It was like contraband, my brothers brought to the back room of the trailer. Unwrapping and unfolding its glorious three gatefold LP cover to unveil all those cool underground comix like drawings, marveling at the queer dazzle and street hassle of the lyrics. Sure, my brother and I laid side by side and listened to his classic rootsy LPs up till then, which if they hadn’t been humongous commercial smashes would be fit for a Light in The Attic reissue campaign of weird queer Bibliophilic folk-prog Americana. But this was his least gospel, his most depraved. Mysterious, spiteful, keen on working class angst and in “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting” a virtual snapshot of our lives inside the trailer. This is when I discovered “art” (and not just the spillos on the lyric folds); I mean it, seriously, this was my first encounter with the mirror of the world on my family and feelings. I cringe on some of the self-hatred, misogyny, and especially racism still part of the art, but its expanse and depth has rarely been replicated by more conceptual or “punk” posturing. If anyone can tell me what the sigil-driven “Grey Seal” means I’ll lick out your navel by candlelight. This Wm Burroughs-level literary-cum-musical alchemy is the “White Stains” of pop rock double albums, far more occult and esoteric than anything Led Zeppelin ever did. Why do you think the Beasties covered “Benny and the Jets”?
Elton John – ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’ by Chris Estey
