DISCS
1 AND 2 : DEEP CUTS
Elton’s
deep cuts: the “other” Elton John.
There
are two sides to the Elton John catalogue.
There are his popular hits known and loved the world over. And there are the hundreds of unknown album
tracks or “deep cuts” that were never released for wide radio airplay, and thus
are appreciated only by his most diehard fans.
His
hits have defined him for most but have overshadowed some of the best music he’s
ever written.
The
“Deep Cuts” discs of “Jewel Box” – unlike the early demos -- are fully
realized, performed, and produced album tracks meant to be heard in all their
glory. These songs – the sacred ones – are
not known by the masses but the tracks I listen to most. They
are the songs that vibrantly shape Elton’s catalogue. An album’s deep cuts are the ones I want the
world to hear and sing along with.
Musically,
“Elton: Jewel Box” begins and ends with a “Deep Cuts” disc. The first two encompasses 31 worthy songs
chosen by Elton. They are an inspired
selection touching his entire career, from 1971’s “Tumbleweed Connection”
(“Where To Now, St. Peter?”) to 2013’s “The Diving Board” (“My Quicksand” and “The
New Fever Waltz”). The final disc is an
eclectic mix of Elton choices that keenly connect his many moods and life
experiences.
It’s
difficult to argue with any of the deep cuts chosen here. They all belong and are excellent examples of
Elton’s many musical hues through the years.
Also, how do you question these when Elton picked them? I mean, Elton is the ultimate judge.
Or
is he?
Certainly,
when discussing many of Elton’s best songs and “obscure” deep cuts from his 33
studio albums, no list is complete without most offered on “Jewel Box,”
including “Where To Now, St, Peter?” “Mellow,” “The Ballad Of Danny Bailey
(1909-34),” “Chameleon,” “We All Fall In Love Sometimes,” “The North,” “Ticking,”
“Tell Me When The Whistle Blows,” “House,” “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” “(Gotta
Get A) Meal Ticket,” “Shoot Down The Moon,” “Have Mercy On The Criminal,”
“Blues For Baby And Me,” “My Father’s Gun,” “Elton’s Song,” “Amazes Me,” The
Last Song,” and “American Triangle.”
Interestingly,
evidence that tastes and preferences change with time, several years ago, a
hand-written list by Elton of songs for a rumored “Deep Cuts Tour,” surfaced
online, and of the 20 songs he chose then, less than half on that list appear
on the three “Deep Cuts” discs on the “Jewel Box.”
And
based on his track-by-track comments, many of his somewhat surprising deep cut
selections like “Boogie Pilgrim,” “Crystal,” “Understanding Women,” “My
Quicksand,” “Stone’s Throw From Hurtin’” “Too Low For Zero,” “Hoop Of Fire,”
“The Power,” and “All That I’m Allowed” were selected more for their musical influences,
personal anecdotes, or because they were musical departures from the expected
“Elton John sound.”
However,
when analyzing some of Elton’s greatest and “unknown” songs, the best the songs
are those that do sound like Elton; that do feature his dramatic
chord structures, his passionate, playful, and pleading vocals; that do
feature many of Taupin’s metaphorical images and pointed thoughts; that do
glide on a Paul Buckmaster orchestral arrangement; or do get a shredding
from a Davey Johnstone rocking guitar riff.
They
are songs representative of the hypnotic grandeur conjured by producer Gus Dudgeon. They are the songs that can only be Elton.
So,
yes, while even these unexpected deep cut choices have their place here, it’s
hard to choose them over arguably, some of the best songs Elton has ever
written – period. Songs including “High
Flying Bird,” “Harmony,” “Come Down In Time,” “Seasons (Reprise),” “Mona Lisa
And Mad Hatters,” “” ”Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding,” “I’ve Seen That
Movie Too,” “Roy Rogers,” “Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy,” “Better
Off Dead,” “I Feel Like A Bullet (In The Gun Of Robert Ford),” “Planes,” “Tonight,”
“Crazy Water,” “Idol,” “Cage The Songbird,” “Carla/Etude/Fanfare/Chloe,”
“Burning Buildings,” “Blue Avenue,” “A Woman’s Needs,” “Live Like Horses (The Buckmaster
Demo Version),” “Latitude,” “The Ballad Of The Boy In The Red Shoes,” “Original
Sin,” “Old ’67, “Mandalay Again (with Leon Russell),” “Not Me (“Aida” Demo Version),”
“Circle Of Life,” and “You Gotta Love Someone.”
You
may have your own favorites and choices.
As
Elton insightfully mentioned in his autobiography “Me,” he didn’t start his
career as a pop singer or “singles artist.”
And he’s correct. His first
several official releases were compared more to the rustic sound of The Band
and the soulful blues-rock of Leon Russell than the puppy love pop of Donny
Osmond.
Elton
and Bernie’s early albums from 1969-1971 -- “Empty Sky,” “Elton John,”
“Tumbleweed Connection,” and “Madman Across The Water” -- were dominated by
complexly written, structured, orchestrated, and produced melodies, augmented
by creative, literate, and cinematic storytelling lyrics that challenged and
transported the listener.
Additionally,
many of the early John-Taupin compositions clocked in at five or six minutes in
length. This prevented many of their
best early songs from receiving airplay on the hit-making AM radio stations in
the ‘70s. The commercial behemoths
dominated the dial and refused to play songs longer than 4 minutes to both
serve their young, short attention spanned listeners and pack in as many
commercials as they could within an hour.
Therefore,
many of Elton and Bernie’s best early songs never were released as singles and most
people have never heard them. Granted,
some of Elton’s early, non-singles music from “Elton John,” “Tumbleweed” and
“Madman” did get airplay on the emerging progressive FM stations in America.
These stations featured freeform formats and strove to play more “serious”
non-traditional, non-pop music of the day.
However, these smaller, “underground” radio stations didn’t command the influence
of their AM Top 40 powerhouse counterparts.
In
fact, after 1970’s “Your Song” became a hit, though he released several singles
afterward, it wasn’t until 1972 with “Rocket Man” that Elton returned to the
upper levels of the U.S. and U.K. singles charts.
One
reason a collection like “Jewel Box” is not only welcome but mandatory in
enhancing Elton’s full body of work is because during his dizzying ‘70s decade,
most of his albums between 1972-76 were exceptional efforts from top to
bottom. Unlike most albums of the day, there
was little filler between the hits.
While
most artists of the day struggled to put just one or two hit singles on a 10-song
album, Elton and Bernie were writing and recording a plethora of potential hits. I contend Elton’s albums recorded during this
heyday included four or even five possible hit singles.
Unfortunately,
many compelling songs were relegated to B-side status or never got a chance to
be heard by the masses on the radio because of Elton’s outdated and restrictive
recording contract. He was obligated to
deliver two albums a year, which at the time may have been standard practice for
a standard artist. But from the start it
was obvious Elton John was no standard artist.
With
a little foresight and savvy, the powers at be should have recognized the
wealth of great music on each album, and rather than pressing for something new
every six months, they could have relaxed his recording schedule and extended
the chart life of each current album.
For
example, in 1973, with a double album of stellar material, “Goodbye Yellow
Brick Road” could have been on the charts for a year or even two, and most
likely yielded at least five or six hit singles. Instead, in the U.S,, only the title track, “Saturday
Night’s Alright (For Fighting),” and “Bennie And The Jets” were released as
singles, leaving potential chart-toppers like “Candle In The Wind” (in the
U.S.), “Harmony,” “Grey Seal,” “Your Sister Can’t Twist (But She Can Rock ‘n’ Roll,”
and others stranded on the shelf.
I
argue if “Come Down In Time” and “Harmony” became singles in the ‘70s, for
example, today they both would be among Elton’s best-known and best-loved
greatest hits and would have to be played at every concert. Instead they are known by only the most
ardent fans.
That’s
why “Jewel Box” is essential: it exposes more people to the great expanse of
Elton’s complete catalogue. And it does
meet its mission. Almost. If we couldn’t expand “Jewel Box” to 10 discs
to include more deserving deep cuts, why not another stand-alone collection
promoting these older songs as “new songs”?
After
all, we have seen how “Tiny Dancer,” which was originally released in 1971 as a
single and failed, was instantly elevated to “greatest hit” and “beloved” status.
Thanks to a short but thrilling scene featuring it in Cameron Crowe’s 2000
“Almost Famous” rock ‘n’ roll diary film, it was viewed as a “new” song despite
being 30 years old.
And
remember the sadly abandoned, “Thom Bell Sessions” from 1977? In 1979, it yielded a Top 10 hit, “Mama Can’t
Buy You Love,” and miraculously, in 2003, thanks to an accidental Ashley Beedle
re-mix, “Are You Ready For Love?” gave Elton his most unsuspecting U.K. #1 song
of his career.
The
point being, Elton has LOTS of older music many people haven’t heard, and when
they do, it feels “new” to them and it gains the popularity it always should
have. So why not give these older songs
a second chance to fulfill their intended vocation?
I believe a collection of deep cuts promoted and
marketed as a “new” album would bring throngs of new listeners to Elton’s older
songs and play a major role in widening his legacy. How cool would it be to have an album with
the following songs, and to hear Elton play many of them live?
Indulge my fantasy for a moment,
and imagine diving into “Elton: The Lost Gems” with a track list that, in
addition to the missing deep cuts I mentioned earlier, would also include: “Strange Rain,” “Into The
Old Man’s Shoes,” “Can I Put You On?” “Rock Me When He’s Gone,” “Sick City,” “Cold Highway,” “Pinky,” “Hercules,” “Crazy Water,” “Red,” “Planes,” “Sugar In The Floor,” “Queen Of Cities,” “The Best Part Of The Day,” “White Powder, White Lady,” “Give Me The Love,” “Healing Hands,” “Elderberry
Wine,” “Between Seventeen And Twenty,” “Skyline Pigeon (1973 piano
version),” “Love Letters” (with Bonnie
Raitt), “Loving You Is Sweeter Than
Ever” (with Kiki Dee), “One Day At A Time” (Lennon
cover), “It’s Me That You Need, “Love
Song” (Live with Lesley Duncan), “Sweet Painted Lady,” “Dixie Lily,”
“Electricity,” “Teacher I Need You,”
“Grey Seal,” “One More Arrow,” “Gypsy Heart,” “Too Young,” “Mansfield,” “The
Captain And The Kid,” “Voyeur,” and “The Open Chord.”
I’d
buy it. And I’d never stop playing it.
Yes,
I realize this totals more than 60 additional deep cuts. It only accentuates my initial premise. Elton’s got a an incredibly vast body of work
of superior quality and people today and in the future need to hear more of it
and be fully converted.
Finally,
the most glaring deep cut excluded on “Jewel Box” is one of Elton and Bernie’s
most difficult but triumphant songs:
“Candle In The Wind 1997.”
I
understand the song’s unique connection to history and a sad, tragic event, but
nonetheless, this song is also one of Elton’s crowning public
performances. And Taupin’s expressive
re-working of the original to honor Princess Diana was emotive, not maudlin,
celebratory, not sorrowful. It was a
song that perfectly served the moment.
“Candle
In The Wind 1997” helped heal a nation and the world, and as painful as the
circumstances for its existence may be, its achievement should not be
forgotten, understated, or hidden. It
may be Elton and Bernie’s ultimate, most defining deep cut of all.
DISCS
3, 4 AND 5: RARITIES 1965-1971
Obviously,
these three discs of rare demos written and recorded between 1965-71 are the
collection’s “Holy Grail” for many, and a long overdue generous gesture to the
fans. Though many of these demos have
appeared on the previously “must-have” three-disc “Dick James Demo” bootleg
series, many old and new fans still will be enticed by these early efforts.
I
know I have been. These discs were the
first ones I listened to just out of the shrink wrap. And that’s saying something, considering I
probably haven’t listened to my three “Dick James Demo” bootleg discs since I
first bough them almost 30 years ago.
Some
fans flock to Elton’s demos from any era with greater interest than much of
Elton’s finished material. Though I’ve
appreciated the historical significance of this embryonic work, and as a
collector felt almost obligated to have it, I haven’t devoured it. I don’t know
all the origins and recording details. I
know most of them more by title than by melody or lyric.
I
have always viewed Elton demos for what they are – rough experiments, first attempts,
and often times, unfinished works that may have held promise; unreleased demos are musical snapshots of a
work-in-progress that faded from artist interest and into obscurity. They thrive on their mystery.
“Jewel
Box” uncovers the mystery.
One
motivating mystery solved in “Jewel Box” is the detailed disclosure of a
delayed debut album in 1968 tentatively titled “Regimental Sgt. Zippo.” Though the song itself is known in Elton
collector circles, the possibility of an entire debut album before “Empty Sky”
is a new wrinkle in the Elton John career narrative.
Hearing
the demos that were intended to become “Sgt, Zippo,” the decision to abort the
mission was correct. First, the song and the title are an obvious “Sgt.
Pepper” influence, and Elton undoubtedly would have been savaged by music
critics for the lesser results.
Most
significantly, based on its potential track list, songs like “Nina,” “Angel
Tree” and “Watching The Planes Go By” though steeped in their era are fragile
buds of future growth. “Tartan Coloured
Lady,” with its harpsichord and hippie lyric hints at songs to come later on
their 1969 debut album “Empty Sky.”
These and other songs are close, but both Elton and Bernie still show
signs of growing pains as they search for their individual creative “voices.” Their collective mojo still hadn’t gelled in
1968.
As
I gorged on these demos with three consecutive and complete listens, I found
myself captivated. It was like hearing
both an old and new Elton John at the same time. Most of all, it was so exciting to hear
Elton’s piano playing so dominant throughout these three discs.
If
there is one aspect of Elton’s music that sadly has diminished through the years
– except on 2013’s “The Diving Board” – it’s his piano placed high in the mix
and leading the melody. In concert his
digits dance with dexterity on the piano keys with flair, purpose, and feeling,
but in the recording studio the piano varies in its prominence and
importance.
Hearing
Elton playfully pounding with confidence and commitment on all these demos IS
“Elton John.” To hear so much of Elton’s piano
song-after-song-after-song is pure bliss it’s worth the box set’s price of
admission.
Also,
fully legible versions of two of Elton and Bernie’s earliest songs, “Scarecrow”
and “A Dandelion Dies In The Wind,” are indeed tasty treats. There are more, including the 1971 demo for
“Holiday Inn,” which includes the infamous “lost verse” about a broken TV, lack
of hotel room service, and cold fries.
I
found I liked two demos – “Where It’s At” and “Whose Gonna Love You” – that
were not written with Bernie Taupin, but co-written by Nicky James and Kirk
Duncan, respectively. Both are
straightforward pop-oriented songs, not in the Taupin style, even in his
earliest, raw days.
These
experiments are catchy, bouncy radio-ready tunes that signaled Elton’s innate,
uncanny ability – even at this early stage – to put almost any set of words to
some kind of appealing melody, and effortlessly slide into one musical genre
and shift gears to another with authenticity.
Early
on, I did gravitate most to the John-Taupin songs, as crude and dated as many
are. These previously-vaulted, promising
musical sketches like “Hourglass,” “Turn To Me,” “When I Was Tealby Abbey,”
“There Is Still A Little Love,” “If I Asked You,” “Bonnie’s Gone Away,” “Just
An Ordinary Man” (with its Bacharach opening), “There’s Still Time For Me,” “When
The First Tear Shows” (which impresses thanks to the added horns), and “Sing Me
No Sad Songs” give “Jewel Box” instant credibility for what they convey – the
beginnings of the newly-seeded John-Taupin partnership taking root.
These
demos – especially those on Disc Two -- show Elton growing in vocal style,
sureness, risk, and bravado, and he gradually gives Taupin’s lyrics deeper,
melodical foundations to shine and soar.
The demos confirm the crucial, enthusiastic advocacy of early supporter, mentor, and
first producer, Steve Brown.
As
the John-Taupin demos begin in 1967 we hear songs that stir with naïve, ambitious
stabs at “Sgt. Pepper” pop psychedelia. Next,
as we move into 1968 and ‘69, we hear a more focused and mature style emerging.
And by 1970, their collective talents magically mesh.
By
the time you get to the “Tumbleweed” and “Madman” demos, their work has drastically
transformed. The musical and lyrical
synergy that will become one of the best and successful songwriting
partnerships in history is evident and ready.
It’s a star-crossed, “star is born” tale come true.
After
listening to all three discs, I had a startling epiphany.
When
presented in this form and sound quality, these demos aren’t just individual
songs or the manifestation of Elton and Bernie’s youthful hopes and dreams.
These demos aren’t just some heart-tugging tokens of nostalgia.
Instead,
“Jewel Box” has altered these demos from long-abandoned, boxed and stored
pastiche of the past and bestowed on them new relevance; the personification of
the “Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy” album. These demos directly inform the story Bernie
was telling 45 years ago about how “hand in hand went the music and the rhyme”
between him and Reg Dwight. How, at 17
years old, Bernie was “still green and growing.” The demos represent Elton and Bernie
“stepping in the ring” and the start of their “long and lonely climb.”
We
hear firsthand, how for Bernie, Elton became “the honey the hive could be
holding.”
These
demos are the struggles, the disappointments, the need for “all those shoulders
when we cried“ in “Tower Of Babel.” These
demos the evidence of why “it’s hard to write a song with bitter fingers.” These demos are the “naïve notions that
were childish” and “the simple tunes that tried to hide it.”
For
years in interviews, Elton and Bernie related the angst of their beginnings
when they were “out for the count,” and signed to Dick James (one of the “old
diehards on Denmark Street”) as writers for hire -- the so-called “Tin Pan
Alley Twins.”
But
now, we hear the sources of that angst.
Many of these demos are what Taupin describes as “hawking hunks of
garbage” while writing for other performers and being asked to “knock a line or
two, together for a friend.”
We
immediately hear through some of these crude efforts the duo’s “desperate
desire for change,” but also recognize why some correctly felt “there’s a
chance that one day, you might write a standard, lads.” Just two years after they were coupled by Ray
Williams, they did just that with “Your Song.”
In
these demos you hear Elton and Bernie’s youthful exuberance, their “inspiration
for navigation” of their “newfound craft.”
And how their songwriting process is “always half and half.”
Of
all the songs on “Captain Fantastic,” however, these demos imbue deeper
meanings to many of Taupin’s reflections and emotions in the album’s two final
songs -- “We All Fall In Love Sometimes” and “Curtains.” These two songs are powerful in their
reminisces and love, and these “Jewel Box” demos now enable these thoughts to
burst and overflow.
The
“Jewel Box” demos document how their “Empty Sky was filled with laughter” and are
the basis for Elton and Bernie’s mythic and magical “once upon a time.”
DISCS
6 AND 7: B-SIDES 1976-2005
Ah,
the Elton B-sides. The “Elton extras,” if
you will.
In
the days of vinyl buying in the ‘70s and the ‘80s, you knew you were a serious
Elton John fan if you first played the flipside rather than “hit side” of an
Elton single. You played the “B” rather
than the “A’ side.
You
did this because you’d already heard the hit single on the radio many, many
times by now, but in most cases, rather than just plopping an album cut on the
B-side of the single, Elton often gave his fans a little something extra – an
unreleased outtake. For major Elton John
fans, this meant a new song. More Elton
to explore and enjoy.
And
Elton’s B-sides were not sub-par studio throwaways. These were good or even excellent songs that for
whatever reason weren’t deemed “album worthy.”
However, these B-sides often were better than the songs that did
make it on the albums. The consistently high
quality of Elton’s B-sides through the years soon begged a regular and
perplexing question for Elton fans, “How the hell could he leave that song
off the album?”
The
fact the “Jewel Box” includes two, count ‘em, two B-side discs – 36 songs – is
proof the fans weren’t wrong all these years.
And this fact is compounded because there are several B-sides that were
left out.
There
are deserving “discards” within the 1976-2005 time frame this set features that
are missing, including “Lovesick,” “Suit Of Wolves,” the John Lennon-inspired,
“The Man Who Never Died,” and even some outtakes like “Planes,” “Strangers,”
and “Dreamboat.” Other excellent album worthy
B-sides dating back to 1973 could have been included, like eternal
head-scratchers like “Whenever You’re Ready (We’ll Go Steady Again), “Jack
Rabbit,” “Screw You (Young Man’s Blues),” “Sick City,” “Cold Highway,” “Skyline
Pigeon (Piano Version),” “One Day At A Time,” “Sugar On The Floor,” and “House
Of Cards.”
True,
these latter tracks were on the 1992 “Rare Masters” collection, but so
what? Why not re-master these, give them
some added exposure and offer them for completist reasons? Couldn’t we make “Jewel Box” a 10-disc set? Go
big or go home, right?
These
minor quibbles aside, the 36 B-sides featured in “Jewel Box” add to the set’s
growing body of evidence of just how bottomless Elton’s catalogue is when heard
en masse.
Songs
like the dreamy, cryptic “Snow Queen,” the driving ballad, “Conquer The Sun,”
the Latin-fused, “Love So Cold” (complete with a spot-on Desi Arnaz imitation),
the country-fried “Can’t Get Over Getting Over You,” the syth-swirling “Take Me
Down To The Ocean,” and the funky, keyboard-driven “Rope Around A Fool,” all
could have been solid album cuts -- and should have been.
The
cavity-inducing, bouncing Beach Boys homage, “I Know Why I’m In Love” and the
charging “Big Man In A Little Suit” would have been the best songs on 1997’s
disappointingly over-produced, languid affair, “The Big Picture,” the
alternate, harder rocking, guitar wailing mix of “Where Have All The Good Times
Gone?” included here should have been the version used on 1982’s “Jump Up!,” and
the saucy, French charms of the two 1980 France Gall collaborations, “Les Aveux”
and “Donner Pour Donner,” are hard to resist.
The
soaring “The North Star” recorded during 2001’s “Songs From The West Coast”
sessions definitely should have been on that album, which already is one of
Elton’s best -- and this could have made it even better.
Equally,
I argue the four B-sides offered from 2004’s under-appreciated “Peachtree Road”
all were missed opportunities and their inclusion on the official album would
have helped its second half take flight. Notably, “So Sad The Renegade” and
“How’s Tomorrow” are two of the best songs Elton and Bernie have written in the
2000s.
And
that’s what we love about B-sides. They
were born with a dubious destiny. If the
demo discs are the “might have beens,” this gathering of Elton “rejects” proves
there are plenty of “should have beens” – excellent songs that deserved better
than a B-side fate.
DISC
8: “AND THIS IS ME…”
The
eighth and final disc, titled “And This Is Me…” refers to Elton’s autobiography
and are songs Elton chose that reflect him professionally and personally. This imaginative list of 16 songs pre-date
his first album, with the trippy, 1969’s single, “Lady Samantha,” and follows
his yellow brick road to the present day – the 2019, Oscar-winning duet with
Taron Egerton, “(I’m Gonna) Love Me Again.”
Overall,
it’s an interesting selection, with mostly lesser known album tracks that hold
special meaning for Elton in their subject matter, influence, or recording.
He
begins this final disc with the title track of his debut album, “Empty Sky,” a
transcendent time capsule and jamming musical journey, and peppers it with a
host of many classic deep cut ballads including the Bob Dylan favorite, “My
Father’s Gun,” the hidden “coming out” quandary, “All The Nasties,” two Tom
Robinson co-writing compositions -- the stately “Sartorial Eloquence,” and the
quiet anguish of a school boy crush, “Elton’s Song” -- the gospel raving,
“Amazes Me,” the AIDS-aching father and son reunion of “The Last Song,” and the
elegant elegy for the hate crime slain, Matthew Shephard, “American Triangle.”
This
disc holds a few surprises, especially for including one of Elton’s biggest
hits, “Philadelphia Freedom.” At first
blush it seems odd among the other lesser-known tracks, given its #1 hit status
and zealous popularity.
But
on further review, it makes perfect sense.
Musically, the song reflects Elton’s lifelong love of soul, blues, and
gospel, with a Gene Page (“You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” and Barry White) arrangement
that gives a nod to Gamble And Huff, and Thom Bell – key architects of the ‘70s
“Philly Soul” sound so close to Elton’s heart.
It’s
also a loving gift from Elton to one of his dearest friends, Billie Jean King,
and includes some introspective lyrics including, “I used to be a rolling
stone,” “I’d leave to find the answer on the road,” “I used to be a
heart-beating for someone, but the times have changed,” and “gave me peace of
mind my daddy never had.” Though Taupin
penned these lines more than 45 years ago, they are eerily timely and can
describe Elton in 2020.
The
“And This Is Me…” disc is a fine final curtain for “Jewel Box.” It provides a personal coda to a personal
musical journey. I’m listening to this
one to this one a lot too.
Sure,
I know I’ve rambled, over-analyzed, and both been over critical and over
enthusiastic. In other words, I’ve been
a diehard Elton John fan. No apologies.
I’ve
been listening to Elton’s music for more than two-thirds of my life, and
because of the plunder in “Elton: Jewel Box,” my excitement and passion for Elton’s
music is rejuvenated. It’s just as
strong and enveloping today as it was when that unsuspecting 9-year-old kid bought
his first Elton John vinyl 45 of “Crocodile Rock” in 1973 and everything
changed.
All
involved in this project deserve to take a bow for a job well done. This box set has delivered something special
that fans never thought they’d get.
“Elton:
Jewel Box” is a godsend that drills deep to excavate many spectacular,
sparkling, precious memories and moments of Elton John’s more than half century
of musical mastery. We fans hope there
are more gems to come.
You
can never have enough jewels in your collection. Just ask Elton
