The tragic pop song Billy Joel felt defined him
Billy Joel was never meant to be the coolest artist in the world. He was simply happy to be playing, and with an ear as good as his, it was impossible to resist half the music he put on the charts. But even ‘The Piano Man’ can admit that he can also be a little too naive behind the scenes.
Joel didn’t really start off that much different from what a lot of people his age were doing. Sure, the piano lessons may have given him a rich understanding of his instrument, but he was always more interested in hearing what he was on the radio. Mozart was fantastic for what he was, but it wasn’t going to pay the bills the same way playing for someone like Little Richard would, and when it didn’t work out with his bands, Joel figured the next best thing was to get behind the microphone.
Once he started gaining traction, the world was introduced to one of the most average rock stars they had ever seen. That’s not meant to be a slam against his music, either. Joel’s songs are among the finest that pop has ever made during the 1970s, but he would sooner forget all the major accolades that came his way. He wasn’t trying to be treated like some musical god, and if anyone were to ask him, he was more interested in seeing where his muse would take him.
That was fine for a few albums, but by the time he became an MTV star, things started to go sideways. He had had some fantastic music come to light during this period, but after making some of his definitive work, he felt that he was getting screwed over when looking at all the money that his management was getting behind his back. While he finally was on steadier ground by the 1990s, there’s no way to go through all that without feeling a bit foolish.
Looking back, Joel said that Broadway did a much better job at explaining his predicament than he ever could, saying, “There’s a song in [the Broadway musical] The Most Happy Fella called ‘I Like Everybody I’ve Met.’ That was me—very serendipitous, happy-go-lucky, trusting everyone. I was burned before, but shrugged it off. But this time, I lost faith in my own judgment: ‘Who am I to write about anything?’ I thought. ‘Who am I to tell people what’s right and wrong?’”
While Joel always made it a point to never sound too preachy in his music, dating all the way back to songs like ‘Honesty’, he went for a much different approach on River of Dreams. He was never looking to make a gospel record that told people how to live their lives, and so when hearing him sing on what would become his final record, it was about trying to find his own sense of spirituality, whether that’s the title track or finding salvation through the eyes of his daughter on ‘Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)’.
In all fairness, the album doesn’t lend itself to the best opening singles, and while Joel was proud of it, it’s easy to see why he eventually bowed out of making records in the traditional sense. The record industry wasn’t really for him anymore, and even if he continued to go out on one tour after the next, he was much more satisfied playing to the people than worrying about someone cheating him out of any contract.
Given the amount of classics he had by that point, why would he need to worry? He had come out with a repertoire where every song could have been a landmark composition, so even if he played concerts for the rest of his life, it would still be hard to narrow down a handful of mandatory songs into one massive setlist.
