“The Caves of Altamira”—second song, side one of The Royal Scam (1976)

How much would I have to pay to buy this song? Do really rich people do that? Buy songs, just for their own personal use? I don't think they (“Steely Dan”) would sell, even if I did offer a lot of money. The messed up thing, of course, is that I don't need to own it—I can listen for free—and I can almost do with it what I would do with it if I did own it. It's an odd world. But why this song? It's one of my favorite songs—but I can't offer a good reason why—it just has this incredibly compelling forward drive to it like nothing else (I mean, among songs that still feel relaxed and still have a groove). So if you were to, say, present your life as a TV show, which is something I think we all fantasize about doing, this would be my title song. It's about, literally, a person viewing the cave paintings of Altamira, but, of course, using that as an allegory for all, say, cultural things, and the stuff that turned on the singer of the song, from childhood to present day. Kind of the ultimate version of cranky old guy finding more value in the things that first inspired him than the current, watered-down versions. I mean, it's a matter of opinion, but it's something every generation feels, or at least those of us who are critically minded, well-versed, and maintain a sense of history.

Musically, I often find that horn parts dilute the power of a song, I mean for me—but here it's the opposite. And the way the piano hits those three forceful chords after each line of the verse, and then how there's that progression of like 11 notes after each chorus—that's something I never get tired of. And as with all Steely Dan songs, it starts with the drums, and the bass, and seeing as they're played here by, as far as I can tell from research, Bernard Purdie and Chuck Rainey, it makes perfect sense—seeing how those guys are pretty much the best—that the love I have for this song is based on a foundation of bold yet subtle, viscerally deep excellence. That sax solo, too, is just kind of perfect for what it is. Oh, and the way Fagen sings “worldly wonder” just kills me. I think that will be the name of my TV show: “Randy Russell's Worldly Wonder.” And then the horns on the fadeout, that's going to play over—in the title credits of my TV show—about a dozen repeated jump cuts of me getting out of my Lamborghini, with a wink to the camera and an acknowledging point of my finger to either God, or you, the viewer.

—Randy Russell 2.2.20