Walter's first solo album 11 Tracks of Whack, was released on September 27, 1994.
Reflecting on the 30th anniversary of 11 Tracks of Whack feels both like reminiscing about an old friend and discovering something new each time I revisit it. It takes me back to the summer of 1994, when my dad gifted me a pre-release copy, earned as a thank-you for his pledge to WUTC, our local NPR station. For a kid raised on Steely Dan, this album was something else—rawer, edgier, more primal. My girlfriend at the time, who had no interest in Steely Dan or Donald Fagen’s polished solo work, loved 11 Tracks of Whack. This became a pattern with future girlfriends, each more drawn to Becker’s raw authenticity than the slick, cerebral veneer of Steely Dan. Walter was always the id to Steely Dan's superego.
Meeting Walter in 2000 on the Two Against Nature tour and recounting the story of receiving that pre-release copy felt like coming full circle. His dry chuckle at my story and his quip that "90% of the copies people had were pre-release" was classic Becker. It was that same humor and irreverence that threaded its way through his music, cutting straight to the truth, no sugarcoating. And once I came to terms with the fact that Walter's voice wasn't the one I expected, it turned out to be exactly the one that I needed.
Walter’s choice to step away from the Steely Dan sound for 11 Tracks of Whack was intentional. He didn't want the album to be "Steely Dan without the singer from Steely Dan." The music had its own identity, distinct from what had come before. Songs like "Surf And/Or Die" are as emotionally resonant and brilliantly written as anything Becker and Fagen ever created. Jon Pareles of The New York Times nailed it when he wrote that Becker's album revealed "who put the edge into Steely Dan." Walter’s jagged voice and jaded characters were all his own, and once you adjusted to hearing his groan instead of Fagen's smooth croon, the brilliance of 11 Tracks of Whack became unmistakable.
For me, 11 Tracks of Whack wasn’t just music—it was a turning point in how I understood Becker’s contribution to the partnership, a realization that his sense of humor, his sharp edges, his proficiency in making the utterly unexpected sound absolutely perfect, and his ability to cut through the bullshit were crucial parts of the magic that was Steely Dan. And as I listen to it now, all these years later, that same feeling remains. It’s still raw, still id-driven, still Walter. And still god-damned brilliant.
Not sure where 30 years have gone! Love this album. Sadly no girlfriend, except the song! 😎