Fagen remains as irascible as ever, darkly witty in his lyrics, while that voice and its quirky phrasing remains as distinct as ever (no-one else could bring glee to a line like ‘souvenirs of perfect doom’). And of course, in cahoots with long time pal Michael Leonhart, that signature studio sound remains as tight and detailed as ever. That said, this is lighter fare than the masterful Morph The Cat – the surreal political edge is less to the fore. Instead the emphasis is on relationships, cross-generational angst and the spiking of pretence. And of course, there's all those grooves, laid down by the crème de la crème, be it Leonhart's horn on ‘Memorabilia’ or the class Herington drips everywhere, notably on the to-die-for blues groove of ‘Weather In My Head’. The Nightfly it may not be, but Sunken Condos remains a class above what purports to be intelligent rock out there in radioland.