The Piano Man in Concert

While I paid for it this morning, I thoroughly enjoyed watching Billy Joel in concert last night. Going in, I really was unsure of what to expect. My prior experience with Joel has been the lone greatest hits (although it is an all-encompassing, dual disc) album loaded up on my iPod. Fully aware of the fact that the man is a hit factory, I did not know what type of show he would put on. Would he phone it in? Or would he give it his all?

Let's just say, he brought his 'A' game.

It takes more than just hit records to transcend your profession. Billy Joel transcends pop music. He has the deep arsenal of inescapable tunes, but more than that, he entertains at every turn. It seems painfully obvious that the man would love to reach deeper into his catalogue and pull out the occasional diamond in the rough, but he respects the fact that his audience paid to hear "Piano Man," not "The River of Dreams."

To that end, Billy Joel ensures that 90% of his set list includes well-known songs. The Bob Dylan "screw it, I'll play what I want" mentality is not in effect here. And when Joel does decide to pull something obscure out of his repertoire, he delights the audience with his self-deprecating (and surprisingly abundant) wit. "Please don't go to the bathroom during this next song," he implored, acknowledging the unfamiliarity with the tune, "...I'll let you know when I pick a song that you should go pee during." Upon announcing the song and the album it hails from, a smattering of applause creeps through the arena. Joel looks ready to to rip through the song, but recognizes the minor recognition and quips "yeah, that's about how many people bought that record."

And his candor seems genuine. I am not that big of an idiot--I'm sure Joel, like most entertainers of his stature, has an ego. But he also seems down-to-earth enough not to. By admitting that his catalogue is far from perfect, Joel appears, well, human. Missing from this legend: The prima donna persona; the kind of musician who believes that even the slightest grunt from his mouth is cutting edge, provided it is put on record.

From a psychological standpoint, lowering his audiences expectations for the song allows a "hey, this is pretty good" vibe to waft around the arena. I guess after thirty years, the man has learned a trick or two. He concludes the song and thanks the audience for their patience. Back to the classics.

The remainder of the evening is a veritable hit parade. Even the lowlight of the show was still entertaining (a roadie joined the band on stage to sing "Highway to Hell," sounding frighteningly similar to AC/DC--does that say more about the roadie or AC/DC?). When it was all over, everyone in the stands knew what the encore had in store. Noticeably absent from the show so far: Joel's signature song, "Piano Man." Despite the predictability, nothing else in the show compared to seeing the entertainer pick up his strap-on harmonica.

And then it was all over. And a five hour trip, with another hour and a half drive staring me in the face just hours later, stood between Columbus, Ohio and home. While these extended drives are never enjoyable, this particular excursion was saved (and proved to be a testament to Joel's legacy) by the inescapable melodies floating around the minds of all the passengers. Things may have reverted back to the daily grind today, but, while the fatigue will pass in time, the memory of this evening will stick around for years to come.