Disclaimer:
A playlist:
- “Like a Rolling Stone” – Bob Dylan
- “Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word” – Elton John
- “Free Man in Paris” – Joni Mitchell
- “Aja” – Steely Dan
- “Cell Block Tango” – Chicago Ensemble
- “Carmelita” – Warren Zevon
- “The Heart of Saturday Night” – Tom Waits
- “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine No More”– The Walker Brothers
- “?” – ?
What do you make of it? Seventies heavy, hit-laden, rather MOR.
Could it be a run of songs featured in the back half of season four of Glee? Perhaps you’ve heard all the tunes, or not. Is there an overarching theme?
What exactly do Tom Waits and Chicago have in common? Is it some kind of inter-dimensional K-Tel issue titled Some Hits and Some Album Cuts We Threw Together at the Last Minute Because We Had the Copyrights?
Nope. I have, I hope, something better in mind, a little thought exercise: Haven’t you always thought to yourself, “Wouldn’t I enjoy Billy Joel’s 52nd Street more with less or, better yet, no Billy Joel?” Me too!
52nd Street was a transitional album of sorts for Joel.
He achieved long sought-after success with The Stranger and like a dog who’d caught a car, wondered what to do with it. First and obviously, tour behind his Grammy-winning LP.
I found a setlist from a Carnegie Hall (!) concert in June of 1977 included ‘Prelude/Angry Young Man,’ ‘Souvenir’ and ‘I’ve Loved These Days.’
What? No “Only The Good Die Young?” No “Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song)” I guess the Wallflowers show from a few months ago followed an age-old show biz tradition. Unfortunately.
But then what?
Although The Stranger was Joel’s fifth album, he must have had a sense of apprehension in creating what would be in effect the dreaded sophomore effort, following up on that initial breakthrough a decade in the making. What to do, what to do?
Well, he’s Billy Joel, you know. What do you think he does? He takes The Stranger and goes brasher, broader, and louder.
He plunders genres willy-nilly, he reaches for the biggest emotion he can muster, he blusters and mugs, and even his whispers are turned up to ear-splitting.
This is Billy Joel writ large, because when Billy’s in doubt, he goes huge. Even if huge is not called for at the present moment.
The lineup:
“Big Shot” – “Like a Rolling Stone“
The evisceration. I don’t understand what that spot of unfortunate patois (‘You had to bee a big shot, deent chew?’) was doing there, but okay. The rest of the time he’s in his undershirt, howling out the window at the wind and expecting an answer. Or an apology.
I like that Joel revels in his bile and also that he’s not directing his anger at some failed romantic partner. Even so, he’s overshadowed by Dylan’s precisely focused disdain paired with visceral outrage. Similarly placed in the lead-off position of their respective albums, both songs are specific enough to believe they’re directed at somebody the singer knows and loathes…
(…reputedly Edie Sedgwick for ‘…Stone’ and Bianca Jagger in ‘Big Shot,’ and if that isn’t prime Me Decade Sleaze, I’m Little Johnny Jones.)
It’s exactly what we’d expect from Joel, especially in the late ‘70s. Subtlety? We ain’t got no subtlety. I don’t have to show you any stinkin’ subtlety!
Some lyrics to ponder:
“Honesty” – “Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word”
The weeper. Joel is, of course, an imperfect Yankee parallel to John, a red-white-and-blue reflection without Elton’s glam, self-deprecation, and Old World charm.
Instead, there’s that New York swagger, that hunger to be great worn on his sleeve, the willingness to try on every persona.
Here again perspiring for our pleasure, Billy ties himself up in self-made knots in an effort to extract the title quality from his partner.
He needs, he pleads, he concedes, all in garish primary colors. And while Elton and Bernie can overwrite with the best of them, “Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word” finds them in minor key land, a lamentation mostly straightforward and unadorned and better for it. ‘Sorry Seems…’ is honest. ‘Honesty’ is, while not sorry, overwrought and underwhelming.
Some lyrics to ponder:
“My Life” – “Free Man in Paris“
A romp about getting away from it all. It’s impossible for me to untangle “My Life” from Bosom Buddies, Tom Hanks’ (and to a lesser degree, Peter Scolari’s) breakout role.
If you don’t know, look it up. It’s fully of its era.
Again, both tunes are based on real people, more journalism than fiction, without the fizz of sardonic disapproval. Joni has the advantage, describing Geffen’s sojourn to Paris, whereas Joel’s unnamed protagonist goes to Los Angeles.
There’s no Champs-Elysees in LA, unless you subscribe to Randy Newman’s notion that it might be Sixth Street.
Moreover, Mitchell manages to be empathetic. While our boy, as always, lets some bitterness seep in. Still, both songs have a nice, bouncy rhythm and pop from car speakers with energy and that ’70s production sheen.
Some lyrics to ponder:
“Zanzibar” – “Aja”
The atmospheric jazz exercise. These comparisons are all weighted against Joel, I admit. This one might be the most anti-Billy weighted. It’s all here: the dramatic tempo shifts, vibraphones, a killer horn solo.
But one of these mentions an on-the-nose jazz guitar; the other, an angular banjo.
One is set in some kind of stylized and nostalgic Big Apple; the other, a dude ranch above the sea.
Most of all, one has Steve Gadd and whatever god-level witchery he’s pounding on his collection of skins. You can feel Joel stretching to create an epic here, all big movements, name dropping, drama inflating into melodrama. Yet the rickety foundation remains a simple tale of a horny guy dating a waitress. Meanwhile, Don and Walt spin a gossamer piano line into something like a symphony. Enjoy the journey, they suggest: you may never reach home again.
Some lyrics to ponder:
“Stiletto” – “Cell Block Tango“
The Broadway showstopper. I think it’s the piano that makes “Stiletto” sound like a stage musical number. Visions of a bunch of wannabe company dancers banging across the boards during an audition while a stone-faced director sitting in the lower boxes silently makes notes.
There’s another universe out there where Joel became a writer of musicals rather than pop songs (see his well-regarded trilogy from that possibly fictional place: New York; Newer York; and Newest York).
He’s demonstrated over the years a certain raw musicality that scans well for the stage, people belting out lyrics as if their lives depended on overwhelming a captive audience in a dark hall. Much like Joel himself sings a large percentage of Joel songs. But “Cell Block Tango” is the real thing: hilarious, harrowing, empowering, a multi-tempo, half-spoken tour de force that must bring the house down every single matinee or late show. Is it a perfect homolog to “Stiletto?” No. But it’s Broadway, baby.
Some lyrics to ponder:
“Rosalinda’s Eyes” – “Carmelita”
He’s got a woman on the other side of town and she’s of Latin American extract blues. So far, so good. He’s a musician (BTW, are you guys as tired of musicians writing songs about musicians as you are of writers writing novels about writers?) and isn’t as successful as he wants to be, but he’s got Rosalinda to keep him warm. Still, he knows he’ll have to leave her to take his shot.
A nice little plot, backed by a bit of a Latin flair, marimba and a sopranino recorder solo.
It does exactly what you think it will ten seconds in.
Meanwhile Zevon’s titular romantic partner is most likely from Mexico, or at least gifted with a Mexican-American heritage. He’s also struggling (insert drug habit here). He’s unable to leverage her government subsidies anymore. He’s got a gun; he’s pawned his typewriter (yeah, I know, writer). “Carmelita” wins through detail, seemingly random, but taken all together brings out something nearly Chekovian. Except for the gun. He mentioned it. He’s got to fire it.
Some lyrics to ponder:
“Half a Mile Away” – “(Looking For) The Heart of Saturday Night”
Going downtown anthem. Everybody knows the action is happening downtown. Unless it’s uptown. What we do know is that it’s not where Billy is right now. It’s a half a mile away. All he has to do is escape from the family manse, sneak out under Mama’s nose, and get out to his buddy Little Geo to drink some wine.
On the other paw, a guy who knows where the party is:
He’s been to a few.
He’s been to a few too many, judging from his mournful croak, and even if he’s still hung over, well, it’s that title day’s night again, so it’s incumbent on him to go out, bronchitis be damned. Waits can be a wheelbarrowful over the course of an album, but in small doses, he sounds authentic. Billy sounds simultaneously sanded down and artificially beefed up.
Some lyrics to ponder:
“Until the Night” – “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine (Anymore)“
The swelling ballad. I think he simply lifted that percussive piano intro from the Walker Brothers hit (whose members, as so many before and after, didn’t share the name or were related).
I was surprised to find out that the original was a Frankie Valli solo joint that didn’t go anywhere, chart-wise.
I first recognized the aforementioned riff from an obscure remake, though (by the Nielsen Pearson Band; it rose to no. 56 in 1981). Joel has done the slow-burner before (“If I Only Had the Words [To Tell You],”) and will afterwards (“The Night Is Still Young,”) both to better effect and with less obvious sampling. “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine (Anymore),” building gradually through the verse then exploding in the chorus with exquisite regret, surpasses Joel’s simulacrum simply by being the original.
Some lyrics to ponder:
52nd Street – ?
The album closer. Almost a denouement.
Not quite a summing up. Just a tasty morsel to send you off with a Coke and a smile. Finally, a song where Joel doesn’t do too much or reach too high.
After all that’s come before, all the sweat and manufactured smoke and chest-baring and -beating, he goes out with something of a grace note. I approve.
“52nd Street” compares well with others of its ilk: “Never Forget” from Tusk, “B-Boy Bouillabaisse” off of Paul’s Boutique, “Murder by Numbers” from Synchronicity. And the all-timer, the never-to-be-surpassed throwaway finisher: “Train in Vain.” Thank god he’s not attempting to one-up “Won’t Get Fooled Again.”
I love Billy Joel.
I’ve created my own Billy Joel favorites playlist. I think “Captain Jack” is hilarious (okay, perhaps unintentionally so). “Goodnight Saigon” is as good and as chilling a song about the experience of war as you can fit within the parameters of popular music.
My Joel playlist is contains 17 songs and will probably grow, but there are no 52nd Street songs on it.
Don’t blame me. I didn’t start the fire.
Next, on Wholesale Album Replacement Corner:
The Stones’ Exile on Main Street works better with some Tony Orlando, Blues Image, and Bobby Sherman.
Trust me.
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Interesting thing you’ve done here, Stob. I haven’t listened to this album in its entirety since high school, but I remembered most of the songs and I can see some of the correlation here, when I know the replacement songs. Oddly enough, one of the songs from this album is featured in an article I have coming up, and the same artist you connected it with will be referenced.
As for the need to wholesale 86 every track, I still like some of the songs from this album, but I see your point. I never thought about it, but it is a very high dosage of Billy in his over-the-top Billy-ness (Beeeg shot deeeedn’t ya). I was all in on him back in the day so it was part of his appeal back then for me, but maybe there is a reason I haven’t listened in recent years. Then again, I haven’t listened to any of his albums all the way through in years.
For the title track, I love that the Synchronicity bonus track that was only on cassette was mentioned. For some reason, “Easy Street” from the musical Annie immediately came to mind for that one.
That Exile on Main Street teaser sounds horrifying, not gonna lie.
Thanks, roller. As with much I do, it’s very much tongue-in-cheek. Once I started (with ‘Big Shot’ and then ‘Zanzibar’), I had to run the table. Billy J is a great pop musician; he’s also made it easy to harmlessly tweak. So I did. I look forward to your Joel article.
Looks like the article that references a song off of 52nd Street will run tomorrow.
You know what makes me happy? Waking up and seeing an article by stob about an album I sort-of know. Awesome!
I like the comparisons, even if I don’t always agree. I finally listened to 52nd St as an adult. Short version is I give it a thumbs up, but it’s definitely flawed. But I do think that the first 6 songs are pretty easy to listen to. “Honesty” honestly seems like the song that most needs the Billyness turned down. Way overbearing. But I do think that “Big Shot” is a good song (that one cringe-y line excepted), and would be a really fun one to do at karaoke. “Zanzibar”‘s nod to the Dan is obvious, and is still good despite not being able to reach their heights.
But “My Life”? That song is just on another level for me. It’s all about nostalgia. I hear it and I’m 9 years old again. That chord progression and keyboard that are the intro and outro of the song are so great.
I would love to see your full Billy Joel playlist. And I hope that “Don’t Ask Me Why” is on it. (“All the way to Zinior Grande Cafe…” My personal modegreen.)
Nostalgia is a strong, perhaps unstoppable, force. I just never connected with any of those songs, as opposed to ‘Only Good Die Young’ or ‘Allentown.’ Now for your consideration and disappointment:
Goodnight Saigon
The Entertainer
Scenes from an Italian Restaurant
Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song)
A Matter of Trust
Say Goodbye to Hollywood
Sometimes a Fantasy (the single version)
Vienna
It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me
Allentown
Don’t Ask Me Why (ha ha!)
Only the Good Die Young
Piano Man
You May Be Right
New York State of Mind
Captain Jack
Pressure
Mostly the hits I like. As I dig more deeply into his discography, I’m sure it’ll be extended. In fact, I’m adding ‘The Downeaster “Alexa”‘ as we speak.
Also, I feel the need to begin posturing for a Tony Orlando defense, since I’m guessing he could possibly be used in a negative comparison.
He had me at Bobby Sherman.
I also love quite a bit of what Billy Joel has done. But, like you, nothing on 52nd Street is a favorite. But I can listen to “Vienna” any time.
“Honesty” is good enough for Beyonce to cover, so it is good enough for me.
I like Billy Joel — the only artist I’ve seen more often in concert is Bruce Springsteen — but I can’t take issue with most of what you wrote, Stob. The exception is “Into the Night,” which is one of my favorites of his, despite its being over the top. (Or even because of it.) You can see his homage instincts at work, which will come into full flower on “An Innocent Man.”
Re: That 1977 concert. Since The Stranger didn’t come out until the very end of that year (or even early ’78), I’m not surprised material from that LP wouldn’t have been road-tested a year before.
You’re right, cst. In my remastered version of the post, I used a late ’77 concert, in which he did eight of the nine songs on 52nd Street, plus covers of ‘Let ‘Em In’ and ‘Thunder Road.’ Billy was feeling it back then.
There’s two phases of Joel to me. 1983 and An Innocent Man marks the moment I come in. From that point on I reckon I have a passable knowledge. Pre-1983 I’m strictly limited to Piano Man, It’s Still Rock And Roll To Me and Just The Way You Are.
So I’m late to the party on 52nd Street. Listened to it on my drive home this evening and I’m thinking maybe you had to be there. I definitely got the Walker Brothers comparison on Until The Night, though there was something more unlikely that I was picking up on. Call me crazy but I get hints of Leader Of The Pack. Obviously not the revving motorbike.
Glass Houses contains my two favorite album tracks: “I Don’t Want to Be Alone” and “Sleeping with the Television On”. I checked concert song lists. He plays the latter on occasion, but I can’t find “I Don’t Want to Be Alone”. “Keeping the Faith”, to my ears, almost sounds like a rewrite of “I Don’t Want to Be Alone”. Maybe he just doesn’t like the song.
I thought the title track off The Stranger being showcased so brilliantly in Josh and Benny Safdie’s Uncut Gems(you were robbed part-time Hawaii resident Adam Sandler!) would give him a little indie cred, but alas, I don’t think it happened. Dean Ween likes Joel. There is an all-covers concert. That was so amazing to me. It was like learning that Juliana Hatfield grew up listening to Olivia Newton-John.