Peg: Seven Guitarists and the Quest for the Perfect Solo
The legendary story of how Jay Graydon succeeded where six others failed, and why twenty seconds of guitar became the ultimate symbol of Steely Dan's perfectionism.
Seven guitarists. Weeks of studio time. Thousands of dollars in session fees. All for a solo that lasts roughly twenty seconds.
The story of “Peg” has become the defining myth of Steely Dan’s perfectionism—the moment when their obsessive standards crossed from admirable into absurd and somehow came out the other side as genius. Six of the best guitarists in Los Angeles tried and failed to deliver what Becker and Fagen heard in their heads. Then Jay Graydon walked in and nailed it.
This is either a cautionary tale about artistic excess or a vindication of uncompromising vision. Probably both.
The Casualties
The list of guitarists who attempted the “Peg” solo reads like a hall of fame. Walter Becker himself tried. Larry Carlton, who had already contributed brilliant work throughout the album, couldn’t crack it. Rick Derringer. Robben Ford. Denny Dias, a founding member of Steely Dan. Elliott Randall, who had played the iconic solo on “Reelin’ in the Years.”
None of them could do it.
This wasn’t about technical ability. These were virtuosos, among the most skilled session players in the world. The problem was something more elusive: feel, tone, phrasing, the way the solo sat in the track’s bright, punchy mix. Each attempt was competent. None was right.
Becker and Fagen knew what they wanted. They just couldn’t articulate it in terms that translated to guitar strings. So they kept calling guitarists, kept rolling tape, kept shaking their heads.
The Graydon Solution
Jay Graydon was a rising session player known for his precise technique and sophisticated harmonic sense. His approach to the solo was fundamentally different from his predecessors.
Where others had emphasized blues phrasing or rock attitude, Graydon played melodically. His solo uses double-stop bends—two notes bent simultaneously—creating a sound that’s part country, part jazz, entirely distinctive. The tone is bright and cutting, matching the track’s overall brightness rather than fighting against it.
The solo moves fluidly between major and blues tonalities, never committing fully to either. This ambiguity mirrors the song itself, which celebrates its subject without quite revealing who or what that subject is. Graydon’s guitar smiles rather than screams.
He got it in relatively few takes. After weeks of failure, success came quickly—not because Graydon was “better” than Carlton or Randall, but because his particular approach happened to match what Becker and Fagen had been imagining.
The Track Itself
The solo’s mythology sometimes overshadows the song it appears in. “Peg” deserves attention on its own merits—it’s among the most commercially successful tracks Steely Dan ever recorded, a genuine pop hit that sacrificed nothing in sophistication.
Chuck Rainey’s bass line is a masterclass in groove and restraint. He locks with the drums in a pocket so deep it’s practically geological, never overplaying, always serving the song’s forward momentum. This is funk bass that went to finishing school.
Michael McDonald’s backing vocals add the smooth harmonic sheen that would define late-70s California pop. His voice blends with Fagen’s in a way that softens the lead vocal’s edges without diminishing its personality. The “Peg” backing vocal arrangement became a template that dozens of subsequent artists would copy.
The horn section punctuates rather than dominates, adding brightness and energy without cluttering the mix. Every element serves the whole.
The Lyric
Who is Peg? The song addresses someone whose photograph is about to appear in a magazine—a model or actress on the verge of fame. The narrator seems to know her, seems to be warning her about what’s coming, seems both supportive and slightly rueful.
There’s an ambiguity to the relationship that’s typical of Steely Dan. Is this a lover? A friend? Someone the narrator only imagines knowing? The lyric provides enough detail to create a scene without enough to resolve it.
This openness allows the song to function as pure pop celebration. You don’t need to understand who Peg is to enjoy the track. The details create atmosphere; the groove creates joy.
The Sonic Signature
“Peg” is among the brightest-sounding tracks on Aja, which is already a bright-sounding album. The mix emphasizes high frequencies—the crack of the snare, the shimmer of the keyboards, the presence of the vocal. There’s very little mud, very little low-mid buildup.
This brightness was intentional and technically challenging to achieve. Roger Nichols spent significant time EQing each element to sit in its own frequency range, ensuring that nothing masked anything else. The result is a mix that sounds almost three-dimensional—you can point to where each instrument lives in the stereo field.
Legacy
“Peg” has been sampled extensively, most notably by De La Soul on “Eye Know” (1989). The brightness and clarity of the original made it ideal for hip-hop producers looking for clean source material.
But the song’s larger legacy is the story itself. The tale of seven guitarists has become a parable about the costs and rewards of perfectionism. It’s been cited in countless articles about creative obsession, used as both cautionary tale and inspiration.
What the story really demonstrates is that creative vision isn’t always communicable. Becker and Fagen couldn’t explain what they wanted; they could only recognize it when they heard it. That required patience, budget, and a willingness to keep searching when rational people would have settled.
The twenty-second solo that Jay Graydon played is probably indistinguishable from what Robben Ford or Larry Carlton might have delivered. The difference existed in Becker and Fagen’s heads—and their refusal to compromise on what was in their heads is what made Steely Dan Steely Dan.