Happy sixty-sixth birthday, Bob! That was the idea behind Smoking Section Presents: Rolling Thunder Reborn, a gig we put on at a club in Manhattan’s Alphabet City, featuring a who’s-who of young New York musicians obsessed with Bobby D. Check out highlights on the RS Web site. The S.S. must admit — with corroboration from actor Mickey Rourke, who was also in the house — that we killed it! That said, if you ever want to be humbled by a team of musicians, go see Steely Dan. That’s what we did, catching SD at their two-night blowout at New York’s Beacon Theatre. Backstage, we caught up with our heroes Donald Fagen — the high-tech, bonus-packed box set of his trilogy of solo albums is out in July — and Walter Becker, who’s nearly done with solo album number two. SD will play at least five gigs at the Beacon this year, just a few shows less than the Allman Brothers played there in March. “Eventually we want to have a monthlong battle of the bands with the Allmans,” says Becker. “It’ll be epic, and the loser will be sent back to Swampfuck, Georgia.” Based on the Dan gigs, our money’s on Steely. “Wait, now the Allman Brothers are gonna beat the shit out of us,” says Becker. “When you write this, substitute Toto for the Allmans.” Done!

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We are happy to announce that two of our pals — Dave Matthews and Killers frontman Brandon Flowers — are expecting babies (separately)! “It’s a boy,” says Flowers, whose wife is eight months pregnant. “I’m so excited.” Matthews will welcome child number three, sex currently unknown. “We’ll keep the magic of our eyes being the witness,” says Matthews, already a pop to twin girls. How far along is Dave’s wife? “As my wife says,” he tells the S.S., “it’s cooked.” Yesss!

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We really dug Ben Harper’s 2006 double disc Both Sides of the Gun, and he’s knocked us out again. After one listen, we know that his upcoming album, Lifeline, is a special one. “I’ve been trying to make this record for a long time,” he tells the S.S., adding that the acoustic-soul stunner was recorded on an analog machine (”some old-school shit”) at a studio in Paris (”a lifelong dream”). He calls it a true musical collaboration with his band, the Innocent Criminals, and his most grown-up record to date. It sounds like a lonely record, we say. “It’s hard to say it better than that, for sure,” he says. “Loneliness and longing. Being away from home.” The band cut it in seven days, working from noon to 5 a.m. “We got a song called ‘Paris Sunrise Number 7,’ because we saw the sun come up every morning. We’d walk out, get an espresso, a croissant, and go crash out. Well, a scotch too.”