This is intermittently amusing, but reductive and especially dumb on the subject of who and what Steely Dan is, who are several times made the keystone in the arch of the film-maker's thesis. The director doesn't pause to explore why the Dan's singer/ songwriter Donald Fagan does this, but the last verbal exchange of the film is the director Price
calling Fagan on the phone, asking if he'd like to sit down and talk about the genre of "yacht rock." Fagan: "The what genre?" Price: "Yacht rock." Fagan: "Hm. Why don't you . . . Go 'bleep' yourself." Click.
To somebody who doesn't know Steely Dan from 1972-1976 in some detail, this may make Fagan seem like a rude dufus. However, his attitude is 101% true to the tone of their music and lyrics, which are like an amalgamation of Horace Silver (jazz) and Dylan (surreal, critical
rock), and have flat-nothing to do with a "yachty" take on life. This documentary, and several of the recent fans of the genre they themselves defined, mistake the appearance of diagrams (showing which musicians played with Steely Dan who may also have appeared on other soft-rock acts' work) as certain evidence that the Dan is an epitome or even parent of this thing they defined. This claim lacks attention to the real event of listening to a Steely Dan Lp (especially any of the their first FIVE Lps), its words and music, digesting that, and reporting on it. Not a song: the whole album. Try it and and see if you are thinking of yachts at the end of, e.g., "Countdown to Ecstasy" (1973) or "Royal Scam" (1976). The Dan's last two Lps ("Aja" and "Gaucho") especially the latter, became glassier sonically and somewhat more accessible lyrically, but all of their other music, and considerable parts of "Aja" (called the apex of the genre here), are profoundly ironic, full of a bitter poetry skeptical of easy hedonisms, and utterly inimical to this attempt to subsume the Dan into a genre of corporatist heavy pop with a bit of swing that will nonetheless keep you docile in your office chair. Enjoy this as you might, as Michael McDonald (of the late-shape Doobies) shares many funny reflections; he is self-effacing, has a good sense of humor, and is willing to be candid of his experiences in music. This could be very educational for someone who was born after 1990 and has little sense of this music's history. But beware of some key reductions. As Toto guitarist Steve Lukather, also befuddled by the genre label, says, "I played on all those records. Where's my 'bleep' yacht?"
