Rural Hipsters: Steely Dan at the Mid-State Fair, Paso Robles, CA - A look back to the Summer of 2003.

Authors Note – In 2003 I traveled to the farming community of Paso Robles, California to see Steely Dan in concert. I was so certain it would be their last tour that I attended 3 shows in 3 different cities on that tour. They didn't play live between 1975 - 1995 and my thinking was that this tour was the "pension plan" for the duo, providing that last nest egg to see them through retirement. Boy was I wrong. They’ve been one of the most active touring acts over the subsequent 15 years. It also appears Donald Fagen will continue the band’s legacy without partner Walter Becker, who passed away in late 2017. The following is a look back on a great show held at a, shall we say, interesting venue.

Being a big fan of the jazz-rock band, Steely Dan I was excited about the prospects of an upcoming summer tour. The new CD, Everything Must Go, hit the shelves in early June, and, after oh, maybe 200 listens, I’m ready to venture far and wide to see them play live. In fact, I plan to see them multiple times, traveling to a couple different shows in my quest for the perfect live Steely Dan experience.

While ones musical interests often come about through recommendation and happenstance, Steely Dan was one of the bands I discovered on my own, right when their debut LP, Can't Buy a Thrill, was released. Each succeeding LP or CD was purchased the day it hit the shelves.

When the first leg of the tour was announced I was surprised to see that no shows were scheduled for the Bay Area-proper, but rather dates in Paso Robles (at the California Mid-State Fair) and Kelseyville. Odd I thought. The ultimate hip, urban, wise-guy band bypassing the Bay Area? Upon closer review of the schedule it appeared they also bypassed the greater Los Angeles area to play the Orange County Fair in Costa Mesa. Oh well, face the facts, Steely Dan has been around since the early 70s and the fair circuit is a retirement home of sorts for acts still performing years beyond their peak. If my only chance to see the Dan close to home this tour is a 200-mile excursion to the Mid-State Fair then so be it. I bought tickets for the two of us and circled the date on my calendar.

My life has been spent equally between the Bay Area and Los Angeles; as such I’ve passed the Mid-State Fairgrounds in Paso Robles countless times. You can’t miss it, it literally hugs Highway 101 in the southbound direction. The marquee usually reads something akin to the Grand Ole Opry so I never would have guessed I’d be stopping there to see one of my favorite rock band. And what would the crowd be like? I assumed it’ll be made up of Steely Dan freaks from both Southern and Northern California, meeting half way near the central coast for, as co-founder Donald Fagen would put it, “a wingding.” On the other hand, the locals would be there too, a mix of farmers, vintners, cowboys, hicks and hippies. A wingding indeed!

As we entered the Fairgrounds it wasn’t difficult to identify those that were there to see Steely Dan, as opposed to those who would’ve asked, “Which one is Dan?” You see, Cowboy hats are not a common sight at Steely Dan concerts. On the other hand, most of the Dan crowd resembled patrons of a high-tech sales conference, not rural Fair goers. As we walked through the Midway I wondered if Fagen and Walter Becker, Steely Dan’s dynamic duo, would insult the crowd and the venue. These guys were true New Yorkers through-and-through. Would they recognize the irony of the place and comment on it between songs? Probably in a New York minute!

Next my thoughts were that if any member of the band were to walk around and soak up the atmosphere of this strange place, they would stick out like the proverbial sore thumb. Sure enough, while wandering by the Bar-B-Q chicken concession, I saw bassist Tom Barney looking both perplexed and totally out of place. He appeared lost in the maze of taco stands, lemonade huts, and barking carneys. He hightailed it toward the Amphitheater, a fancy name that in the Paso Robles vernacular translates to Tractor Pull Grounds.

Rather than follow Barney to an inevitable guarded gate, we decide to check out some of the more tasteful exhibits, like the NASCAR memorabilia collection of one exhibitor, and the gentleman selling “art” that you plug into the wall so parts of the canvas illuminates. Gee, just when you convince yourself to finally purchase that felt painting of the tiger in the bushes, art goes electric, literally. Damn! Everyone has their breaking point, and as for me, I just couldn’t take anymore high culture that the Fair had to dole out, save the reason I came – Steely Dan. Besides, it’s an hour till show time, so we hit the Fair’s vast assortment of epicurean choices.

Fairs are not for the faint of heart from the perspective of available eats. All diets should be checked at the gate since the barrage of junk food is apparent from the minute one steps on to the fairground. It’s a truly impressive, albeit highly caloric and fattening sight. Stalls dedicated to hotdogs-on-a-stick and pizza slices are commonplace, but a stall that specialized in - and I’m not making this up – Fried Twinkies, caught our eye. Fried Twinkies! Are they out of their minds? Twinkies may top the list of the worst food stuff you can put into your body, and it is the undisputed poster food for empty calories, clogged arteries, and murder (remember Dan White?).

It’s a good thing Elvis didn’t live long enough to see this one coming, although given the cartoon-ish ending to his life, it’s not a stretch to consider that Fried Twinkies would’ve been a staple for the King’s late-night mix of gluttony and debauchery. I can hear ol’ Elvis now, “James, get me six Demerol, four Percodan, two Dilaudin, a B-12 shot, two Flintstone chewables, and have Miss Smith whip me up a batch of them Fried Twinkies.” The executives over at Hostess must lose sleep over the marketing possibilities of that one. Imagine what could have been if Elvis had held on for another 25 years.

As we made our way into the Amphitheater we notice that just behind the souvenir shack selling $30 T-shirts, there was a cow pen filled with large, smelly bovine. This was inside the venue, after you present your ticket, after you’ve gone through security! Oh, the boys from New York City will have a field day with this one, especially if the mild breeze picks up as the twilight turns to night.

The seating can best be described as early elementary school rusted chic (that’s rusted, not rustic), as the seats were of the garden variety metal chairs used at school auditoriums throughout the country. My seat - Section 6, Row RR, Seat 15 – was so rusted out that it should have come with a prerequisite tetanus shot. The crowd was slightly older and generally well behaved, the drug of choice being the concession beer, wine, and mixed concoctions. No cowboys and cowgirls in the Amphitheater. No shouts for With A Gun. Country artist Leroy Parnell was playing on the Fair’s free stage at roughly the same time, which provided the fair-going set their musical fix.

The show began with the band, save Donald and Walter, grooving through a tasty jazz instrumental originally done by Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers. As is custom, Donald and Walter enter from different wings of the stage, take their positions and, after acknowledging the audience, break into the opening song, which tonight was Aja. A weak song to open a show, I comment to my fiancé who, not a fan of the Dan, is just along for the ride. By the third number, Godwhacker, Steely Dan was on a roll, which included a never-before played live Caves of Altamira, and a hot, re-arranged Do it Again that even had her taping her toes and wildly applauding. During one moment of levity between songs, Walter told the crowd that on every stop along the current tour, the band would give a souvenir to the three female back-up singers; a remembrance of sorts from each show. These lovely ladies were then presented the aforementioned Fried Twinkies, which, I’m happy to report, were refused by the shapely sirens. Smart gals, one and all!

An announced 20-minute intermission became 35 minutes for no other reason than to sell more T-shirts and liquid libations. Who says commerce and art doesn’t go together. This gave me the opportunity to people watch and eavesdrop, two art forms developed by sitting for hours on end at airport gates over the past 20 years. A 40-something mother reminds her 16-year old daughter that she was her age when Steely Dan began; two inebriated souls predicting what might be played in the next set, in a manner that suggested the free world depended upon it; the aging surfer dude with the bloodshot eyes grinning at whatever inward thoughts his brain was producing; the woman equally amazed that her daughter bought her tickets and that Steely Dan was actually playing in Paso Robles.

 Just prior to the second set commencing, my thoughts turned to the two communities that existed on the Fair’s property: the locals and those that had traveled to see Steely Dan. Talk about segregation! And I’m certain the locals felt they had the last laugh since we were the ones stuck behind locked gates with smelly cows.

The 11-song second set was sublime as the Dan gave us another live rarity, Haitian Divorce, with Walter on lead vocals. They encored with My Old School and FM, overall a near flawless performance. At the end of the show Donald thanked the crowd, the Ferris wheel, and the unidentified attraction that he mentioned a couple of time throughout the show (the “ejector seat,” a reverse bungee ride), and then said, “see you next time.” We headed north on 101 pondering whether there would truly be a next time.

Although I retain a vivid a memory of purchasing their first album in 1972 -  Can’t Buy a Thrill – it was 31 long years ago. Between their 7^th release Gaucho and 8^th release, the Grammy-winning Two Against Nature, 20 years passed. Sure, we got two great solo efforts from Donald and one interesting work from Walter during those two decades, but could the end be near? Their new release hints at it with lyrics extolling “cancellation day,” “the big adios,” and “were going out of business.” Also, each page of the liner notes has a different picture of a clock, with each an hour later than the last.

For two-thirds of my life this band has been a constant source of joy. She thinks it’s crazy to worship musicians and cannot understand why, after seeing the show in Paso Robles, I would decide to attend two other shows. I tend to think of it as a healthy passion, not unlike skydivers who can't wait for their next jump (I'll pass on that one). Midnight has passed and the lights of Monterey are directly in front of us. My thoughts turn to Donald and Walter and how they comported themselves last night, keeping wisecracks about fairs, farms, carneys, cowboys and rural life to themselves. They are mellowing, getting older, like the rest of us. Is it, as the lyrics of The Last Mall suggest, “The last call?” Only time will tell.