Elton John couldn’t have scripted a better plot for the one-man soap opera his life has become: tearing up the ’70s with 25 top-40 hits, crashing and burning in the ’80s, then rehabbing himself into sobriety, knighthood, soft-drink commercials and children’s movies in the ’90s.
Taking the stage at the New World Music Theatre on Friday, John was a mere ghost of the raving peacock who strutted to stardom 25 years ago. With the tint of his professorial glasses matching his shirt, plaid suit and even the towels he used to dab his forehead, John played eccentric uncle, vaudevillian piano man and applause junkie.
As on most of his tours in the ’90s, the showboating was kept to a minimum and the focus was on the music. The pianist had a fine band, as usual, anchored by longtime guitarist Davey Johnstone and an agile, aggressively melodic bassist in Bob Birch.
John’s voice isn’t what it used to be, of course, it’s a deeper, less flexible instrument that didn’t even attempt to duplicate the high notes of “Rocket Man” or the grand operatic flourishes of “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me.” But his piano chops were up to par, and his right-hand drummed the keys on rockers such as the “The Bitch is Back.”
In a career-spanning, two-hour-plus set, John included a solo version of his first hit and one of his most recent, and demonstrated that the artistic distance traveled between “Your Song” (1970) and “Circle of Life” (1994) is a lot less than one might think. With “Your Song,” John declared, “I hope you don’t mind/That I put down in words/How wonderful life is/While you’re in the world.” For “Circle,” the video screens flashed images of cuddly jungle animals from “The Lion King” while John sang his theme song for the children’s movie: “You should never take more than you give.”
They’re both drippy tunes, but John sank into their marshmallow emotion with such sincerity he made them difficult to deny.
The Brit brought that same enthusiasm to his ’70s hits, which played out like a long homage to the American culture he has loved since boyhood: the Philly soul of “Philadelphia Freedom,” the barrelhouse boogie of “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting,” the country twang of “Tiny Dancer” and “Roy Rogers.” He brought just enough new touches to the oldies to suggest that he’s still committed to them as pieces of music rather than as mere nostalgia treks. There was the extended piano break that nodded to Professor Longhair in “Honky Cat,” the gospel coda that lifted “Levon,” the dueling mandolins that gave “Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters” a bluegrass bent. His newer material didn’t compare; the 12-step primer “Recover Your Soul” and the ballad “Something About the Way You Look Tonight” merely sounded bland.
There were no revelations, no outrageous antics, no nervous breakdowns. On this night, the piano man was a human jukebox who cranked out the hits and signed autographs with equal enthusiasm, a pro basking in a job well done. Sir Elton, after all, has discovered the secret to aging gracefully in rock ‘n’ roll, and it is this: If you never have any “edge” to begin with, you can never lose it.
