One very irritating pop song is ‘Crimson and Clover’. Over and over this moronic psychedelia, with its repetitious tremolo, repeats in the mind until all you want is to jump from Ken Kesey’s bus. You find yourself ‘In the Court of the Crimson King’. Is this any better? Rarely has there been a more bombastic august overblown full-length account of going somewhere unreal. Along the dial Donald Fagen sings “They call Alabama the Crimson Tide,” as though his life depends on it. It’s all over, red rover, as Steely Dan tracks with clinical eye the end of the crimson trip.