Essentially, The Nightfly as an LP lugubriously cruises along from A to Z with expert craftsmanship and complexity whilst never losing its innate intricacy and unexpected accessibility. Even to we who are not accustomed to the era mentioned are sucked in by its charm, its melancholy pseudo-credulousness. A cult classic, maybe; but this doesn’t award it with due credit. As the Wall Street Journal so efficiently dubbed it, the album truly is ”one of pop music’s sneakiest masterpieces”, and much like the protagonists of the stories and spinners of these sceptical yarns, the album itself remains sheltered firmly underground.
