“Bodhisattva”—first song, side one of Countdown to Ecstasy (1973)

This very well might be the first Steely Dan song I ever dropped a needle on, because as I recall, I picked up Countdown to Ecstasy from the mall record store cut-out bin, probably having heard Tom Seiler's brother Bill's recording of this and also their first LP. Seeing how I didn't then, and never have, liked this song, it was an inauspicious introduction—which is probably very Steely Dan, if I think about it now—and only adds richness to my obsession. Likely, for years, I was so put off by this song that I only ever put on side two—so it took me decades to “rediscover” two of my favorite songs, the two immediately following this one: “Razor Boy” and “The Boston Rag.” The second biggest problem with this song is that the minimal lyrics, which are pretty much a wise-ass smirk about the trendy Western embrace of Buddhism, aren't nearly cutting enough, and so are almost certainly misunderstood, and thus enjoyed like an enlitened ice cream cone by the majority of people hearing the song. The bigger problem is that it's jaunty and wanky—you can just picture wide-eyed band nerds in matching leisure suits performing lame choreographed R&B moves before getting off on their solos. That said, I'm complaining within the context of Steely Dan songs (not rock music, in general) for which my standards are impossibly high—and if you listen to this song thinking about oceans of rock wank excess, you might think my criticisms of these guitar parts are insane. I love Denny Dias and Jeff Baxter like they were the sons from my first marriage. But guitar—I love and hate guitar—if one is to ever give or take lessons, the first, and then every odd, subsequent lesson, should be about restraint. I realize the rest of the world loves virtuosity, straight-up rhythm, high energy, a driving beat, lightning fast picking... as well as really ugly synthesizer, and lyrical dumbness. So there isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank my parents, peers, and whatever other influences are responsible for putting me at extreme odds with the rest of the world. One funny story I read about recording this song is that the crappy synth was such a pain in the ass to use that when the song was over, Fagen threw it out the door of the studio, down the stairs, and then they set it on fire. It's too bad they didn't give the same treatment to the song.

—Randy Russell 1.12.20