The 500 - #158 - Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy - Elton John

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

---

Album: #158
Album Title: Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy

Artist: Elton John

Genre: Rock, Pop, Country

Recorded: Caribou Ranch Studios, Nederland, Colorado

Released: May, 1975

My age at release: 9
How familiar was I with it before this week: Very

Is it on the 2020 list? No
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: We All Fall In Love Sometimes/Curtains

A crisp Autumn afternoon in 1975 found a yellow school bus rumbling down a dusty gravel road near the village of Kingsville, Ontario. Kicking up dust clouds it trundled on its daily sojourn from Jack Miner Public School to the patchwork rural neighbourhoods nestled between corn fields, apple orchards and small copses of mixed trees dotted along the northern shores of Lake Erie. Inside, 40 students, aged 5 - 14, bursted with excitement and cacophonous conversation as they were jostled along familiar concession roads.

Perched on the edge of a cracked vinyl seat near the front sat a ten-year-old kid. Quiet and attentive, like a young sparrow on a wire listening to older birds, he soaked in the banter, slang, jokes and gossip being bandied back and forth by teens clumped at the back.. Unannounced, two pretty Grade 8 girls, effortlessly broke into song. Their voices, natural and pleasantly harmonious, rose above the chatter and the bus engine's hum.

"...And someone saved my life tonight
Sugar bear (sugar bear sugar bear...)
You almost had your hooks in me
Didn't you dear?
You nearly had me roped and tied
Altar bound, hypnotized, sweet freedom whispered in my ear
You're a butterfly
And butterflies are free to fly
Fly away
High away
Bye bye"

It was a tune I recognized from the radio -- Someone Saved My Life Tonight from Elton John's latest record, Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy. The song had been inescapable that summer, but hearing those girls spontaneously belt it out transformed the music into something greater. In the dusty sunlight of that moment, it felt like a secret code permitted me to slip into the world of teen-age cool. As I sat there transfixed, I understood that a song was more than lyrics, melody and rhythm. It was a way to belong.

Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy was the ninth studio record released by renowned English musician, singer and songwriter Sir Elton John in 1975. The lyrics provided  an autobiographical account of the early musical career of John (Captain Fantastic) and Bernie Taupin (The Brown Dirt Cowboy) who had been his song-writer since the pair met in 1967. As the story goes, Taupin and John independently responded to a magazine advertisement posted by Liberty Records which was looking to recruit new musical talent in London, England.  

Neither passed the audition, however. As John departed, he mentioned to the desk clerk that writing lyrics was a challenge. He was handed a sealed envelope containing poetry from Taupin, which he read during his ride home on the London Underground. He was dumbfounded and completely rapt by the beauty of the words. More importantly, he could hear them sung in the numerous melodies he'd already composed in his head. The pair soon met and began a partnership that created more than 300 songs, including 40 Top Ten singles.

Elton John (left) and Bernie Taupin in the early 70s.

As an amateur writer, and a dabbler in verse and whimsy, I have been a fan of Bernie Taupin for fifty years. He and Elton became one of the greatest writing teams of all time -- on par with McCartney & Lennon (The Beatles), Jagger & Richards (The Rolling Stones), Benny Andersson & Bjorn Uleveus (ABBA) or the some of the legendary Brill Building Songwriters including Gerry Goffin & Carol King and Jerry Lieber & Mike Stoller. In 1985, ten years after that memorable September bus ride, I went through a heavy Elton & Bernie phase, collecting almost every record in their catalogue for my vinyl collection.

Nine records from Elton in the 1970s, four are on The 500.

Although I liked them all, my favourite was Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy and it was one of the first albums I purchased on compact disc -- a revolutionary technology at the time. It is also one of my favourite records ever. Elton and Bernie were at the height of their musical powers as songwriters on this disc, and the final album featuring the full, classic line-up of Elton's band -- Davey Johnstone (guitar), Dee Murray (bass), Nigel Olsson (drum) and Ray Cooper (percussion). Their tight musicianship and brilliant backing vocals were outstanding. 

I became obsessed with Taupin’s beautifully crafted lyrics—exploring ambition, failure, pressure, friendship, love, and identity. Though deeply personal and introspective, his poetry struck a chord in me; I recognized myself in every line. At least I did as a single, nineteen-year-old clumsily seeking meaning in a gap year between high school and university.

Elton with his band (1975).

Perhaps I still do. Even as I penned this post on a caffeine-fueled Sunday morning, I found myself reflecting on Taupin's words in the eighth track, Writing -- a homage to the collaborative song-crafting process he and Elton navigated for six years. and would for 30 more.

And we were...

Not the kind to dawdle

Will the things we wrote today
Sound as good tomorrow?
We will still be writing
In approaching years
Stifling yawns on Sundays
As the weekends disappear

And as this weekend disappears, I'll leave this post behind, too, hoping it will "sound as good in approaching years". I will be back to talk more Elton and Bernie in about 22 weeks when their 1974 Greatest Hits release appears at #136.

The Tragically Hip... in my hometown

Tonight, The Tragically Hip perform in my hometown of London, Ontario for the last time. I don’t have tickets. They proved too hard to secure through Ticketmaster and then, when made available through secondary providers like Stub-Hub, were far too expensive. That’s okay. I’ve seen them several times and the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) will be broadcasting their final show live on August 20. Fittingly, it will be performed in the band’s hometown of Kingston, Ontario. Lead singer and lyricist Gord Downie was diagnosed with glioblastoma  - a terminal form of brain cancer  earlier this year. Consequently, this 2 month tour of Canada will be the band’s swan song.

I have always been a fan of “The Hip”. They were pure Canadiana and the riff-heavy “New Orleans is Sinking” was a staple on numerous mixed-tapes I made in the 80’s. However, over the past few weeks, I have been reminded how significant they were in the soundtrack of my 20's & 30's. I like a lot of music and my tastes are eclectic. Since escaping the tunnel-vision mindset of my youth, I have lived by the mantra that all music has value. (Well, all music that is made earnestly and passionately is of value.) Consequently, I listen to everything with an open mind and I don’t participate in Kanye, Nickleback or Bieber bashing. I simply gravitate toward the things I like most and The Hip has always had a place within that inner circle.

My first encounter with The Hip was entirely forgettable. It was the late 80’s and they were playing at a London bar called Call the Office. I was there, visiting with a friend who was about to board a train to Toronto. I paid no attention to them at all (a great regret). It was only their memorable name and later success that informs me that the event even took place. I vaguely remember wandering past the stage to use the bathroom. I am pretty sure they were playing a cover song - but, I cannot remember which one. I even left early - probably before the first set was completed.

It would be 1996 before I saw them again. I got tickets to the show at Cobo Hall in Detroit, Michigan. This would be the performance that was recorded for their live album “Live Between Us”. It was a fantastic show that was overshadowed by the theft of my wallet. I had placed my jacket under my seat, not realizing that there was access to it from the walkway behind me. It was frustrating but, not costly. I was out about $100. This was pre-9/11, so I breezed back into Canada without any identification. Simpler times. Now, when I listen to that live album I find myself preoccupied with the thought - “Was it during this song that the jerk took my wallet?”

In the last 20 years, I have only managed to see them a couple times more. I guess, like many, I assumed that I could always catch them on the next summer tour. Like warm weather, flip-flops, girls in sundresses and Dave Matthews - they are a mainstay of July and August in Canada.

I've always been a lyrics guy and Gord's poetry was, and is, a treasure for me to discover - again and again. It will always remain a gift that continues to give. I am still unwrapping rich, new substance in his words. From the haunting simplicity of Wheat Kings to the layered complexity of Nautical Disaster and even the clever humour of Poets, Gord created a tapestry of words that were both accessible and capacious. I loved that there was so much Canadiana in his writing. Gord found touchstones of my beautiful country in both familiar and obscure references that, for inexplicable reasons, resonate profoundly with me. Bobcaygeon, Bill Barilko, David Milgaard, Millhaven Maximum Security - Gord transported me to a place or time in Canada where I had never been and yet, felt like I knew.

I’ve been revisiting a lot of the band’s catalogue in the past few months. Gord’s lyrics take on a special power and significance when viewed through this current, tragic lens. I keep coming back to the song Ahead by a Century from the 1996 album Welcome to the Hen House. Twenty years ago, when I (foolishly in retrospect) felt like an old man, this song resonated in a powerful way. Today, the lyrics take on new significance in light of the situation in which I find myself - watching a gifted performer and writer say goodbye.

"First thing we'd climb a tree and maybe then we'd talk,Or sit silently and listen to our thoughts.With illusions of someday casting a golden light,No dress rehearsal, this is our life."

Thank you Gord.

May the road ahead be kind to you.