A Sinister and Funky Ode to Sexual Manipulation, a Night-Time Fable of Humiliation and Desperate Longing.
By 1976, Steely Dan had fully retreated behind the glass of the recording studio, their immense, collective genius now channeled exclusively through the brilliant and cynical minds of Donald Fagen and Walter Becker. Their album The Royal Scam was not a party record; it was a plunge into the dark side of the American dream, a landscape populated by hustlers, betrayers, and the utterly disillusioned. This album, which peaked at number 15 on the Billboard 200, was a masterpiece of urban cynicism and musical sophistication. Deep within its complex fabric lies a track that was never a single and never graced the charts, yet it remains one of the most enigmatic and deeply funky pieces of their canon. That song was “The Fez.” Its power is derived entirely from its intoxicating groove and the unnerving, veiled drama of its lyrical content.
The story behind “The Fez” is a dramatic, late-night vignette typical of the Fagen-Becker universe. It’s a theatrical monologue from a narrator trapped in a relationship where the emotional terms are constantly shifting and inherently skewed. The song is a masterful exploration of sexual manipulation and emotional dependency, a soul-funk confessional where desire leads to self-abasement. The central dramatic prop is the “fez” itself—a bizarre, ceremonial, and utterly non-rock-and-roll item of clothing. This garment serves as a metaphor for the peculiar, possibly humiliating, terms of the relationship, the unusual ritual required to secure affection. The narrator’s desperate plea to “please, before you go / put on the fez” is a moment of profound vulnerability, an admission of his absolute, desperate need for this specific, strange comfort, no matter the personal cost.
The music of “The Fez” is the central character in this dramatic seduction. It is pure, irresistible funk-rock, a sound that is both meticulously arranged and profoundly primal. The tight, jazzy rhythm section, the intricate horn lines, and the complex chord changes create a sonic web that draws the listener in, creating a jarring but effective contrast with the song’s dark, unsettling meaning. The track is notable for its soulful depth, highlighted by the unforgettable piano riff, which is often credited to the legendary session player Paul Griffin (and acknowledged in the official writing credit to Fagen/Becker/Jarrett). This groove acts as a kind of sonic anesthetic, making the bitter pill of the lyrics—which speak of a dark transaction of love and control—easier to swallow. Donald Fagen’s vocals, delivered with his signature world-weary detachment, embody the cynical self-awareness of the man making the humiliating plea.
For those of us who came of age with Steely Dan, “The Fez” is a potent dose of nostalgia, a reminder of the intense pleasure of decoding the cryptic narratives that the band offered. It’s a testament to their genius—a song that allows you to surrender to a sublime, sexy beat while simultaneously analyzing the darkest corners of human relationships. It stands as a timeless, deeply emotional, and magnificent piece of musical storytelling, a haunting urban fable set to an irresistible groove.