Oddly, it's not that Elton John was sitting in his red Bentley convertible, top down, in the snow wearing a red sports jacket, straw boat hat and blue sunglasses I remember about his 1985 music video for Nikita. Nor was it that from his car he was sneaking photos at long range of the woman of his fantasies (Oh, Nikita you will never know!). Nor was it the fez hat he later wore in a dimly lit den while watching his voyeuristic snaps on a slideshow. No. Somehow, at the tender age of five, all this wackiness sandwiched into one clip escaped me. It is Nikita with her eyes like "ice on fire" and her fur hat with a bleak Cold War backdrop I remember.
Despite the theatrics, the point of the tune still got through. And that song, so simple, so well structured, is typical of Elton's (and co-writer Bernie Taupin's) trademark style, which is probably the reason he is one of the world's greatest songwriters. He has sold more than 250 million albums in a career spanning nearly five decades.
When Elton marched onto the stage at Impact Arena last Thursday there were similar theatrics. He wore rose-tinted glasses, a diamond earring and a dinner jacket _ its back and sleeves so gold and sparkly that, like the sun, it was best not to look directly at it. Punching and stabbing holes in the air with his pointed forefingers, he was angling for a rousing reception, but he didn't get one. The audience clapped dutifully, but seemingly did not want to show an abundance of enthusiasm too early on. Clearly not one to dwell on things, it was on with the show and straight into The Bitch Is Back, during which, in between verses, Elton got up from his seat and again punched his way around the stage before perching himself on top of his piano. Benny And The Jets and Tiny Dancer followed before he took a moment to say hello.
"I'm glad to be back in your beautiful country," he told his fans, adding that it would be his band's last show of the year, before introducing his favourite "lyrics". "This song says everything I believe in," he announced before the sweeping orchestral opening to Believe. "Churches and dictators, politics and papers/Everything crumbles sooner or later/But love, I believe in love". Though musically it's not one of his most popular tunes, lyrically it's hard to argue with.
Philadelphia Freedom, that "Diana song" Candle In The Wind, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, and percussion and piano instrumentals in Rocket Man (this concert was part of this song's 40th anniversary tour) were skipped through without a hitch, but somewhere around I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues, the jerky Honky Cat, Sad Songs (Say So Much), and personal childhood favourite, Daniel, there came a slump. So far the audience hadn't been very animated. During a quick glance around I noticed three people taking a nap. Apart from two girls bouncing around in their seats, the rest were sitting still, staring straight ahead as if they were at the cinema. Sure, most of the latter songs were slower and quieter, and maybe they could've been mixed up a little, but in situations where many people are gathered together, energy feeds off energy, and here there was none going spare.
Perhaps the audience was in a trance, overcome by the big full sound that danced out of that amazing grand piano commanded by Elton's tiny hands?
Although he avoided the higher notes, his voice was clear and flawless, producing a sound bigger than he. But of course, the sound wasn't all his. After a revisit to that saucy minx Nikita _ a solo at the spotlighted piano _ he introduced his band, made up of possibly the oldest and best-dressed bunch of musicians I have ever seen. Among the back-up singers were founding members of Sly & The Family Stone, and drummer Nigel Olsson has been with Elton since the very beginning _ about 1967.
Playing the same songs for decades must be tiresome, but he and the band played each with conviction. Not once did things get lazy.
After that it was clear the evening was drawing to a close, which was when the crowd suddenly came to life. Some got to their feet and fans at the back abandoned their seats, shimmying their way to the front where they remained for Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me (for which Elton finally got his standing ovation), I'm Still Standing, Crocodile Rock (to which the whole arena joined in for the "lalalalala") and Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting), getting a little action in.
Taking a bow, the maestro exited the stage, but was careful not to stay away too long before returning for the encore favourite Your Song was followed, disappointingly for some, by the finale Circle Of Life from The Lion King.
Elton's been around so long that it's been easy to forget about him as different stages of life sneak by, and tastes change as music genres merge and evolve. But his popularity and longevity is testament to his artistic integrity that is today often lost among the advent of Auto-Tune, short-lived trends and one-hit wonders.
There's nothing wrong with keeping it simple and honest, and letting the music do the talking.
