I Almost Bought A Billy Joel Album!

With a Bandcamp Friday and a trip to Amoeba helping me get through the kid’s first month of school, I’m going to have plenty of Canon Fodder posts in the future. I scored some quality albums I've been eager to own and repurchased some CDs I wanted now that CD-R mixes don't cut the mustard. I even threw pairs of dollars to the wind on some clearance CDs I might like. But the most striking experience I had scouring the racks involved something I didn't get: a jam-packed multiplatinum double-CD featuring songs I love that I wouldn't even spend five bucks on. I thought long and hard about it, looked at the track-listing, considered the pros and cons. In the end, I just couldn’t bring myself to risk…what? What was I risking? And what album could inspire such torment?

Billy Joel. Greatest Hits Vol. I & II. That’s the one.

Billy Joel is, without question, an American original. William, as Gwyneth Paltrow knows him, started out as a pugnacious piano prodigy from Long Island, dropping out of school despite good grades to play bars and provide for the family his father abandoned. The guy loved doo-wop, glam, metal, Beethoven, soul, anything that had some craft and razzle-dazzle. And, like so many musically minded to a fault men in the sixties, from a Canadian poet in his late 20s named Leonard to a Noo Yawk college radio DJ mixing Ornette with "Ooby Dooby" named Lou, Billy Joel saw Bob Dylan and said, “hey, that could be me blowing everybody’s mind with my songs and my challenging opinions.” Dylan launched a thousand careers that looked not bloody likely beforehand, showing countless songwriters they could become singers without becoming Neil Sedaka. All you needed was confidence in the value of your passions & perspective. And, boy, did Billy have it.

While I was raised on the An Innocent Man videos and well aware of his FM staples, the only Joel album I’ve ever owned for more than a minute was Storm Front, picked up on cassette from Target in 4th grade and sold to a friend in 8th for two bucks. I’ve long repped for some of his most notorious songs (defensive boomer BS or not, I’m still grateful he gave me a dense, dramatic list of cultural events to investigate!) and even wrote an elaborate explanation of how Joel could rope-a-dope Bruce Springsteen’s ass in a Verzuz. There may be no popular musician I intellectually admire more that I casually enjoy less. Robert Christgau, another a post-Dylan loudmouth from the outer boroughs, has had plenty of wisdom to share about the man I hate to love.

Despite regularly panning it and panning it and panning it well, Bobby X (represents Queens) gave Billy J (raised on the Island) an A- for Greatest Hits, leading the blurb for that one with “I give up.” So why can’t I? Short answer: 50%. I only keep albums if I can honestly say I’d be happy to hear at least half of the tracks. Counting the tracks up at Amoeba as a truly delightful disco mix played on the speakers (knew most, shazamed Kongas), I just couldn’t bring myself to the necessary ratio. Was that fair, though? When was the last time I heard half these songs? In the name of justice for Billy Joel, something Billy Joel feels very strongly about, I’ve decided to methodically reaffirm whether or not Greatest Hits Vol. I & II belongs on my shelf. Let the rock & roller quota war commence!

Disc 1, Track 1: “Piano Man”

Touched by it as a kid. Hated it as a teen. Hated it even more as a young adult. Tried to sympathize with it as an adult, but still hated it. Then, recently, I learned it sounds so much better if you imagine the Piano Man is a clueless stud who doesn’t realize he’s been entertaining folks at a gay bar (ever notice the only woman referenced is a waitress?) and appreciated for something other than his genius (“The manager gives me a smile/ ‘cuz he knows that it’s me they’ve been coming to see/ to forget about life for a while”). I call this Randy Newman-ing a song, where you put ironic distance between the songwriter and text even if the songwriter hadn’t intended any (i.e. hearing “Waiting For The World To Change” as a scathing parody of youthful optimism). I've never loved "Piano Man" more than I do today. Billy 1, Haters 0.

Disk 1, Track 2: “Captain Jack”

An epic David Bowie tribute from a schlub who'd already accepted he couldn't pull off sequins and dyed mullets. And don’t tell me there’s no way Billy was influenced by the glam going on overseas. When asked by Rolling Stone what he was enjoying in 1993, Billy gave it up for Matthew Sweet and Suede. For further associations you didn't plan to make with "Captain Jack" today, please check out this bit from Sketches From An Italian Restaurant, an amazing show peformed once upon a time at Upright Citizens Brigade New York that I’ll remember long after the makers don’t. Billy 2, Haters 0.

Disc 1, Track 3: “The Entertainer”

That keyboard hook is a deal breaker. The only way I could tolerate those noises is if they're in a Star Wars Holiday Special. Billy 2, Haters 1.

Disc 1, Track 4: “Say Goodbye To Hollywood”

Done and done. And I mean done. This sounds like Springsteen doing proof of concept at a pitch meeting by hollering over a karaoke tape of a Phil Spector production. Bye, Billicia. Billy 2, Haters 2.

Disc 1, Track 5: “New York State Of Mind”

My dad is Brooklyn born & raised. Deep Brooklyn, well past the subway. I’m talking Mill Basin.  I don’t see my aunts & uncles & cousins enough. I miss my grandparents, too. This essay might look like spitting on their cultural shoes, but that side of my genetics is where I got all this sarcasm from in the first place (though not the academic thoroughness in making my case). I first heard "New York State Of Mind" as a kid watching a photo montage an aunt or uncle made, me previously unaware you could set photos to music. It's now my “I can't pretend to love Neil Diamond & Babs, but I’ll always love my fellow Miccios” anthem. Billy 3, Haters 2.

Disc 1, Track 6: “The Stranger”

What the hell is he talking about here? Pretty sure it’s not Seattle alt-weeklies. Those probably just make him mad. Bet he's even ripped one up on stage. Billy 3, Haters 3.

Disc 1, Track 7: “Scenes From An Italian Restaurant”

Is the food good at Miccio family reunions? You know it. Billy 4, Haters 3.

Disc 1, Track 8: “Just The Way You Are”

Ah, romantic codependence. Billy captured the allure of it, both for provider or recipient, so well here. Billy 5, Haters 3.

Disc 1, Track 9: “Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song)”

Literally my song. And you better believe I'm still trying to avoid that heart attack-ack-ack-ack-ack! Hence all these Billy Joel jokes nobody's paying me for. Eternally grateful for the bohemian encouragement, Bill. Billy 6, Haters 3.

Disc 1, Track 10: “Only The Good Die Young”

The first swaggering sign that this guy might get to roll with supermodels. And not in a "Bob Dylan for Victoria's Secret" way, either. I’ll never forget the time I heard it on call-waiting with my health insurance. Seriously, it happened. Real life, not a Simpsons bit. But I don’t hold it against "Young." It's too damn smooth! Billy 7, Haters 3.

Disc 1, Track 11: “She’s Always A Woman”

Ah, romantic codependency. Billy captured the passive-aggressive fucking nightmare of it all so well here. If you don’t get what I mean, watch the sketch about this "love song" 11 minutes into Sketches From An Italian Restaurant. Says it all. Billy 7, Haters 4.

Disc 2, Track 1: “My Life”

Imagine writing this song after finally having a huge hit album. Imagine making it the first single. Imagine it going to #3. Seek therapy, America. Billy 7, Haters 5.

Disc 2, Track 2: “Big Shot”

Seriously, America, therapy's great. It’s really helpful to realize when you’re projecting anxieties onto others, unhealthily fixated on interpersonal grievance and avoiding facing problems with yourself. Billy 7, Haters 6.

Disc 2, Track 3: “You May Be Right”

I know I’m right, Billy! But thank you. And yes, maybe a lunatic is what I’m looking for. At least for an hour of catchy, cathartic hits. As I said, you've captured the highs and lows of romantic codependency quite well. Billy 8, Haters 6.

Disc 2, Track 4: “It’s Still Rock & Roll To Me”

I love telling Kill The Moonlight fans I think this song does it better. But I prefer about eight other Spoon albums to this song. Billy 8, Haters 7.

Disc 2, Track 5: “Don’t Ask Me Why”

Done and done, and I mean done. I’ll ask the eight Harry Nilsson albums I have instead. Billy 8, Haters 8.

Disc 2, Track 6: “She’s Got A Way - Live”

“Written in 1970, I still feel the same way.” - Billy Joel in 1981. Divorced in 1982. It happens.  Believe me, I know. But it’s all I can hear when I hear this. Billy 8, Haters 9.

Disc 2, Track 7: “Pressure”

I like the wacked-out video for this almost as much as the Star Wars Holiday Special. But as a song, it mostly works as a counterpoint to the idea that we missed out on John Lennon albums in the ‘80s. Billy 8, Haters 10.

Disc 2, Track 8: “Allentown”

This winner oddly doubles as a way for me to get righteously pissed off about Reaganism and miss living in Pennsylvania. Billy 9, Haters 10.

Disc 2, Track 9: “Goodnight Saigon”

I first became aware of "Goodnight Saigon" in high school when an older student said it was the Academic Quiz Bowl Or Something Like That team’s theme song. I bet if I’d been emotionally secure enough to join an Academic Quiz Bowl team in high school, I’d already own a Billy best-of. And maybe enjoy this song. Billy 9, Haters 11.

Disc 2, Track 10: “Tell Her About It”

"Wooo!!! I’m getting remarried!!! To a supermodel!!! Wooo!!!! And while I’ve always had a lot of opinions, I’m so happy right now, I'm sharing them in Levi Stubbs cosplay! You’re welcome!!! Wooo!!!" Billy 10, Haters 11.

Disc 2, Track 11: “Uptown Girl”

And the red flags of romantic codependency are replaced by the red flags of class anxiety. With all due respect to the talent & craft I can’t hear through their shrieked, desperately heteronormative machismo, 39 times out of 40, I find the Four Seasons repulsive. Part of why I enjoy this song more than just about every Frankie Valli song I know is because the voices are mixed behind the percussion. And the percussion rules. Billy 11, Haters 11.

Disc 2, Track 12: “The Longest Time”

I used to sing this as a lullaby back when my kid didn’t have so many opinions about lullabies (a development I deeply respect, believe me). The wtfery of “I’m that voice you’re hearing in the hall” aside, this song is a startlingly honest, vulnerable acknowledgement that promises are for making, rather than relying on.  On back-in-the-ring remarriage numbers like this and “A Matter Of Trust,” Joel showed a meditative distance and appreciation for romance worthy of The Go-Betweens. If only he’d held off on the hits compilation until “A Matter Of Trust” could be on it. Billy 12, Haters 11.

Disc 2, Track 13: “You’re Only Human (Second Wind)”

I wish I could say The Boys sold me on this, and I do respect what Hughie got from it. But, when I hear the song, I mostly picture Julian Lennon turning into a werewolf. Billy 12, Haters 12.

Disc 2, Track 14: “The Night Is Still Young”

Ironically (in more than one sense!), I love “Modern Woman.” You can Randy Newman the shit out of that song. It’s a wordy, uptempo delight at karaoke and it makes me reminisce about the joy that is Ruthless People. If this compilation ended with “Modern Woman,” I’d own it! Instead, it ends with him swearing he wants to “keep makin’ love to you” like some drunk, deadly serious David Coverdale fan at karaoke. I’m not owning that. Billy 12, Haters 13.

Sigh.

While I’m glad I'm not compelled to go back to Amoeba and spend more on gas than I would on the 2CD itself, this still bums me out. It was so close! So many classic anthems! Eventually, I’ll investigate if Sony ever came up with a slightly more tolerable compilation tracklisting. Billy does deserve representation in my physical media collection. He does. But right now, I just want to sit at home…