Steely Dan ‎– Can’t Buy a Thrill (1972)

Can’t Buy a Thrill is the debut album by Steely Dan, released in November 1972 on ABC Records.

The album contains ten songs from the writing team of Donald Fagen and Walter Becker, including the radio evergreens “Do It Again” and “Reelin’ in the Years.” Steely Dan works here as a six-piece with guitarist Jeff “Skunk” Baxter, guitarist and electric sitar player Denny Dias, drummer-percussionist Jim Hodder, and vocalist David Palmer beside keyboardist-vocalist Fagen and bassist-vocalist Becker.

Fagen and Becker set sharp song forms against crisp rhythm patterns, piano-led harmony, layered backing voices, and guitar parts that cut or sway according to each tune’s design.

“Do It Again” uses a Latin-tinged pulse and a repeating figure that give the song its compulsive shape. “Dirty Work” sets close harmony against smooth chord changes, while the chorus tightens the emotional pressure. “Kings” sets bright harmony over a taut beat and a sharp central guitar solo. “Midnite Cruiser” carries a midtempo roll and places the vocal in a loose late-night setting. “Only a Fool Would Say That” sets a pointed lyric against light Latin pulse and relaxed forward motion.

“Reelin’ in the Years” runs on brisk tempo, rising chorus harmonies, and taut guitar lines. “Fire in the Hole” leans on half-time weight and heavy piano placement that hold the song in a tense inward space. “Brooklyn” sways modestly with restrained vocal phrasing that suit its worn domestic scene. “Change of the Guard” uses a more open rhythmic feel and a broader refrain that widen the album’s last stretch. “Turn That Heartbeat Over Again” closes with brisk chord shifts, clear sectional turns, and an elaborate final passage.”

Lyrically, the songs deal with personal corruption, verbal effrontery, and self-deception. “Do It Again” traps its central figure in revenge, lust, and gambling. “Dirty Work” strips a secret affair to use and dependence. “Only a Fool Would Say That” cuts at easy utopian slogans. “Reelin’ in the Years” turns romantic fallout into a running indictment. “Kings” surveys power and hunger, while “Turn That Heartbeat Over Again” ends the sequence with guilt, intoxication, and grotesque humor.

Background and recording

The road to Can’t Buy a Thrill began in November 1971 when producer Gary Katz hired Donald Fagen and Walter Becker as staff songwriters for ABC Dunhill in Los Angeles. When their songs proved too idiosyncratic for other artists, the pair assembled a band at Katz’s encouragement.

Steely Dan debuted with the June 1972 single “Dallas,” sung by Jim Hodder and backed with “Sail the Waterway,” a Fagen-led number. Hodder cut a 1970 album with the Boston psych band Bead Game, an early Katz client. Jeff Baxter had a brief stint in Ultimate Spinach, an earlier Bosstown act.

Sessions for Can’t Buy a Thrill occurred in August 1972 at the Village Recorder in Los Angeles, where Katz produced the album in sequence with Rootin’, the lone album by ABC southern rockers Navasota. ABC soundman Roger Nichols engineered Thrill in sequence with albums by Cashman & West and ex-Smith frontwoman Gayle McCormick.

Auxiliary players included veteran jazz vibraphonist Victor Feldman and guitarist Elliot Randall, a prior member of The Tingling Mother’s Circus. Select passages feature trumpeter Snooky Young and tenor saxophonist Jerome Richardson, both elders of the Lalo Schifrin Orchestra. “Kings” and “Brooklyn” feature The Blackberries, a vocal backing trio—Clydie King, Sherlie Matthews, and Venetta Fields—heard on recent albums by Judee Sill, Mylon, and Pacific Gas & Electric.

A1. “Do It Again” (5:56) | Fagen/Becker | vocals: Fagen

“Do It Again” opens the album with a steady pulse built on conga and drum patterns. Fagen sings the verse lines in a dry, observational tone while the electric sitar traces a repeating figure underneath. The chorus rises through layered backing vocals and a tighter snare snap. Denny Dias plays the electric sitar solo that winds through modal shapes before the track returns to the main riff.

The lyric follows a gambler who repeats the same losing cycle. Each verse shows the character caught in familiar trouble that ends with release back into the world. The chorus repeats the central line with a resigned shrug.

In the mornin you go gunnin’
For the man who stole your water
And you fire till he is done in
But they catch you at the border
And the mourners are all singin’
As they drag you by your feet
But the hangman isn’t hangin’
And they put you on the street

The narrator opens with a cycle of violent revenge and failed punishment. A man hunts down the person who wronged him, gets caught, and seems headed for execution, but the system releases him back into the world, setting up the pattern of repeated mistakes that governs the song.

You go back Jack do it again
Wheel turnin’ ’round and ’round
You go back Jack do it again

He turns the story into a refrain about repetition and compulsion. Jack keeps returning to the same destructive behavior, trapped in a wheel that never stops turning.

When you know she’s no high climber
Then you find your only friend
In a room with your two timer
And you’re sure you’re near the end
Then you love a little wild one
And she brings you only sorrow
All the time you know she’s smilin’
You’ll be on your knees tomorrow

He shifts from crime to betrayal and bad romance, where the narrator falls into another familiar trap. Infidelity, humiliation, and self-inflicted heartbreak replace the earlier violence, but the emotional pattern stays the same: Jack walks straight into sorrow even when he already knows the outcome.

You go back Jack do it again
Wheel turnin’ ’round and ’round
You go back Jack do it again

He repeats the chorus to underline the song’s central idea. Every bad decision feeds the same revolving cycle, and Jack cannot break free from it.

Now you swear and kick and beg us
That you’re not a gamblin’ man
Then you find you’re back in Vegas
With a handle in your hand
Your black cards can make you money
So you hide them when you’re able
In the land of milk and honey
You must put them on the table

He closes with addiction and self-deception, as Jack denies his weakness only to return to gambling at the first chance. The final image makes the cycle explicit: whatever he tries to conceal or control must eventually come back out on the table. The sitar line returns after the final chorus and fades the track on the same insistent pulse that began it.

A2. “Dirty Work” (3:08) | Fagen/Becker | vocals: Palmer

“Dirty Work” sets a mid-tempo sway driven by piano chords and a walking bass line. David Palmer delivers the lead vocal in a smooth delivery while the guitars add clean rhythm strokes. The horns enter on the chorus with short, stabbing phrases that sharpen the edges. Backing vocals fill the refrains and give the line its rounded weight.

The lyric sketches a relationship built on convenience. One party handles the unpleasant tasks while the other stays removed. The verses lay out the dynamic in plain terms and the chorus repeats the admission without apology.

Times are hard
You’re afraid to pay the fee
So you find yourself somebody
Who can do the job for free
When you need a bit of lovin’
Cause your man is out of town
That’s the time you get me runnin’
And you know I’ll be around

The narrator opens by exposing an arrangement built on convenience and exploitation. The woman calls on him when her partner is away, and he knows she uses him as a no-cost substitute for affection and sex.

I’m a fool to do your dirty work
Oh yeah
I don’t wanna do your dirty work
No more
I’m a fool to do your dirty work
Oh yeah

He turns that realization into a bitter refrain, admitting that he has been foolish enough to play this degrading role. At the same time, he begins to resist it, saying he does not want to keep serving her hidden needs.

Light the candle
Put the lock upon the door
You have sent the maid home early
Like a thousand times before
Like the castle in its corner
In a medieval game
I foresee terrible trouble
And I stay here just the same

He describes the ritual of secrecy that surrounds their meetings, with locked doors and familiar preparations for another concealed affair. The chess-like image of the castle suggests entrapment and strategy, while the final line shows that even though he sees the danger clearly, he still cannot make himself walk away.

The arrangement keeps the texture light. Piano and bass hold the foundation while the guitars and horns trade brief responses. “Dirty Work” ends on a clean resolve after the final chorus.

A3. “Kings” (3:45) | Fagen/Becker | vocals: Fagen

“Kings” moves at a brisker clip with a driving rhythm section and bright guitar work. Fagen sings with sharper phrasing while Elliott Randall layers the lead guitar lines across the verses and into a fluid solo. The backing vocals punch in on the chorus and lock the harmonies tight. Piano and organ add rhythmic stabs that push the energy higher.

The lyric surveys figures who rise to power through cunning or force. Each verse sketches a different archetype and the chorus frames their actions with detached irony. The guitar solo rides over the changes with bending notes and rapid runs before the band returns to the main figure.

Now they lay his body down
Sad old men who run this town
I still recall the way
He led the charge and saved the day
Blue blood and rain
I can hear the bugle playin’

The narrator opens at a funeral for a fallen ruler, surrounded by the aging men who still hold power. He remembers the king as a heroic figure who once led from the front, and the images of blood, rain, and bugles cast the scene in military honor and mourning.

We seen the last of Good King Richard
Ring out the past his name lives on
Roll out the bones and raise up your pitcher
Raise up your glass to Good King John

He turns from grief to public ritual, marking the end of one reign while calling for a toast to the next. The chorus mixes remembrance, ceremony, and uneasy succession, as the old king’s legend survives even while power passes onward.

While he plundered far and wide
All his starving children cried
And though we sung his fame
We all went hungry just the same
He meant to shine
To the end of the line

The song then cuts through the heroic image by showing the cost of that glory. While the king sought conquest and reputation, his people suffered hunger, so the stanza exposes the distance between royal ambition and the lives of those left behind. “Kings” closes on the chorus with the full ensemble hitting the final accents together.

A4. “Midnite Cruiser” (4:07) | Fagen/Becker | vocals: Hodder

“Midnite Cruiser” rides a relaxed pulse anchored by Jim Hodder’s lead vocal and steady drum work. The guitars lay down warm rhythm parts while the piano fills the spaces with rolling chords. Becker’s bass line moves underneath with a loose, swinging feel. The arrangement stays uncluttered and lets the vocal sit clearly in front.

The lyric follows a character who drifts through the night in search of motion and escape. The verses paint scenes of late-hour driving and fleeting encounters while the chorus captures the restless pull of the road.

Felonius my old friend
Step on in and let me shake your hand
So glad that you’re here again
For one more time
Let your madness run with mine
Streets still unseen we’ll find somehow
No time is better than now

The narrator greets an old companion with warmth, relief, and a hint of reckless hunger. He wants to rejoin him at once, merge their restless energy, and head back into the city in search of places and possibilities they still have not reached.

Tell me where are you driving
Midnight cruiser
Where is your bounty
Of fortune and fame
I am another
Gentlemen loser
Drive me to Harlem
Or somewhere the same

He turns the song into a nighttime appeal for direction and escape. Addressing his friend as a “midnight cruiser,” he asks where this journey leads, then places himself among the defeated and disillusioned, hoping to be carried toward some place that still holds life, motion, and possibility.

The world that we used to know
People tell me it don’t turn no more
The places we used to go
Familiar faces that ain’t smilin’ like before
The time of our time has come and gone
I fear we been waiting too long

He closes in a mood of loss and late realization, looking back on a world that feels stalled and emotionally drained. The old places remain, but their spirit has faded, and he fears that he and his companion have let their moment pass before they acted.

Hodder’s vocal carries a conversational ease that matches the easy swing of the rhythm section. The track fades on the repeating chorus figure with the guitars and piano trading gentle phrases.

A5. “Only a Fool Would Say That” (2:57) | Fagen/Becker | vocals: Fagen

“Only a Fool Would Say That” keeps the tempo moderate with a clean acoustic-tinged rhythm and subtle electric touches. Fagen delivers the vocal in a wry, measured tone while the backing vocals add tight support on the chorus. The guitars and bass lock into a compact pocket that leaves room for the lyric to land.

The song addresses optimistic declarations that ignore practical limits. The verses list examples of easy advice while the chorus delivers the title line with quiet skepticism. The arrangement stays restrained and lets the words carry the weight.

A world become one
Of salads and sun
Only a fool would say that
A boy with a plan
A natural man
Wearing a white stetson hat
Unhand that gun begone
There’s no one to fire upon
If he’s holding it high
He’s telling a lie

The narrator opens by mocking empty idealism and easy visions of peace. He paints the dreamer as a shallow public figure, dressed for display and preaching harmony, while the presence of the gun exposes the violence and falsehood beneath the utopian pose.

I heard it was you
Talkin’ ’bout a world
Where all is free
It just couldn’t be
And only a fool would say that

He answers that dream directly with disbelief. The chorus rejects the claim that total freedom and universal peace can simply be declared into existence, and it casts that kind of talk as naive at best and dishonest at worst.

The man in the street
Draggin’ his feet
Don’t wanna hear the bad news
Imagine your face
There is his place
Standing inside his brown shoes
You do his nine to five
Drag yourself home half alive
And there on the screen
A man with a dream

He shifts from the public dreamer to the ordinary working person, worn down by labor and daily survival. The stanza contrasts lived exhaustion with the smooth promises of a man on a screen, suggesting that grand slogans mean little to people trapped in routine, strain, and disappointment.

I heard it was you
Talkin’ ’bout a world
Where all is free
It just couldn’t be
And only a fool would say that

He repeats the chorus to reinforce the gap between rhetoric and reality. The idea of a free and unified world still sounds impossible when set against the pressures and inequities of ordinary life.

Anybody on the street
Has murder in his eyes
You feel no pain
And you’re younger
Than you realize

He closes on a darker view of human nature and social tension, where violence sits just below the surface of everyday life. The final lines turn inward and ambiguous, suggesting numbness, denial, or misplaced innocence in the face of that reality. “Only a Fool Would Say That” ends after a short instrumental passage that brings the instruments back to the main pulse.

B1. “Reelin’ In the Years” (4:35) | Fagen/Becker | vocals: Fagen

“Reelin’ In the Years” launches side two with a strong backbeat and layered guitar textures. Fagen sings the verses with cutting precision while the chorus opens up through stacked backing vocals. Elliott Randall contributes the lead guitar solo that enters after the second verse and stretches across wide bends and fast scalar runs. The rhythm section drives the track forward without slack.

The lyric confronts someone who claims wisdom gained through time yet shows little real understanding. The verses catalogue the contradictions while the chorus repeats the central image of spinning through the years without progress.

Your everlasting summer
You can see it fading fast
So you grab a piece of something
That you think is gonna last
You wouldn’t know a diamond
If you held it in your hand
The things you think are precious
I can’t understand

The narrator opens by accusing the other person of clinging to substitutes as youth and pleasure begin to disappear. He sees her chasing shallow forms of security while failing to recognize what actually holds value.

Are you reelin’ in the years
Stowin’ away the time
Are you gatherin’ up the tears
Have you had enough of mine

He turns the song into a bitter chorus of reckoning, asking whether she has learned anything from time, loss, and the pain she has caused. The questions carry both sarcasm and exhaustion, as though he no longer expects an honest answer.

You been tellin’ me you’re a genius
Since you were seventeen
In all the time I’ve known you
I still don’t know what you mean
The weekend at the college
Didn’t turn out like you planned
The things that pass for knowledge
I can’t understand

He mocks her self-image and intellectual pretensions, suggesting that her claims to brilliance have never amounted to much in real life. The failed college episode becomes one more sign that what she calls knowledge looks hollow and performative to him.

Are you reelin’ in the years
Stowin’ away the time
Are you gatherin’ up the tears
Have you had enough of mine

He repeats the chorus to press the same indictment with greater weariness. Time keeps passing, but her habits and the damage she leaves behind seem unchanged.

I spend a lot of money
And I spent a lot of time
The trip we made in Hollywood
Is etched upon my mind
After all the things we’ve done and seen
You find another man
The things you think are useless
I can’t understand

He closes by looking back on the investment he made in the relationship, both emotional and material, and on the shared experiences he thought mattered. Her decision to leave for someone else confirms the distance between their values, and he ends still unable to understand what she dismisses and what she chooses. The solo builds intensity through sustained notes and rapid phrases before the band returns for the final chorus and a clean close.

B2. “Fire in the Hole” (3:28) | Fagen/Becker | vocals: Fagen

“Fire in the Hole” slows the pace with a darker pulse built on piano and a heavier bass presence. Fagen’s vocal sits lower in the register and the guitars add muted rhythmic support. The arrangement builds subtle tension through repeated figures that accumulate weight across the verses.

The lyric sketches a scene of confinement and sudden rupture. The verses describe the pressure and the chorus names the breaking point with direct force. The track maintains a steady pulse that never rushes yet carries an undercurrent of strain.

I decline
To walk the line
They tell me that I’m lazy
Worldly wise
I realize
That everybody’s crazy
A woman’s voice reminds me
To serve and not to speak
Am I myself or just another freak

The narrator opens in defiance, refusing to conform to the rules and expectations others impose on him. He sees the world as irrational, resists the demand for obedience and silence, and begins to question whether his refusal marks true individuality or only deeper alienation.

Don’t you know
There’s fire in the hole
And nothing left to burn
I’d like to run out now
There’s nowhere left to turn

He turns that inner conflict into a crisis image, where destruction has already spread so far that nothing remains to consume. The desire to escape rises at the same moment he realizes escape itself may no longer exist.

With a cough
I shake it off
And work around my yellow stripe
Should I hide
And eat my pride
Or wait until it’s good and ripe
My life is boiling over
It’s happened once before
I wish someone would open up the door

He describes himself trying to keep going through sickness, fear, or visible strain while suppressing what he feels. Pride, delay, and mounting pressure all collide here, and the final plea for an open door suggests he feels trapped inside a cycle that has already broken him once before.

Don’t you know
There’s fire in the hole
And nothing left to burn
I’d like to run out now
There’s nowhere left to turn

He closes by repeating the same warning and the same blocked desire for escape. The refrain leaves him cornered, fully aware of the danger yet unable to find a way beyond it. Suppression of fear leads to building pressure and a repeated wish for release. The final section repeats the main riff with added intensity before the track resolves.

B3. “Brooklyn (Owes the Charmer Under Me)” (4:21) | Fagen/Becker | vocals: Palmer

“Brooklyn (Owes the Charmer Under Me)” returns David Palmer to the lead vocal on a track that sways with a light Latin-tinged rhythm. The guitars and piano weave clean lines while the bass and drums keep the pocket relaxed. Backing vocals add depth to the chorus without crowding the lead.

The lyric evokes a character tied to a place and a figure who holds influence there. The verses unfold the connection in measured steps and the chorus frames the debt with a cool detachment.

A race of angels
Bound with one another
A dish of dollars
Laid out for all to see
A tower room at Eden Rock
His golf at noon for free
Brooklyn owes the charmer
Under me

The narrator opens with images of wealth, privilege, and hidden power. Money, luxury, and social access sit out in plain view, while the repeated line about Brooklyn owing the charmer suggests a figure whose influence reaches beneath the surface of the whole arrangement.

His lady’s aching
To bring a body down
She daily preaches
On where she wants to be
An evening with a movie queen
A face we all have seen
Brooklyn owes the charmer
Under me

He shifts to the charmer’s companion, whose desires mix ambition, status, and destruction. She longs for position and visibility, measuring herself against glamour and celebrity, while the refrain again points to the same hidden structure of debt and control beneath it all.

A case of aces
Done up loose for dealing
A piece of island cooling in the sea
The whole of time we gain or lose
And power enough to choose
Brooklyn owes the charmer
Under me

He closes with images of cards, chance, leisure, and power, as though life itself has become a game played by those who already hold the advantage. The final lines suggest that gain, loss, and choice all rest in the hands of the charmer, whose authority still extends quietly beneath the visible world.

The arrangement keeps the textures airy and lets the vocal melody float over the rhythm section. The track fades on the repeating chorus with gentle instrumental responses.

B4. “Change of the Guard” (3:39) | Fagen/Becker | vocals: Fagen

“Change of the Guard” moves with a steady mid-tempo drive and bright ensemble playing. Fagen handles the lead vocal while the guitars trade rhythmic accents and the piano adds punchy chords. The backing vocals tighten the chorus into a unified line.

The lyric examines shifts in power and allegiance. The verses map the transitions while the chorus marks the moment of turnover with clear-eyed observation. The track builds through layered parts that lock together without excess.

If you listen you can hear it
It’s the laughter in the street
It’s the motion in the music
And the fire beneath your feet
All the signs are right this time
You don’t have to try so very hard
If you live in this world
You’re feelin’ the change of the guard

The narrator opens with a call to recognize a social shift already underway. The signs appear in public energy, music, and collective movement, and he frames the moment as something alive and unavoidable, with a new order rising into place.

All the cowboys and your neighbors
Can you swallow up your pride
Take your guns off if you’re willin’
And you know we’re on your side
If you wanna get thru the years
It’s high time you played your card
If you live in this world
You’re feelin’ the change of the guard

He then turns from observation to appeal, addressing ordinary people and asking them to set aside pride, violence, and old habits. The stanza urges acceptance and participation, presenting the “change of the guard” as a necessary transition that anyone living through the moment must now confront.

B5. “Turn That Heartbeat Over Again” (4:58) | Fagen/Becker | vocals: Fagen/Becker

“Turn That Heartbeat Over Again” closes the album with a rolling rhythm and shifting sections that build across its length. Fagen and Becker share the vocal duties while the full band layers guitars, piano, and tight backing harmonies. The track moves through verse-chorus passages before opening into a broader close.

The lyric traces a cycle of action and consequence with a detached narrative voice. The verses lay out the steps and the chorus delivers the title instruction as both command and observation.

With stocking face I bought a gun
The plan was set the plan was done
Looked at my watch and started for the door
Now the food here ain’t so good no more
And they closed the package store

The narrator opens in a state of criminal intent and dark absurdity, moving with purpose after buying a gun and setting a plan in motion. Everyday complaints about bad food and the closed liquor store sit beside that menace, which gives the scene a wired, unstable edge.

Love your mama, love your brother
Love ’em till they run for cover
Turn the light off, keep your shirt on
Cry a jag on me

He turns the song into a twisted chorus that mixes tenderness, threat, and emotional collapse. Love becomes something excessive and invasive, while the final line invites a breakdown in the middle of all that disorder.

Oh Michael Oh Jesus you know I’m not to blame
You know my reputation for playing a good clean game
Oh Michael Oh Jesus I’ll keep my promise when
You turn that heartbeat over again

He shifts into a plea for absolution, calling on sacred names while trying to deny responsibility. The stanza sounds like a guilty man bargaining for another chance, asking for life, forgiveness, or revival after things have already gone wrong.

My poison’s named you know my brand
So please make mine a double, Sam
Stir it up nice I’ll eat it right here
This highway runs from Paraguay
And I’ve just come all the way

He returns in a mood of intoxicated self-destruction, naming his poison as though addiction and identity have fused together. Drink, travel, and weariness blur into one long descent, with the narrator sounding like a drifter who has crossed great distance only to end up in the same damaged state.

Love your mama, love your brother
Love ’em till they run for cover
Turn the light off, keep your shirt on
Cry a jag on me

He repeats the chorus as a cracked command to love, hide, and fall apart all at once. The refrain keeps its mix of mock comfort and emotional violence, which makes the whole song feel more unhinged each time it returns.

We warned the corpse of William Wright
Not to cuss and drink all night
Ticket in hand I saw him laid to rest
But zombie see and zombie do
He’s here with me and you

He closes with black humor and the grotesque return of the dead, as though bad habits and ruined lives refuse to stay buried. The final image turns the song into a nightmare joke about repetition, contagion, and corruption that still walks among the living.

The arrangement gathers momentum through added instrumental texture and ends the record on a resolved ensemble statement.

Albums Art

The original US issue of Can’t Buy a Thrill came in a gatefold sleeve built around Robert Lockart’s cover design. The front uses a photomontage that sets the title against a lurid collage of urban night-life imagery, most notably a line of prostitutes photographed on Rue du Gros-Horloge in Rouen, France, alongside other pasted elements that give the package its dense tabloid glare. On the lyrical inner-gates, the six-piece band appears in saturated orange monochrome.

The design went through earlier abandoned concepts before this third version reached print, and the band disliked it enough that Becker and Fagen later singled it out as one of the ugliest sleeves attached to their catalog. In Franco-era Spain, the original cover was banned and replaced with a concert photograph of the group.

Release

ABC drew two major singles from the album: “Do It Again,” which reached No. 6 in the US, and “Reelin’ in the Years,” which reached No. 11 in the US and No. 15 in Canada. Probe also issued “Dirty Work” as a Dutch single.

Can’t Buy a Thrill reached No. 17 on the US Billboard album chart and placed at No. 16 on the 1973 year-end list. The album went Gold within the year and later received Platinum certification. Abroad, the album reached No. 46 in Australia.

Tracklist:
A1. Do It Again (5:56)
A2. Dirty Work (3:08)
A3. Kings (3:45)
A4. Midnite Cruiser (4:09)
A5. Only a Fool Would Say That (2:54)
B1. Reelin’ in the Years (4:35)
B2. Fire in the Hole (3:26)
B3. Brooklyn (Owes the Charmer Under Me) (4:20)
B4. Change of the Guard (3:28)
B5. Turn That Heartbeat Over Again (4:58)

Concurrent 7″:
A. Dallas (3:14)
B. Sail the Waterway

Credits:
Walter Becker — electric bass guitar, vocals, writer
Donald Fagen — piano, electric piano, organ, vocals, writer
Jeff “Skunk” Baxter — guitar, pedal steel guitar, Spanish guitar
Denny Dias — guitar, electric sitar
Jim Hodder — drums, percussion, vocals
David Palmer — vocals

Musical guests:
Elliott Randall — lead guitar (A3, B1)
Victor Feldman — keyboard, mallets
Venetta Fields — backing vocals
Clydie King — backing vocals
Sherlie Matthews — backing vocals
Jerome Richardson — tenor saxophone
Snooky Young — trumpet

Gary Katz — producer
Roger Nichols — engineer

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