vinylfanatics.com

**Kamakiriad**
★★★★☆

After the acrimonious dissolution of Steely Dan in 1981, Donald Fagen retreated into a creative cocoon that would eventually birth one of the decade's most prescient musical statements. Following the commercial disappointment of his 1982 solo debut *The Nightfly*, Fagen found himself adrift in a rapidly changing musical landscape, wrestling with personal demons and the challenge of maintaining artistic relevance in an increasingly digital world. The result, eleven years later, was *Kamakiriad* – a fever dream of technological anxiety wrapped in the most immaculate production this side of Aja.

Conceived as a loose song cycle about a cross-country journey in a steam-powered car (the titular Kamakiriad), the album represents Fagen's attempt to grapple with America's technological future while remaining firmly rooted in his jazz-rock sensibilities. It's a concept that could have easily descended into pretentious sci-fi noodling, but Fagen's sardonic wit and melodic sophistication keep things firmly grounded in recognisably human territory.

Musically, *Kamakiriad* finds Fagen pushing his sound into uncharted waters while maintaining the DNA that made Steely Dan essential listening. The album's sonic palette is notably darker and more electronic than his previous work, with drum machines and synthesizers taking precedence over the organic jazz arrangements of old. Yet somehow, it still sounds unmistakably like a Donald Fagen record – those distinctive chord voicings and oblique lyrical observations remain intact, merely refracted through a cyberpunk lens.

The album's centrepiece, "Snowbound," stands as perhaps Fagen's finest solo composition – a haunting meditation on isolation that builds from whispered vulnerability to soaring catharsis. Over a hypnotic groove that somehow makes drum machines sound soulful, Fagen paints a picture of romantic desolation that feels both futuristic and timeless. It's the kind of song that reveals new layers with each listen, a masterclass in emotional complexity disguised as sophisticated pop.

"Trans-Island Skyway" serves as the album's most obvious single, its infectious hook and driving rhythm masking typically mordant observations about urban decay and technological dependence. The track's blend of organic and synthetic elements perfectly encapsulates the album's central tension between human emotion and digital precision. Meanwhile, "Countermoon" showcases Fagen's continued fascination with jazz harmony, its complex chord progressions providing the foundation for some of his most evocative vocals.

The album's weaker moments come when the concept threatens to overwhelm the songs themselves. "Springtime" feels slightly undercooked despite its lovely melody, while "Florida Room" meanders without the focused intensity that characterises the album's best tracks. These are minor quibbles, however, in what amounts to a remarkably cohesive artistic statement.

What's most striking about *Kamakiriad* in retrospect is how accurately it predicted our current technological predicament. Songs like "IGY (What a Beautiful World)" from *The Nightfly* had explored similar themes with optimistic wonder, but here Fagen adopts a more cautious stance, questioning whether our technological progress might be leading us somewhere we don't want to go. It's a remarkably prescient viewpoint that feels even more relevant in our current age of digital anxiety.

The production, handled by Fagen himself alongside Walter Becker, is typically immaculate. Every sonic detail has been carefully considered and placed with surgical precision, creating a listening experience that rewards both casual enjoyment and deep analysis. The use of then-cutting-edge digital technology feels purposeful rather than gimmicky, serving the songs rather than overwhelming them.

While *Kamakiriad* didn't achieve the commercial success of Steely Dan's classic albums, it has aged remarkably well, standing as perhaps the most successful attempt to translate Fagen's aesthetic into a solo context. The album's influence can be heard in everything from Radiohead's *OK Computer* to the current wave of synthwave artists mining similar retro-futuristic territory.

Thirty years on, *Kamakiriad* remains a fascinating snapshot of an artist in transition, successfully bridging the gap between his past achievements and future possibilities. It's an album that rewards patience and repeated listening, revealing itself to be one of the most underrated releases in the Fagen catalogue. In an era of increasing technological dependence, its cautionary tales feel less like science fiction an