter the distinctly jazzy taste that long-time fans are well acquainted with, combining it with the amused cynicism (in the lyrics) of their best times ("Pretzel Logic,” “Katy Lied”).
Despite these obvious similarities to their previous works, this album seems to draw more from Fagen's solo productions, with particular musical references to that “Kamakiriad” (1993), which unfortunately not everyone was able to understand and appreciate. The jazz influences are clearly noticeable in many of the tracks on the album, but special mention goes to the final track, "West of Hollywood,” with a sax solo at the end that seems never to want to end; in other tracks, however, you can breathe funk, blues, pop atmospheres, but everything is packaged with such craftsmanship that you never get the impression of dealing with a qualitatively non-homogeneous work or excessively glossy (which often happens, instead, with bands like Toto, but that's another story).
The sinuous flow of songs like "Cousin Dupree,” "Gaslighting Abbie,” and the splendid title track will keep you glued to the stereo until the end of the album. Then, once finished, you will press that damn play button again to start it all over. And again. And then again... But if your intention is to try to memorize all the complex arrangements, the dissonant and whispered harmonies, the lush sound architectures, take my advice: forget it; it is an album that requires numerous listens to be absorbed and fully assimilated, and believe me, you will never stop exploring it.
And they call it “Easy listening”...