Storytelling

Through a lifetime of songs from Billy Joel

We’ve been playing Billy Joel on repeat at my house the past several days. Why, you ask? Besides the obvious reason that he’s magnificent? Well, you see four days ago I received a notification. Our tickets to his upcoming show have been cancelled. My disappointment quickly turned to concern because the original date of the show had already been postponed due to vague health reasons. I knew a full cancellation likely meant something more serious. Unfortunately that is indeed the case.

His recent diagnosis of NPH brain disorder and his doctors’ recommendation to stop performing is, of course, life altering for him. I wish him the best care, comfort and coping. Anyone who uses their creative gifts knows what a lifeline they can be. Hopefully, he can find a level of performing that brings him joy and doesn’t deplete him.

As a lifelong fan, the news hit me harder than I expected. This man and his music have provided the soundtrack to my life. I have never met him. I can’t tell you about his personality or sense of humor or pet peeves, yet his impact on my life is real.

I suppose this is the effect an artist has when they share their gifts with the world. Parts of them become a part of other people’s worlds.

When I was nine-years-old, I saved up my money and bought my very first album. It was Glass Houses. Imagine a fair haired, midwestern kid bebopping in her bedroom to “It’s still Rock and Roll”, “Sometimes a Fantasy”, “All for Leyna”, and “You May Be Right”. Hairbrush as microphone. Mirror as view into the audience. I played that album over and over - both sides. I was hooked.

In high school I participated in a domestic exchange program. About 40 kids from my high school partnered up with about 40 kids from a high school on Long Island. Sharing the cultural differences from our small town in Wisconsin and their large suburb with close proximity to New York City was incredible. The friends we made in New York were die hard Billy Joel fans. Billy Joel is their hometown guy. They introduced us to all sorts of deep cuts like “You Look So Good to Me” and “You’re My Home”. And after going to Little Italy for a meal, “Scenes From An Italian Restaurant” took on a whole new layer of understanding. I could picture it, smell it, taste it.

In college, I returned to New York a few times to visit the friends I had made on the high school trip. Without having to follow the schedule of a school sanctioned trip, they were free to take us to sights of our own choosing. Naturally, they took us to Hicksville, where Billy Joel grew up. We drove down the parkway, windows down, Billy’s songs turned up. As the scenery that provided the backdrop to his younger years and songs flashed by, the lyrics were made even more vivid.

Also during my college years, I saw my first Billy Joel concert. We were in the cheap seats at Alpine Valley, which meant we brought a blanket and sat in the grass. We were so far from the stage, but it was still one of the best concerts I’ve ever seen. We sang. We danced. We teared up when he brought veterans on stage to sing backup during “Goodnight Saigon”.

In my adult life, I’ve seen a few more of Billy’s shows. I’ve made sure my kids know more than the average amount of Billy Joel songs, both hits and more obscure gems. And I’ve continued to be amazed by his simple, yet deep gift of storytelling.

His musicianship is incredible, but - for me - it’s the storytelling that has kept me hooked all of these years.

Many of his songs tell his story, his experiences, his New York. But once he became established, he began to tell the stories of others. He used his platform and stage to lift up the steel workers, and soldiers, and fisherman. He grew up in a blue collar town and, as he rose to fame, he stayed rooted in his blue collar upbringing. He didn’t pretend to be something he’s not. He didn’t hide his connections to a common life or the common man. Instead he invited us in, showed us his world and the world of others whose bravery and spirit he admired. And by doing this, he created connections and understanding. And, of course, a whole lot of great music.

As a writer, I admire this. This is what is needed from art and music and story. This is what being authentic and real looks like. It’s what made Billy Joel relatable and what has given him staying power.

His body of work is a masterclass in storytelling.

So, Mr. Joel, Thank you.

Thank you for providing so many damn good songs for every single decade of my life.Thank you for your musicianship, for your storytelling, and your authenticity. Your work has made a difference in my life. You have made a difference in my life.

Your first album was released the year I was born. You have sung to me my entire life.

Just maybe I’ll be able to see you play at The Garden one day.

P.S. - I’m sorry for me and my Gen-X brethren - for drinking in pubs during our college years, linking arms and swaying, and overplaying Piano Man. We were only having fun, but we accidentally beat your song to death. We didn’t mean to. I guess we just couldn’t stop ourselves when we were able to get our hands on something so dang good.

Invitation: What artist has had an impact on your life and/or creative passions? Share in the comments! :)