boogie rock, breezy pop, ersatz Philly soul, Queen-like prog and rhinestone country flashes with masterful tunes, restless arrangements and Taupin's typically oblique but image-rich lyrics.
The major selling point of this double-disc edition is a gutsy seventy-one-minute live set recorded at Wembley Stadium just a month after Captain Fantastic's release. Although he'd score several dozen additional hits, John's craft and commercial savvy would never again attain this poptastic synergy.
Somebody Saved My Life Tonight" alone makes Captain Fantastic an album you want to hear. The whole set shows off Elton and Bernie at the top of their powers, writing tight little gems then tossing in that perfect Mick Ronson guitar sound here and there to roughen up the edges of otherwise slick pop/rock.
First things first. This is one of Elton John's best albums. He hasn't tried to top past successes, only to continue the good work he's been doing. And he's succeeded, even taking a few chances in the process. The record is devoid of the gimmicky rock numbers from the Don't Shoot Me, I'm Only the Piano Player phase. It isn't weighted down with the overarranging and overproduction that marred so much of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. It sounds freer and more relaxed than Caribou. His voice sounds rough, hoarse, almost weary. But that only helps make him sound more personal and intimate than in the past.
It is by now beyond question that Elton John is a competent and classy entertainer. Few people who have achieved his popularity have succeeded in maintaining his standards for performance and professionalism. And in his relationship to his audience, Elton not only gives of himself in terms of output and energy but he does it graciously and generously. Unlike his American counterparts (many of them neither as talented nor as popular), he hasn't soured on success.
But the question remains—is Elton John something more than a great entertainer? I'm not sure. For one thing, despite his ability to sound profound, he seldom projects a tangible personality. After so many albums and tours, few people have any sense of him at all. And for all his productivity and enthusiasm, he remains a largely passive figure, the creator of music that one can get comfortable with but which is never challenging or threatening.
Elton John can be a master of the sleight of hand. The arrangements make it seem like there are substantial melodies underneath the tracks—but almost nothing demands repeated listenings. Similarly, he always sounds like he's singing up a storm, but his voice glosses over the material, reducing most things to an uninteresting sameness.
More importantly, his music is often devoid of noteworthy emotional content. That problem can't be talked about without bringing up the controversial lyrics of his collaborator, Bernie Taupin.
Elton John himself never seems pretentious but Bernie Taupin's lyrics often do — sometimes pretentious in a clever sort of way, but pretentious nonetheless. There is a conflict between Elton's and Bernie's personal styles, no doubt about it. Perhaps that conflict is at the root of what is good as well as what is bad about Elton's work, but it must be dealt with just the same. When Elton simply wants to fool around and put out something that's pure tapioca, Bernie still winds up handing him something labored, for example, "Crocodile Rock."
Naturally Taupin's weaknesses come to the fore on this concept album about the song-writing team's scuffling days. But it's a strong commentary on his glibness that on a record that is supposed to evoke two people's personal experiences, there is no sense of particularity. Taupin's lyrics generate more of the alb
