“Florida Room”—sixth song on Kamakiriad (Donald Fagen) (1993)

First of all, what does “Florida Room” mean to you—I mean, without listening to the lyrics or doing any research? I love questions like this. Presuming you don’t live in Florida, and let’s say in a colder climate, you might have a room in your house where you replicate the balmy, tropical, exoticism of the “Sunshine State.” In the house where I grew up, in northern Ohio, we had a room that was between the living room and the attached garage, that was essentially a family room that had jalousie windows covering the front and back walls (facing east and west), so that on warm days we could allow the breeze to blow through. We called it the “breezeway.” We didn’t take a lot of trips to Florida, but on one in 1972, we brought back a lot of decorations—like fishnets, glass buoys, cork, starfish, etc. And the best, a dried pufferfish made into a hanging lamp. We also picked up similar, exotic, “Oriental” items at the Kon-Tiki, a famous Tiki bar and restaurant, in Cleveland, and the Kahiki, a similar (but even better) Polynesian restaurant, in Columbus. Eventually our breezeway looked like something between an old-school Chinese restaurant and Matt Helm’s bachelor pad. We didn’t, however, call it the Florida Room—and the internet tells me it’s more like an enclosed patio or sunroom—though I suppose the definition could be quite broad.

The song starts off with an odd, tad unsettling intro that sounds nothing like the rest of the song—but cleverly sets it up to settle into an extremely mellow, soul groove, with super smooth horns and backing vocals. The music perfectly complements the evocative images of hanging out in the tropics during the cold months up north—maybe nothing more complicated than that—though you could possibly, metaphorically, interpret some hot sex—and why not. It’s a nice song. It’s interesting, looking at the years these Becker, Fagen, and later SD records came out—spread out as they were—even though the music sounds as fresh as yesterday. While this one (Kamakiriad) was being recorded, I was just getting back to (after years away) appreciating old Steely Dan stuff, and I also made my last trip in Florida, in the midst of a bitterly cold Midwest winter. I rented a car, drove through the Everglades and down to Key West, and generally felt like this song sounds. It was right before I quit drinking, too, so I’m sure I enjoyed some rum, coconut milk, and pineapple juice as I walked around at night in the balmy air, taking in the exotic sounds and smells. I suppose I was already feeling old—years away from those earlier Florida visits. If I would have been smart, I might have bought this record when it came out and really appreciated it then—but it takes years and years, sometimes, to come around to things—so consider yourself lucky if it eventually happens.

—Randy Russell 7.31.22