Miss Piggy Lunchbox

I believe I only have two CDs with the word “Argentines” in their lyrics. Both of these CDs have been reviewed here this month. The first is Vampire Weekend (“Mansard Roof,” the first track), and now I encounter the word on Billy Joel’s “That’s Not Her Style,” the first track off of 1989’s Storm Front.

There’s a lot here that you’ll recognize, but for the longest time my iPod was only shuffling through crap like “When In Rome” and “Shameless” and so I couldn’t figure out why this would be the only Billy Joel album in J-mez’ collection. Finally, though, I discovered the presence of “We Didn’t Start The Fire” and everything made sense. (Speaking of finally making sense, check out this awesome Wikipedia page on that song.)

What I still can’t make sense of is Billy Joel. The guy is basically music’s biggest enigma. Chuck Klosterman wrote a great profile of him a while ago that reportedly set off Joel something fierce. A good chunk of the profile is about how Joel craves critical approval, and that’s the crux of the enigma. There’s no questioning Joel’s talent, skill, and work ethic, but for some reason there’s this layer of cheese that creates a bit of an emotional distance between the listener and the songs that keeps Joel just out of reach of a “Great” categorization.

All of which is ironic because you can tell this guy feels intensely in a way that most of us can’t understand. His well-publicized battles with his demons seem to be evidence of that, but we also have a number of songs, primarily ballads, where he cuts right through to the core. The best example of that type of song on Storm Front is “And So It Goes,” whose lyrics encapsulate every sentiment about taking risks for love far more poignantly than nearly any other poet and songwriter has been able to do. “Leningrad” isn’t quite as raw emotionally, but its tale of a “cold war kid” making a connection in adulthood with a Soviet man of the same age reveals how powerful the moment was to Joel and how he owns the power of the history of his lifetime.

Joel probably doesn’t get as much credit as he should from the music world, but I can’t quibble too much with him being confined to his “Very Good” status. He kind of brings it on himself, with that layer of silly, bombastic cheese on top of so many of his songs. “Shameless,” with its opening Bryan-Adams-riff, sounds like it was written for Garth Brooks, who did have a hit covering it, and “Storm Front” pushes a metaphor between weather at sea and romantic relationships well past the point of unintentional parody.

Still, Joel is the master at creating songs that you like, even though you think you shouldn’t, and this album is full of them. I can hear what’s wrong with “We Didn’t Start The Fire” and “I Go To Extremes,” for example, but I still like them. And while I’d never think to categorize this album as “Great,” it’s a damned enjoyable piece of musical craftsmanship, and what else really matters? I hope Joel can arrive at that conclusion for himself and find some peace.

Rating:

Mixer: “And So It Goes”
Non-keepers: “Shameless,” “Storm Front,” “When In Rome”
Filed Between: Joel’s The Bridge and Elton John (Greatest Hits 1970-2002)

Tags: 1989, 4 lunchboxes, CD reviews, J-mez' collection, music

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 17th, 2008 at 6:46 am and is filed under CD reviews, music. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.