Silent Partner

By David E. Thigpen

Before the Kenny G's of the world hijacked jazz-pop fusion and turned it into something best suited to elevators, guitarist Walter Becker and keyboardist Donald Fagen used the genre to create sharp, ravishing songs that were as invigorating as Kenny's are insipid. As Steely Dan, the pair combined the ! subversiveness of rock with the cool swing of jazz, yielding seven hit albums and sleek, acerbic singles like Hey Nineteen, about a 30ish Lothario and his drug-loving teenage girlfriend. Becker, whose stringy hair and Fu Manchu lent him a certain wanted-poster chic, and Fagen, in ever present sunglasses, nurtured their legend by seldom performing live, avoiding interviews and generally wrapping themselves in mystique.

Steely Dan disbanded at its peak in 1980, but Fagen resurfaced with two successful solo records in 1982 and 1993. Besides producing a few albums for other musicians (including Fagen), Becker stopped making records completely and holed up in his house in Maui. Now Becker's solo debut, 11 Tracks of Whack, is finally here, and it shows that he has not lost his touch.

At 44, Becker is more preoccupied than ever with the inner-most matters of the heart. Most of his songs, like the sharp blues workout Cringemaker and the lithe My Waterloo, plumb tales of love gone sour. Even though Becker's melodies sometime seem stark and his voice is a mere bleat, his ear for catchy grooves gives Whack soulfulness and heft. Down in the Bottom, the CD's finest cut, chugs forward on a rhythm smart enough to make Smokey Robinson proud and maybe even cool enough to have made Charlie Parker feel like soloing. Don't ever expect the jazz-pop fusion of, say, Yanni to put you in mind of performers like that.