Today had my IPOD on shuffle and “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” came up. It made me nostalgic. I love the tune and there’s no doubt that Elton John and lyricist Bernie Taupin are of genius quality.
It made me think back through all my Elton moments that stand out. I remember standing in front of the old Kiefer High School, talking about the “Yellow Brick Road” double LP with Jerry Reale. Jerry and I were both collectors, going to great extents to find rare and unusual music. He still does to this day, having amassed a room filled ceiling to floor with all kinds of vinyl. I seem to remember that Jerry wasn’t as big on the Elton LP as I was at the time.
I also recall sitting in the small bedroom belonging to high school buddy Terry Richie while he played, for me, the LP “Don’t Shoot Me, I’m Only The Piano Player” On his turntable. “Crocodile Rock” and Daniel”, my two favorite songs from that particular LP rolled through small speakers in a crisp, new LP sound. Terry loved the Lp.
In college, we would turn the lights out and listen to just a couple of epic songs. One was the Prophet's Somng by Queen, and the "Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding" by Elton. Those songs brought an almost hushed reverence while we college guys sat or laid around the room, hidden in the dark, with only the music to surround and carry us.
I was lucky to see Elton at least three times live as he crossed through Tulsa on his tours. I saw him twice with a full band. The first time was before he put away all the extravagant costumes and glasses. It was a spectacular sight, not to mention the great live performance. This was before huge lit back screens and pyrotechnics. It was some great pure music. At one point Elton came sliding across the grand piano, dressed in a shining, white admiral uniform. The blue lights made him glow as he pounded through the next tunes.
The last time I saw him live was completely by accident. He was appearing at the Tulsa Convention Center. Tickets were expensive and sold fast. Ashley and I committed to working at the AIDS quilt showing in Tulsa, which was also hosted in another section of the Tulsa Convention Center. We worked the day as monitors, eyes on the various AIDS memorial quilts as spectators roamed the huge room in silence.
Late in the day, a representative for John came to the display. He offered some floor seats for a cheap price.. The seats had been opened late by rearrangement of sound equipment. Ashley and I, along with the Vandivers, jumped on the tickets. It was a great solo show… just Elton and his piano.
I went to the concession and ran into my nephew, who asked “What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t get a ticket?”
I explained the situation. Brian had gotten tickets from a scalper. “You bastard, “ he said. He ha paid $150 for a seat in the nosebleed section and our last minute purchases had us on the floor.
Elton’s music production has slowed as he reached his 60’s, but two years ago he popped into my life again though another old favorite. Elton teamed up with his piano hero, Leon Russell to make a new album. “The Union” is a great LP combining Leon’s and Elton’s pianos and styles. It was a shot in the arm for Leon, now 71 years old. In fact, Leon has a new LP slated to hit the stores in a month.
I was thinking… what is my favorite Elton John song? Trouble is, in a long career like his, there seems to be one for every season and mood. But, Elton is a lot more than “just” the piano player.
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Beautiful essay babe.
ReplyDeleteI think when we listened to LPs we were more attentive to the music. Today it's easier to listen to streaming music anytime, which can turn it into background noise. When you talk about listening to one or two songs on vinyl, it reminds me of a Japanese tea ceremony. You had to be careful, for albums were fragile. The ritual: Slide the album out of its sleeve, being careful to hold it by the edges; carefully place it on the turntable, making sure the player is adjusted to 33 1/3; place the needle carefully on the barely visible clear groove that showed the space between songs; sit back and listen. If you wanted to listen again, you had to get up and re-place the needle. It was like the definition of a haiku: an act of attention. It took careful handling, and it was done by hand...no buttons or automated gizmos to do it for you. Sometimes you even had to tinker with the weight of the needle by taping pennies to it. And the needle? The needle was a tiny diamond. The most precious substance on earth to free the most precious gift to humanity: music.