Became my favorite song of the two post-reunion albums. To me, this is reminiscent in perspective to Haitian Divorce, with a cinematic/script-like feel to the writing.
The first verse/chorus combo details the germination of this character. This is open for interpretation, but I can imagine that Pixeleen is the idea of a 16 year old female artist who's imagined herself as a teenage action hero. Her father wonders what she's drawing while at dinner and she explains her idea. He laughs it off, she gets mad and tosses her work on the floor of the "noodle shop."
So later a budding screenwriter happens upon this sketch when he goes to pick up his dinner. He takes this idea, comes up with his own storyline, and pitches it to a studio as a potential feature film. These older men take the innocent idea and inject "sexiness" into her character, in order to sell on the big screen.
In the bridge, the boundary between reality and fiction dissolves, as the character herself speaks to this "hack." She laments that she used to have character, but that she's been sterilized by people who want her to make them money instead of having true meaning. A film critic who has seen a private screening then pans it for that exact reason.
The final chorus condenses the entire chronology into 8 lines, in the wonderfully-sardonic fashion we've come to expect from Fagen and Becker.
There are two things for me that stand out about this song: First, the vocals of Carolyn Leonhart, and second, the understated grand piano by Bill Charlap.
Became my favorite song of the two post-reunion albums. To me, this is reminiscent in perspective to Haitian Divorce, with a cinematic/script-like feel to the writing.
The first verse/chorus combo details the germination of this character. This is open for interpretation, but I can imagine that Pixeleen is the idea of a 16 year old female artist who's imagined herself as a teenage action hero. Her father wonders what she's drawing while at dinner and she explains her idea. He laughs it off, she gets mad and tosses her work on the floor of the "noodle shop."
So later a budding screenwriter happens upon this sketch when he goes to pick up his dinner. He takes this idea, comes up with his own storyline, and pitches it to a studio as a potential feature film. These older men take the innocent idea and inject "sexiness" into her character, in order to sell on the big screen.
In the bridge, the boundary between reality and fiction dissolves, as the character herself speaks to this "hack." She laments that she used to have character, but that she's been sterilized by people who want her to make them money instead of having true meaning. A film critic who has seen a private screening then pans it for that exact reason.
The final chorus condenses the entire chronology into 8 lines, in the wonderfully-sardonic fashion we've come to expect from Fagen and Becker.
There are two things for me that stand out about this song: First, the vocals of Carolyn Leonhart, and second, the understated grand piano by Bill Charlap.