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PLAY ME A MEMORY
Confessions of a Billy Joel fan
In seventh grade my friend Rich, already an inveterate fan of a musician I was just beginning to admire, dubbed me a copy of Songs in the Attic, a live compilation of Billy Joel's early work, recorded live. The first track on the album, "Miami 2017 (Seen the Lights Go Out on Broadway)," became, on first listen, my favorite song of all time.
Here we are in 2001 -- 16 years after I first heard the song, 16 years before we find out if its apocalyptic vision will be realized -- and "Miami 2017" still holds the top spot.
For many years, I've prayed for a cooler artist to usurp Billy's throne. Bruce Spingsteen, perhaps, with "Born to Run." REM, with "Nightswimming." Certainly Elvis Costello has an album's worth of songs worthy of the crown.
But the Piano Man, the author of such schwarmerei as "Just The Way You Are" and "This Is The Time to Remember," remains king of my musical hill.
To be fair, there is more to Billy Joel than what you hear on Lite FM, VH-1, and elevators the world over. "Sometimes a Fantasy" ranks with "Whip It" and "The Reflex" as one of the paradigmatic songs about masturbation. "Only the Good Die Young" is an indictment of the Catholic Church's ridiculous position on pre-marital intercourse. In "Captain Jack," a song about heroin addiction, Billy uses the word masturbate. And in "Laura," an obscure track off The Nylon Curtain, he sings the f-word.
Take that, Eminem.
Paul Simon once told Billy that his songs lacked metaphor -- a valid criticism. On the other hand, we always know what Billy's songs are about. The same can't be said for "The Boxer" and "The Obvious Child." See, Billy does not want clever conversation; he never wants to work that hard.
The deepest Billy gets, "Miami 2017" notwithstanding, is "Summer, Highland Falls," a dirge to the monotony of high school summers in Upstate New York. On this early track, we get a glimpse of Billy's simplistic black/white view of the world: "It's either sadness or euphoria."
Fly-by-night fans laud "Uptown Girl" and "Piano Man," but the real aficionados know that as Springsteen has his "Rosalita," so Billy's magnum opus is "Scenes From an Italian Restaurant." The storylines weave together like a plate of spaghetti. After all these years, I still can't seem to wave Brenda and Eddie goodbye.
There are more great songs: the adolescent "All For Leyna," the soulful "Innocent Man," "Say Goodbye To Hollywood." "The Entertainer" turned out to be prophetic; Billy's albums are in the back in the discount rack like another can of beans.
"You May Be Right" is one of the funnier pop songs in recent memory, and it also taught me not to look for apartments in Bedford Stuy. Billy taught me a lot about the city, actually: the millionaires hide at Beekman Place, Anthony works down on Sullivan Street (across from the medical center), Little Italy is, to the Big Man on Mulberry Street, north of Hester and south of Grand. Are we not all impressed with the Halston dress and the people that you knew at Elaine's?
New York City figures prominently in Billy's work, as it does in Springsteen's. Both are storyletters from suburban wastelands on the outskirts of the great city, and of the great city both are enamored.
Billy tried to write a love song to the city. But "New York State Of Mind," mawkish and heavy-handed, sounds like something commissioned by the Chamber of Commerce. You half expect to see EDWARD I. KOCH, MAYOR emblazoned on the jacket label.
Despite the title, "Miami 2017" is also a love song to New York, in the form of futuristic eulogy. Inspired by the 1975 Daily News headline ("Ford to New York: Drop Dead"), the song is about the federal government laying waste to Gotham. The narrator, a survivor of and witness to the apocalypse, remembers from his reluctant new home in South Florida the fall of Babylon.
Each little memory is a monument to the city he loves: the mighty skyline (that falls), the Yankees (picked up for free), the island bridges (that blow up), and especially, the univeral symbol of New York, the bright lights of Broadway (that go out).
There are other nods to the city's personality. A blackout does not stop the rock show in Brooklyn. The churches burn in Harlem, the result of riots. The feds allow Queens to stay (implication: it's part of Long Island, not New York). The union men who comprise the city's militia go on strike rather than fight -- which is exactly what would happen.
When Billy tries to write love songs, he gives us "Honesty" and "She's Got A Way." His intention here was to write a science fiction story -- he says so in the liner notes. But "Miami 2017" stands, ironically, as his greatest love song -- perhaps because remembered love is easier to express than current love, especially in eulogies, where love flows.
This, I suppose, is why the song still haunts me after all this time.
You will continue to dismiss Billy Joel. You will point to his horrid later work, his cornball sentimentality, his wannabe bad-boy persona, "Tell Her About It." I will brook no argument, nor will I agree. The most he will do is throw shadows at you, but he's always a rock star to me.
By Greg Olear
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