Nov
6
2007
Billy Joel - The Entertainer
When you walk into a Billy Joel concert, you know exactly what you’re going to get: A slick show with all the hits and few surprises. On Saturday night at Rexall Place, Billy Joel and his band delivered just that (with a surprise or two thrown in). Opening with a roaring version of Prelude/Angry Young Man (from his 1976 album Turnstiles), Joel’s two-hour set covered all the bases – from lesser-known gems like Zanzibar (52nd Street), to well-traveled hits like You May Be Right (Glass Houses). His set was structured to near perfection. At one point, he offered the crowd a choice between She’s Always A Woman (The Stranger) and Just the Way You Are (The Stranger). A contrivance to be sure, but the crowd played along and demanded to hear both. With mock incredulity, Joel obliged. His patter was light-hearted and self-effacing, even going so far as to mention his driving record and making light of his high car insurance (Joel has been in and out of rehab and has been nailed for drunk driving). He thanked everyone for buying the shitty seats and lamented the lack of special effects (a rotating/elevating piano platform being the extent).
Vienna
The early part of Joel’s set was an entertaining mix of classics and more obscure material, including a ripping shot at Root Beer Rag (Street Life Serenade) and a drop-dead gorgeous version of Vienna (The Stranger). In an entirely unexpected turn, Joel invited one of his roadies, “Chainsaw”, up to sing what he called a “religious song that he’s been working on”. A rousing, scream-along version of AC/DC’s Highway to Hell followed. In the din of baffled, amazed applause, I gave a standing-O. It was a truly unexpected and thrilling moment. Joel ramped the set up to a rocking climax, kicking out We Didn’t Start The Fire (Storm Front), It’s Only Rock and Roll (Glass Houses), and You May Be Right (Glass Houses) to close off his first set. He returned to red and white pinlight spots and did the song that I came to hear, Scenes from an Italian Restaurant (The Stranger). He followed that with a smashing version of Only the Good Die Young (The Stranger). Joel played it up at the end of the show, making like time was short, but there was one more song to do. He dutifully strapped on his harmonica rig and sang a plaintive version of Piano Man (Piano Man), which was made into everyone’s song when he let the crowd sing the final chorus. It was one of those concert moments that gives me chills: when 12,000 people know all the words and sing along.
Piano Man
It would be easy to dismiss Billy Joel as a vanilla pop has-been, but in an age when cynicism and shoe-gazing irony have nearly displaced genuine songwriting talent, Billy Joel’s simple songs, goofy lyrics, and memorable melodies remain a refreshing escape. They have remained popular for precisely the reason that some pointy-headed critics have slammed them: They are simple and people like them. There is little that is challenging or thought-provoking about Billy Joel – Allentown (The Nylon Curtain) and We Didn’t Start The Fire (Storm Front) – are about as political as he gets and that’s a good thing. He clearly knows who he is and what made him. He is, as the song goes, “The Entertainer”. His music and live show are and have always been what music should be sometimes – an escape from the daily travails.
