“Negative Girl”—eighth song on Two Against Nature (2000)

I don’t know what I thought, twenty years ago, when Steely Dan released an album after twenty years without a studio album. To someone who’s twenty years old, this might all sound crazy, but after having spent twenty years working on a single project, I’m kind of at the point where time and numbers mean very little. Just a couple of years ago, I would have either hated this song or just let it slip by, which is worse, but now I guess I’ve crossed over some kind of threshold, because I dig this song. On first, casual listen, there are elements that can be off-putting, such as when Donald Fagen sings, “More of the same more of the same,” at one point, with no punctuation. Also, if you’re feeling cranky, a possible take on the entire presentation might be that it reminds you of a “spoken word” performance with wanky accompaniment. But you have to listen a little more carefully, which I’m doing now, because it’s anything but wanky—it’s brilliant and beautiful, and all those b-words. When you get to the vibe solo, it’s like a revelation. It’s about thirty seconds long, almost cruel in its brevity. I could listen to that extended for an entire album.

This is timeless music—it could have come out this summer. The first line is about a woman “zooming on a couch”—but since this is ten years prior to the communication company by that name, “zooming” must mean something else—I’m guessing it’s drug related. The title is odd—I might have tried to say it another way, but I suppose all options have been taken—and most of them by the Rolling Stones. Or, say, “Evil Woman”—if you’re Jeff Lynne, or “Questionable Lady”—that sounds like a song Leon Russell or Kris Kristofferson might have been high enough to come up with. And just all those pop (not to mention country) songs by men, whining about a woman—and there’re a few billion—and none of them are quite this one. This song gets pretty specific—to the point that I’m guessing the flesh and blood inspiration for it is out there, knows who she is, and may be amused by it. I hope so, anyway. Who could argue with being called “deliciously toxic” and “exquisitely limpid” and “exhausting and luscious?” You could put that on your resume.

—Randy Russell 10.17.20