STEELY DAN Katy Lied (ABC)

Kangaroos, pina cola das, rum and coke, crucifixions. Doctors, drunkards, betrayed friends, insanity, childhood, stockbrokers, Cuban gentlemen, suburban perverts, jazz legends and Jay and the Americans. Not to mention “Do It Again,” “Reelin’ in the Years” and “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number.” Like the best rock composers, Steely Dan’s Walter Becker and Donald Fagen write scenarios with a beginning, middle and end, filled with people:, places and things that are often intriguing, always satisfying. .

But what of Muswellbrook, Hackensack, Biscayne Bay, New York from Radio City to Avenue D, or “that fearsome excavation on Magnolja Blvd.?” Just names to throw you off the scent. Their songs contain maze-like journeys to places exotic and near, but half the fun is in staring at the map.

The other half of the fun, of course, is in the music. Though there are often sophisticated injokes to more or less obscure jazz masters, they remain steeped in standard pop music. With deceptively simple melodies, Steely Dan makes easy listening music, in that it can seem innocuous, promising neither to distract company nor intrude upon conversation. One notes the influence of jazzmen like Charlie Parker, Horace Silver, and Duke Ellington, classic composers like Pierre Boulez, and rock influences from Frankie Valli to the Grass Roots to Bob Dylan, yet no one influence dominates.

For those who choose to become involved in Fagen and Becker’s secret codes, the songs become the conversation. We’ve mused endlessly: Who is Dr. Wu? Where is Snake Mary? What was Katy’s lie? How will your gold teeth roll?. Some of the answers are revealed; the rest we make up.

We find ourselves attracted by the uncertainty in Donald Fagen’s plaintive vocals. While Fagen and Becker’s favorite pose, sarcasm, seems sparked by deep depression, we’re reassured by an undercurrent of tenderness:

Done like a matador I pray for the weekend And hope the little girls still throw roses Elsa I’ll change my bait And move upstate Before the season closes * ,

That’s from “Throw Back the Little Ones,” a song that has something to do with lost friendship but is mostly about fishing.

It seems perfectly natural that Steely Dan almost never tours. Unlike most of our other favorite bands, who reinforce affection by occasional visits to town, Steely Dan remain east coast recluses in L.A. exile. In a way, it’s a good thing; when we saw them live, they were awkward and uncomfortable. Apparently, the studio magic masterminded by Fagen, Becker, producer Gary Katz and engineer Roger Nichols was dissipated by our expectations of immediate gratification. You can’t always buy a thrill.

But their recorded output more than compensates for any stage fright. The pop winsomeness of Can’t But/A Thrill, the blatant hostility of Countdown to Ecstasy, the salty but twisted Pretzel Logic and the bittersweet confessions of Katy Lied more than adequately display the band’s magnetic eloquence.

The thrill may be in discovering that a rock ‘n’ roll band can be as articulate as they are obscure without sounding pretentious: there is always that magical hook. In “Throw Back th6 Little Ones,” they claim that

Hot licks and rhetoric Don’t count much for nothin’ Be glad you can use What you can borrow *

What Steely Dan have borrowed, they have also kept, with vitality and consistency through four albums and three hit singles. Hot licks and rhetoric count for plenty: that line just may be Katy’s lie.

* Copyright American Broadcasting Music [ASCAP] _j