Steely Dan's static showcase of its sophisticated song craft

In some cities on this summer tour, Steely Dan is reproducing some of its classic albums, like Aja, Gaucho, and Royal Scam, in their entirety.

Other stops are all-request nights, with fans predetermining the content online.

Atlantic City got none of that Saturday night. Hey, what are we? Minced clams?

So this was an unadorned outing for the venerable rock band. But the capacity crowd at the Borgata Event Center didn't seem at all disappointed by the Dan's 90-minute hopscotch through what front man Donald Fagen ironically termed "our illustrious career."

Wearing shades, Fagen sat at the front of the stage facing the audience behind his Fender Rhodes keyboard. His chin pointed toward the ceiling as he wrestled with the vocals. He looked like a hedge-fund manager doing a Ray Charles impersonation.

Fagen's voice has always been an acquired taste. On Saturday, it sounded thin and querulous, though it grew more assured as the night wore on.

To his right stood longtime partner Walter Becker noodling away on guitar, sporadically launching into sprawling jazz-inflected solos.

Highlights included a bluesy, tart "Babylon Sisters;" a crisped-up "Peg;" a pungent, knock-'em-stiff version of "Don't Take Me Alive;" and a stinging "Hey Nineteen."

Some songs, notably "Home at Last" and "Josie," simply didn't lend themselves to live performance.

A curiously de rigueur "Kid Charlemagne" was saved by a final flourish, orchestrated by Fagen with a conductor's brio.

The primary qualities of the concert were great horn charts and stop-on-a-microchip arrangements that effectively showcased Steely Dan's sophisticated song craft, which is as sinuous and intricate as a grape vine.

If there was a weak link in the backup band, it was guitarist John Harrington. "Do It Again" could certainly have benefited from a more aggressive approach, and Harrington hit some sour notes during the final encore, a loosey-goosey rendition of "My Old School."

The music had to speak for itself, because this was one static stage show. In fact, the audience moved more than the musicians, creating a sea of bobbing middle-aged heads.

Fagen and Becker never seemed to be trying very hard. Or maybe the most legendary hipsters of the rock era are simply too cool to break a sweat.

And why bother? Touring as Steely Dan is like being a luxury-car salesman: The product practically sells itself.