September 20, 2019
At a Sold-Out Fenway Park, Billy Joel Raids his Bucket List
Christopher Ehlers READ TIME: 3 MIN.
"If I thought I'd be doing this job at 70 years old, and you're still coming to see me," joked Billy Joel on the stage at Fenway Park this past weekend, in his distinct, trademark Long Island accent. "It's your fault. I can't retire until you stop buying these fucking tickets."
It isn't only that Billy Joel is still selling lots of tickets–a feat in and of itself five decades into a career–but he's still selling all, the tickets. At Fenway Park, where Joel has dutifully returned each summer for the last six years, he sold every last ticket six years in a row.
Joel has been–thankfully–a fixture on the road ever since the launch of "Billy Joel in Concert," which he began in 2014. With dates still scheduled into November of this year, this particular tour will have grossed over $371 million over 158 shows.
Joel hasn't put out any new material since 2001's "Fantasies & Delusions," an album of original classical compositions; his last new rock album was 26 years ago, 1993's "River of Dreams."
"I don't have anything new," warned Joel at the top of the show. "It's the same old shit."
Thank God for that same old shit.
A bucket list concert if there ever was one, Joel's setlist was generous with the hits. From an electrifying "Movin' Out" and a "New York State of Mind" that still managed to stop the show at this rival stadium; through other staples, like "Only the Good Die Young," "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant," "It's Still Rock and Roll to Me," and–of course–"Piano Man."
Billy Joel is the piano man–there's no denying that–but what initially struck me about hearing Joel live for the first time is how well his voice has held up. Joel has never really been lauded for his voice–distinct as it may be–to the same degree that he has for his songwriting and piano playing. But his voice is underrated, dynamic, and still–48 years after "Piano Man" was released–sounds the same. That's impressive.
It wasn't all hits though. "I've had more bombs than hits, you know," he said, with a modestly that only seemed slightly false. "We like to take them out once in a while. See how bad they were." The song that prompted that warning was "Sleeping With the Television On," a relatively ridiculous track from 1980's "Glass Houses." But even the other non-hits, like "Vienna" and "The Ballad of Billy the Kid," are still so familiar and cloaked in so much nostalgia that it's hard to imagine them as radio flops. There were some covers, too: "I Feel Fine" and "A Hard Day's Night" by The Beatles, and a just-for-us cover of Boston's "More Than a Feeling," which he cut short. ("We couldn't figure it out," he joked).
Part of the appeal of Billy Joel has always been that comes across as just a regular guy writing about regular things. He's always seemed like one of us. And that's very much how one of his concerts feels, too: the vibe is familiar; comfortable, even. Seeing Billy Joel in concert–even at a massive baseball stadium–feels more like hanging out with an old friend than it does going to worship at the altar of a superstar.
He only got it slightly wrong in "The Entertainer," a modest hit from 1974's "Streetlight Serenade" that takes a somewhat cynical view of being a famous musician. He isn't just the idol of his age. He's the idol of all of our ages.
For more on Billy Joel, including the dates for his upcoming concerts, visit his website.