Elton John – ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’
You can’t say that Elton John doesn’t know how to set the stage. With dramatic organ and synthesiser flourishes that extend into an ambitious overture, John kicks off his 1973 magnum opus Goodbye Yellow Brick Road in style. The synthesiser lines aren’t even his: they’re created by album engineer David Hentschel, with John taking on the more stately piano lines. Still, the end result is unmistakably Elton John.
Tumbling seamlessly into the hard-driving rock number ‘Love Lies Bleeding’, John shows off his biggest asset on Goodbye Yellow Brick Road – that being his band. Drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray had been with John for years, but they hadn’t been allowed to play on an entire album until 1971’s Honky Chateau. By that point, they had also recruited guitarist Davey Johnstone, whose thick riffs would give Yellow Brick Road its distinctive crunch. The three band members also contributed the heavenly harmonies that fill out the album, adding another signature element to John’s sound.
Simply put, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road kicks off with the finest side one of any Elton John album. ‘Funeral For a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding’ gives way to the lovely balladry of ‘Candle in the Wind’ before livening things up with the quasi-live epic ‘Bennie and the Jets’. ‘Candle in the Wind’ continues John’s habit of crafting intricately ornate pop ballads, stretching all the way back to ‘Your Song’ and achieving perfection on ‘Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters’. Eulogising Marilyn Monroe, Bernie Taupin lays out one of his saddest and most poignant set of lyrics.
‘Bennie and the Jets’, meanwhile, was custom-made for the largest possible arenas. Although it sounds like it was recorded in a stadium, all of the crowd noises and reverb effects were done in the studio after the basic track was laid down. Representing the peak of John’s glam rock outrageousness, ‘Bennie and the Jets’ could all be different personas that John himself had taken on by 1973. He was a one-man show revue, and he finally grabbed a cabaret-swiping theme song for himself.
John is done frontloading the album just yet. Flipping over to side two presents the album’s title track, which somehow takes the elegant balladry of ‘Candle in the Wind’ and makes it even more cinematic. Borrowing imagery from The Wizard of Oz, Taupin doubles down on his lost cowboy image by forsaking the bright lights of fame and wealth. As a somewhat shy and reserved individual offstage, John could certainly relate to the lyrics, but they served as a strange contrast to the flamboyant artist who entertained thousands of screaming fans night after night. That contrast does nothing to diminish the power of ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’, which still might be the best song that John ever sang.
After the manic introduction provided by the album’s first four songs, it’s inevitable that a comedown is on the way. ‘This Song Had No Title’ lets John show off his fleet-fingered piano work, but the baroque flutes that back him up are just a bit too twee for their own good. It’s at this point in the album that John’s decision to stretch the proceedings out to make a double album seems a bit forced. ‘Grey Seal’ wasn’t even an original song: John first recorded the track in 1970 as the B-side to his single ‘Rock and Roll Madonna’. It’s fine, but just fine and nothing more.
Then comes the album’s most infamous track, the reggae-aping ‘Jamaican Jerk-Off’. As ill-advised as any classic rock song has ever been, ‘Jamaican Jerk-Off’ sees John and Taupin trying their hand at a casual sun-soaked romp, complete with ridiculous vocal interjections and incredibly dated early drum machine. Although The Elton John Band had come to make a name for themselves on Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, every single one of them fumbles their way through ‘Jamaican Jerk-Off’ like they have no idea how to handle lilting rhythms of reggae.
It’s impossible to put it any other way: the non-classics outnumber the classics on Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. However, just because they’re more obscure, that doesn’t mean that the rest of the material is as bad as ‘Jamaican Jerk-Off’. ‘I’ve Seen That Movie Too’ is incredibly successful at crafting a moody noir-like atmosphere. ‘Sweet Painted Lady’ is a laid-back track that has some wonky accordion to add a distinctive Parisian touch to an album recorded at the legendary Château d’Hérouville in France.
‘The Ballad of Danny Bailey’ might seem like it pulls from real life, but the early 1930s gangster is a work of pure fiction that shows off Taupin’s unmatched storytelling abilities. ‘Dirty Little Girl’ is nothing more than a filthy come-on, which sounds especially out of place coming out of John’s mouth. ‘All The Girls Love Alice’ shows off some funky early 1970s production techniques and features a preview of John’s later collaboration with Kiki Dee on ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ with the singer providing backing vocals for this cut.
John decides to end the final side of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road with some rollicking uptempo numbers. First off is ‘Your Sister Can’t Twist (But She Can Rock ‘n Roll)’, a souped-up 1950s-style rocker that is pretty much the same story as ‘Dancing Queen’ only half a decade earlier. Then comes ‘Saturday Night’s Alright (for Fighting)’, the most exciting song that John and his band ever recorded.
Kicking off with some hairy licks from Johnstone, ‘Saturday Night’s Alright’ launches into John’s untamed vocal that only gets more wild and ragged as the song picks up steam. Everyone has their energy cranked up to maximum output as John sings about getting as oiled as a diesel train and finding solace at the bottom of a glass. More than any other song in his catalogue, ‘Saturday Night’s Alright’ shows off John’s effortless ability to switch on charm, charisma, and full-throated uptempo rock and roll.
There’s nowhere to go after the wild release of ‘Saturday Night’s Alright’, so John and Taupin bring things down with an ode to the legendary screen cowboy ‘Roy Rogers’. Some passable slide guitars and a massive cinematic scope do wonders for ‘Roy Rogers’, even if the country tune isn’t quite at the top of John’s numerous ballads. Things get even more country on the following track, the banjo-heavy bluegrass stomper ‘Social Disease’. If you want a thick slice of humorous Elton John, this is your number.
The album closes out with ‘Harmony’, another perfectly fine ballad. By the time you get to its end, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road will have thoroughly shot your senses and led you down the path of exhaustion. It’s the same kind of exhaustion that comes after seeing a highly-entertaining rock show, so John should get points for replicating that fleeting energy on tape.
Sure, had John decided to trim the fat, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road would have been a much better album. In fact, if the tracklisting read like this: ‘Funeral For a Friend / Love Lies Bleeding’, ‘Candle in the Wind’, ‘Bennie and the Jets’, ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’, ‘I’ve Seen That Movie Too’, ‘The Ballad of Danny Bailey’, ‘All The Girls Love Alice’, ‘Saturday Night’s Alright (for Fighting)’ and ‘Roy Rogers’ – there’s a strong case to be made that it would qualify as one of the greatest albums ever made.
Instead, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road is a varied and overstuffed joy of an album that finds Elton John and his collaborators working at the collective peak of their powers. Things would never get this epic or this effortless ever again. But if you decide to embrace the full experience of Yellow Brick Road, even the lesser songs can’t hide what is plainly obvious: Elton John was standing alone as the biggest rock star in the world.
