Review Summary: Perfection can only get you so far when the music underneath it is so desperately lacking.
It's kind of sad knowing that to date, Steely Dan's only known big achievement to the folks who aren't big, die-hard Dan fans are
Aja and
Countdown to Ecstasy. Yet at the same time, it's kind of hard to blame the non-believers when said albums are so flawless in every single of the word; while
Katy Lied and
The Royal Scam are great albums, they aren't as immediately grabbing as you'd expect. And because
Aja was so perfect in every sense, a ton of pressure was put on the band to make the ultimate follow up. Problem is; they hadn't been a band in the literal sense for ages, as by this point it was Fagen/Becker with session musicians, and the 70s were approaching their end; their fusion of hard rock and jazz was going to go out of style, with
Aja having seen a notable shift into a more commercial sound. And so because they had gone through a revolving door of session musicians, the recording proved to be absolutely apocalyptic; in fact, this album is often seen as the go-to example for a troubled production (well, it and Wilco's
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot) share the name). If the Wilco album could be called the
Apocalypse Now of album recordings, then this album could be considered
Heaven's Gate.
But putting the apocalyptic production aside (speaking of which, read up about the whole fiasco on TvTropes; it's arguably more interesting than the music),
Gaucho's big problem isn't so much that it's offensively bad, which it's not, it's that the music here is so painfully bland, soulless and void of emotion that as another user correctly put it, almost feels like an uncanny valley effect. Unlike the band's previous releases, which were raw, unpolished and had a brilliantly quirky sense of humour, this album is ultra-polished, perfect and worst of all,
boring. For all the talent appearing on this album, so little of it appears to have been utilized. The songs themselves are too long at 5-6 minutes and seem to run out of ideas at least a minute or two before they reach the end. This is evident right from the first track, "Babylon Sisters"; it's an aimless and plodding tune with an extremely uninteresting jazz beat and a cringe-worthy hook of
"Babylon sisters, shake it". Also worth noting are the unnecessary backup singers; the band has never needed them, but here, and on the rest of the album, it seems gratuitous and forced. They aren't given any particularly interesting lyrics to sing either; which doesn't help.
In fact, the only song on here that is even remotely interesting and features anything worth singing to home about is "Hey Nineteen", where the band attempt to do
something with this newer and more polished sound. For the most part, it works. The change of key in the chorus works to the song's advantage, and even the song proudly embracing its simplistic 4/4 beat isn't bad either. Mind you, it isn't an amazing song and it does fall prey to being a minute too long, but it works for the most part. Sadly, the songs surrounding it just aren't interesting enough to justify all the polish. The most glaring example of a song threatening to get interesting, but then being ruined by a specific part that pushes the simplistic nature front and center is "My Rival". It's a funkier and slower tune that promises to be great and an instant classic, at least in the verses. But then a lame keyboard part comes in and spoils it all. Too much of the album feels like the soundtrack to a 1980s cruise liner safety video too; the saxophones here, where minimal on previous albums, are in all of the tracks, and if I hadn't known better, I'd have expected the "sexy sax guy" from Youtube to come in and begin playing "Careless Whisper". The musicians themselves appear to be phoning in their performances, which only makes Fagen's already rather uncharismatic voice (which worked on previous albums thanks to the fiery music) even more boring.
Of course, hearing this album's final product, it's not hard to see why the band broke up not long after its release. This album may be clean of imperfections, but sadly, it's also clean of humanity, emotion and feeling. Whereas the band's other releases were rough around the edges and unpolished, they were fun to listen to and full of energy. Sadly this is the sound of a band tired, under pressure from all the troubles surrounding its production going through the motions. Thankfully, the band returned to greatness when they reunited in 1995 and the resulting album
Two Against Nature showed the band finally being given the kick they needed to five us some funky and rocking music.
