Dan was a perfectionist, a college kid from New York who re-bopped L.A. Snarled voice, dark wit, gloss, parabolic solos over a steady groove: “Do It Again” was the blueprint. He was canny — perverse.
Exuding and exceeding professionalism, he might have become the douche bag he often sang about — a rich coke-head. Too much time in the booth sterilized him. (Sonic detail was awfully hard to lose.) As for the jacket art, it was tossed off; it was a crime.
Ironic.