Becker piped up, "We're going to be wearing defibrillator backpacks. It's like 'Ghostbusters' paraphernalia, only the ghosts we want to avoid seeing are ours."
"Yeah, we have so much [emergency] gear it's like a Glenn Gould movie," Fagen put in.
"People don't know there's such a thing as recreational defibrillation," explained Becker.
Of course, they went on to add, people had thought they were over the hill back in the '70s, when they were in their 20s. "We were considered the enemy of punk bands," said Becker.
"Yeah -- and where are they [punk bands] now?" Fagen sneered.
I can relate to Becker and Fagen, having recently turned 49 myself. It used to be that you couldn't trust anyone over 30; with the greying of the former hipster population, that adage has become "Never trust anyone under 40." There's nobody less trustworthy than a 22-year-old, especially one with a $75 guitar and a 4,000-watt amp rig.
I will be at Jones Beach on August 22 to watch Becker and Fagen deploy their backpack defibrillators during the "Steely Dan show". They were always outsiders, and the fact that they've gone a bit gray and are writing more wistful ballads about underage girls is merely a continuation of their ironic stance. They're my kind of cranks. When you never were hip in the first place, you can't become a square.
Then there are chaps like the Rolling Stones. Mick Jagger at 60-something is like Dorian Gray's picture. Keith Richards (although John has met him several times in the past, and professes to like him very much) looks like something Aubrey Beardsley might have hallucinated after imbibing a little too much laudanum. The idea that these moldy Brits might still consider themselves the bad boys of rock isn't ironic. It's pure kitsch. But fuck 'em if they can't hold down their dinner. Ha ha.
I wouldn't be surprised if the next Stones tour (of course there'll be one) isn't sponsored by Depends. And Viagra.
