Tag: bernie taupin

Bernie Taupin: Elton’s “Write” Hand Man

Bernie Taupin: Elton’s “Write” Hand Man

By Steven P. Wheeler

It is the summer of 1989. Six months of phone calls and patience has finally paid off. Bernie Taupin, the man who has been placing words into the mouth of Elton John since 1967, sits behind the desk in a cluttered office high atop Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood, California, willing to discuss all aspects of his illustrious career.

As one half of the most prolific and enduring songwriting team in pop music history, Taupin, like his more famous partner, is a musical legend.

The English-born lyricist arrived a few minutes late after flying in from Denver, Colorado, where Elton’s Sleeping With the Past Tour had made a stop. Taupin noted that he is accompanying Elton on the entire tour for the first time in more than a decade because “I’m really into this project and I want to be with him for this album [Sleeping With the Past]. I also wanted to do one more tour before I hang up my road shoes.”

With a long ponytail falling from underneath a baseball cap and earrings dangling from each ear, the then-39-year-old lyricist/poet/novelist has maintained his “bohemic” image after 20 years in the fickle business of music, and steadfastly believes that the John-Taupin partnership is producing some of its finest material to date.

Now that the scene has been set, I’ll also be adding in more dialogue that I had with Taupin when we sat down again in 1996 to discus his own band, Farm Dogs, as well as some current details of Bernie’s career as a visual artist to bring it all home.

The magical bio-pic Rocketman is also available now for home viewing this week, so check it out if you missed it in theaters.

Elton’s memorable induction speech at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1994.

The Ad That Changed Music History

Born May 22, 1950, the second of three sons, Bernie Taupin always dreamed of being a writer, but schooling wasn’t something that the future songwriting legend put a lot of stock in. Leaving school at 15, the closest he came to a writing career in those days was working in the printing room of the local newspaper.

Like many kids his age growing up in Lincolnshire, England, the dreamer with a fascination for America was a bit directionless and sought more than what his small town upbringing had to offer. “I was living in the north of England. I was basically a farm hand. It was either sink or swim for me at that time,” Taupin explained. “I was either going to break out of the area, because the area I was living in was sort of akin to living in Indiana or Nebraska, where you have two opportunities after you leave school: you either work on the land and drive a tractor or you go and work in the steel towns.

“Living in Lincolnshire, I did both of those things: I worked on the land and I worked in a factory. I did have a certain literary background on my mother’s side of the family. My mother was very instrumental in making me read good literature and she was always encouraging me to write. And my grandfather was a college professor, so I always had aspirations of writing. Obviously, it was very youthful writing at that time, but, again, it was an early time.”

Always a music fan, one day in 1967, Taupin was thumbing through his latest copy of the New Musical Express and happened upon an ad. Little did he know that his life was just about to change forever.

The actual ad that a teenage poet named Bernie Taupin and a pianist named Reginald Dwight would both answer, and soon would discover that fate had brought them together.

“I answered that ad out of desperation, really,” Taupin told me in 1989. “Elton and I did meet through an ad in the New Musical Express in 1967. It’s not that complicated really. We both answered the same ad, and just through the ingenuity of Ray Williams, one of the people involved in placing the ad—which was actually for Liberty Records when they broke away from EMI—we were put together.

“They were just starting a new company, and they needed everybody—they needed somebody to clean the floors, they needed somebody to write songs, they needed artists, they needed promo men.”

Reginald Dwight (aka Elton John) with Ray Williams, who gave the unknown pianist a batch of lyrics sent in by Bernie Taupin. Elton would actually write music to quite a few of Taupin’s lyrics before the two would actually meet face-to-face.
The very first song ever written by Reg Dwight and Bernie Taupin in 1967.

As for his part, Taupin says that his early attempt at writing song lyrics were heavily influenced by the era, which, in America, would become known as the Summer of Love.

“When we first met, the object was basically to write songs. There was no notion in our minds that Elton was to be a performer. It was just Bernie Taupin and Reg Dwight then, and we were signed to Dick James Music, and we were writing songs.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

“It was the late ‘60s, and it was the era of tremendous pretention,” he stated with a laugh. “So the things that I was writing when I first attempted to write lyrics, which I didn’t really know what I was supposed to write, were appalling rip-offs of John Lennon material or Procol Harum or things like that.

“I was writing things like ‘The Chocolate Lakes of Your Mind,’ ‘The Year of the Teddy Bear’ and ‘Swan Queen of the Laughing Lake.’ They were all these sort of acid-trip things, which I had no justification in writing because I didn’t even know what acid looked like at the time.”

Another early attempt from the Dwight/Taupin partnership.

The Tin Pan Alley Twins

Eventually the two budding songwriters would meet and they were signed to Dick James Music. Contrary to his portrayal in the Rocketman movie, Dick James was a major player in the industry who owned The Beatles publishing.

“When we first met, the object was basically to write songs. There was no notion in our minds that Elton was to be a performer,” explained Taupin. “It was just Bernie Taupin and Reg Dwight then, and we were signed to Dick James Music, and we were writing songs.

Bernie Taupin and Reginald Dwight, the songwriting team signed to Dick James Music.

“Now, this was still in the days of Tin Pan Alley and Denmark Street in London, when most singers who were making records were not writing their own songs. It was really the days of Tom Jones and Lulu. Even the groups that were out there were recording a lot of outside material. So there was a great demand for songs, and we weren’t nurtured and we weren’t encouraged to write what we wanted to write.

An example of the “big-time ballads” that Dwight and Taupin were writing for artists like Tom Jones. Not surprisingly, they were not being recorded by the artists in question.

“We were sort of forced to write big-time ballads for people like Engelbert Humperdink and Tom Jones—not that they ever recorded any of our material because it really wasn’t any good.”

The Turning Point

Just as the unsung Ray Williams put the two songwriters together, another person lost to history who played a vital role in the evolution of the Dwight/Taupin team was a maverick within the Dick James company, as Bernie explained: “In order to make money we had to write that kind of material. But on the side, we started tinkering with a little bit more experimental songs.

“And sometime later on, a guy named Steve Brown came into the Dick James organization and heard some of the songs we were trying to write for other people, and he said, ‘Listen, don’t be writing this shit. Concentrate on writing exactly what you want to write. Don’t worry about Dick, I’ll pacify him,’ because Dick was still paying our way.”

Reginald Dwight (now Elton John), Bernie, drummer Nigel Olsson, Steve Brown and Dick James. The long-haired and bearded Brown was the maverick executive who told the young songwriters to stop trying to write songs for other people and to write for themselves.

“We were writing these kinds of songs, and it was at that point that we realized that the only people who could really record them was ourselves. And Elton had been singing on all the demos, so I just said, ‘Well, I guess it has to be you because you have the better voice and you play the piano.’ It could have been anybody, I guess, it could have been me.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)
“Lady Samantha” was the first single released by the newly christened artist Elton John to get any radio airplay and notice, as limited as the recognition was in early 1969. The duo got a boost when the American group, Three Dog Night recorded “Lady Samantha” on their album.

“So we sort of went home and start writing what we felt like writing, and those were the nucleus of the early songs like ‘Lady Samantha’ that would eventually lead up to the Empty Sky album. We were writing these kinds of songs, and it was at that point that we realized that the only people who could really record them was ourselves. And Elton had been singing on all the demos, so I just said, ‘Well, I guess it has to be you because you have the better voice and you play the piano.’ It could have been anybody, I guess, it could have been me [laughs].”

Two Rooms

The most interesting aspect of the John/Taupin partnership is how they work. Taupin starts the process by writing or typing out his lyrics, passes them on to Elton and leaves the ivory-tickler to come up with the music. This bizarre working relationship is the same today as it was when they began in 1967.

“Over the years, the actual style of our writing has not changed,” Taupin states. “I’ve always written the lyrics first and given them to Elton and he writes the music. We’ve always worked totally separate, but it’s a 50-50 deal.

“In the early days, when we were writing those first initial songs, we were living at Elton’s mother’s apartment in Northwood Hills just outside of London, and it was very much like two young songwriters honing their craft.  I mean, we were discovering the way each other worked. It’s about honing your craft, about discovering each other’s working patterns.”

Elton demonstrates the writing process with a new song called “Tiny Dancer.”

“It was funny, I’d be in the bedroom writing lyrics and he’d be in the living room at the stand-up piano,” Taupin continued, “and I’d bring him some lyrics and go back to the bedroom and write some more. It was very childish.

“There’s a song on the Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy album [the autobiographical classic released in 1975] called ‘Writing,’ which I think does a very good job about summing up that period of time.”

Taupin’s brilliant lyric detailing the early days when the two songwriters were writing songs day and night while living with Elton’s mother in the late ’60s.

“Even to this day people find it very strange that that’s how we work. I mean, I don’t know any other songwriting team that’s ever done it this way. So we really broke the mold. And, for me, it was a dream come true because I didn’t have to conform to any restrictions. I could just write what I wanted.

“In those early days, I had no real sense of form. I was just writing very, very long pieces and Elton was honing them into songs. For historical note, a lot of those early songs probably had several more verses.”

This “honing’ process even happened as late as 1972 and resulted in one of pop music’s classic hits. “It’s like the famous story of ‘Daniel.’ The original lyric of ‘Daniel’ had another verse, which basically explained what the song was about. But because it was too long, we left it out and, of course, to this day people are still wondering what that song is about.

“It’s basically about a young boy whose older brother is a Vietnam vet who comes home to the farm, and he can’t find any peace, so he flies off to Spain where he can hopefully find some. It’s written from the boy’s point of view as he watches him fly away.”

“Empty Sky” Album

With the encouragement of Steve Brown at Dick James Music, it was time to try and push the newly christened Elton John to do an album after the less than successful singles. With a very small budget and Brown helming the sessions as producer, the result was the album Empty Sky, which was only released in England. America would have to wait.

Looking back on that debut album, one can’t help but feel Taupin’s fondness for that first big moment in their career. Still in his teens at the time, and Elton only 22, this was an early dream come true for the pair, even if there was no sign that stardom was on the horizon.

“[Empty Sky] got a modicum of good reaction. It got just as much bad reaction,” the lyricist says with a laugh. “It was a slightly sort of pretentious album. I think we were still finding our way. It was a very naïve album.

“Lyrically, it was steeped in Norse mythology and sort of based on what I was reading at the time, which was a lot of science fiction by writers like H.G. Wells and H.P. Lovecraft. So it came across like that.”

Despite being recorded in a primitive two-track studio, some of the magic of the John/Taupin partnership could be seen. When pushed, Taupin does agree that this first effort did include some worthy material.

“It did have its moments,” he agreed. “The title track was quite interesting. I actually wouldn’t mind re-recording that song because it was done in a two-track studio at the time [laughs]. We were basically trying to do ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ with that introduction [Bernie drums on the desk like the conga intro of the song].

The overlooked title track of the Empty Sky album.

“But that one track really stands out for me, and, in fact, until sometime in the mid-‘70s Elton used to do that song on stage. It would be interesting to do that song again, I think.”

When Taupin is reminded of another song from the album, he readily agrees: “There’s a couple of other decent songs on that album. ‘Skyline Pigeon’ is on there, which is a fairly naïve lyric, but it’s actually a good song, a good melody.”

‘Skyline Pigeon’ & Ryan White

Elton has said that 1969’s “Skyline Pigeon” was the first song that he and Bernie had felt truly excited about; that they had found their voice for the first time.

Bu twenty years later, the significance of the song would take on an entirely new meaning as Elton would perform this song at the funeral for teenage AIDS victim Ryan White. White made national news after he had contracted the deadly virus through a blood transfusion in 1984 at the age of 13. He died in 1990 at 18, with a quote from Bernie’s lyric gracing his headstone.

Bernie, Ryan White and Elton not longer before White’s tragic death in 1990.

During the final week of Ryan’s life in Indiana, Elton spent a lot of time with Ryan and his family. The pampered superstar was humbled by the family who bore no ill will towards the bigotry and indignation they suffered during those early days of the AIDS crisis: protests to keep White from returning to his high school, gunshots fired at their home, which forced them to leave their hometown.

It was Ryan’s forgiveness and grace and his mother’s humility in the face of losing her child that impacted Elton and made him look at his own life. At that point in time, Elton was a major drug addict who lived a life of privilege and wealth with no sense of reality; even to the point of calling his management company to have them do something about the strong wind that was blowing outside his hotel room and keeping him awake.

Within six months of Ryan’s death, Elton would get sober and has remained so ever since. He also started his own AIDS Foundation in 1992 that has raised nearly half-a-billion dollars over the past 27 years.

Elton performing “Skyline Pigeon” at Ryan White’s funeral in 1990.

The Beginning of Fame

Although Empty Sky barely made a ripple of an impact in England, Dick James did put his money where his mouth was and spent a lot of money on the next album. The self-titled album would be the first to be released in America and it was the first major step in what has become a 50-year journey of fame and fortune for the two songwriters.

“I don’t know what we expected from that record,” Taupin recalls, “but I think it gave Dick James some confidence in us. At the time of the Empty Sky album, I think Dick realized that he had something going because at that time in England there was nobody of that ilk. America had its Van Morrisons, its Joni Mitchells, its Carole Kings and James Taylors, but there was nobody like that in England. So I guess we were the Great English Hope.

“And Dick, to all his credit, poured a lot of money into the Elton John album. And Steve Brown, who had produced the Empty Sky album only because he happened to be there at the time, said, ‘For this next album, we’ve got to get the right producer, we’ve got to get the right arranger, and we’ve got to build the right team around us.’ And that’s what we did with [producer] Gus Dudgeon and [arranger] Paul Buckmaster.”

The “team” that would turn Elton John into a household name within two years.
The innovative rocker that meshed rock & roll with an orchestra and choir from 1970’s self-titled album. Elton still plays “Take Me to the Pilot” in his concerts to this very day.

In a bold move, Dick James sent Elton and Bernie to America, along with drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray. The legendary concert engagement at The Troubadour in Los Angeles resulted in massive media coverage and word about the piano-playing madman spread across the U.S. like wildfire.

Bernie recalled those heady days when his childhood dream of coming to America was soon realized. “Luckily, the Elton John album was the one that took off. Funny enough, it actually took off in America first, and sort of boomeranged back to England. By the time we actually came to America to promote the Elton John album, we had already gotten the Tumbleweed Connection album in the bag too, which was to be the follow-up.

“When we first came to the States, we brought the tapes of the Tumbleweed album with us. I remember playing it for Robbie Robertson [chief songwriter and guitarist for The Band] in a hotel in New York. And from there, as they say, the rest is history.”

The American Dream

The mention of the Tumbleweed Connection classic instantly brings to mind visions of America in the days of simple pioneering days and the gunslinging Wild West. Ironically these vivid scenes and scenarios came from the pen of a teenage English kid who had never set foot on Yankee soil.

“Coming to the States was something that every kid in England wanted to do at that time,” Taupin says with a childlike enthusiasm. “When we got the opportunity at the time of the Elton John album in 1970, I think the real reason that Elton and I wanted to come here was so that we could see the record stores, because we were vinyl junkies back then. As a matter of fact, we still are.

“Plus, as a kid I kind of fed on Americana—American television, American literature—and I was obsessed with the American West. Like I said, we even did the Tumbleweed Connection album even before we came here, because I was so influenced by a mixture of things from The Band to Dylan, but definitely The Band because The Band to me epitomized Americana and that timeless quality. I loved The Band. I mean, The Band is probably still my all-time favorite rock and roll band. I think they encompass everything that is good in that art form.”

The classic track from 1970’s Tumbleweed Connection album was also covered by Rod Stewart on his own 1970 album, Gasoline Alley.

“A lot of the stuff we were listening to was coming out of the West Coast of America—people like Love, The Doors and Buffalo Springfield. It was that nucleus time. So we had this sort of preconceived notion of the Promised Land being California.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

While he had a dream of what America was really like, I asked Bernie if the States lived up to his expectations. His answer came swift and strong: “Oh yeah, absolutely, and even more probably. I don’t think anybody in Europe can understand America until they’ve actually been here. And when we first came here, the last thing on our mind was actually thinking about playing shows or performing. We just wanted to come and see it! It was phenomenal.

“As soon as I got here, I said that America is where I wanted to be. It was everything that I ever dreamed it was going to be and more. Before I knew it I had sold up shop and I was here, and I’ve never wanted to go back, and now I’m an American citizen.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

The question is whether he still feels the same nearly 50 years later? “Obviously a bit of the shine has worn off over the years,” he answers, “but as soon as I got here, after a couple of days, I said that America is where I wanted to be. It was everything that I ever dreamed it was going to be and more.

“In the next year or so, I got to discover America more by touring, which we did a lot of, and you see the expanse of the country and you see how different people live in different walks of life in America—from the shine here in L.A. to the blue-collar areas to the East Coast—and all those variables just appealed to me. Before I knew it I had sold up shop and I was here, and I’ve never wanted to go back, and now I’m an American citizen.”

American Music

“You see, the thing was that Elton and I fed on American imports while we were growing up in England,” the lifelong music lover explains, “and we just fed on American music. There used to be a place on Berwick Street in London, called One Stop Records, and it was really the only place in London that used to get all the American imports.

“On Fridays, we used to go down there and just wait for these shipments to come in. In those days, in England, they didn’t shrink-wrap records like they shrink-wrap records here, and there was just a difference in the materials that the album covers and the records were made with. It was really exciting to get the new Hendrix album or whatever, because every thing would usually come out in America first.”

By 1972, Bernie’s lyrics reflected his love for America in tone and style and with their Honky Chateau album they finally hit the top of the charts and would have a total of seven consecutive albums hit the #1 spot on the Billboard Charts over the next three years.

Despite their overwhelming success, Taupin notes that it is their undying love for music that keeps them moving creatively. “Elton and I love all kinds of music,” he notes. “I don’t care if it’s jazz, blues, rock & roll, metal or folk; if it’s good, I like it. There are certain things that Elton listens to more than me. Elton likes dance music. I don’t particularly listen to it. Most of the stuff I listen to now is country music. That’s really all I listen to.”

In 2002, Bernie wrote the lyrics for this song that was recorded by country icon Willie Nelson and Lee Ann Womack. The song hit #22 on the Country Charts and won a Grammy.

“We’re still vinyl junkies,” Taupin continues, “and I think that’s what still makes us viable because we train each other on what we’ve been listening to. Whenever we talk after we’ve been away from each other for a while, the first thing we say is, ‘Have you heard this? Have you heard that?’ We’re still the biggest music fans in the world.”

Their love of all music styles has kept the John/Taupin team churning out hundreds of songs covering an unparalleled amount of genres. This lost gem from the 2003 film Mona Lisa Smiles is just one of many examples of how many excellent songs have been pushed to the shadows by their incredible amount of hit singles.
The staggering amount of hit singles from the pen of Bernie Taupin, with and without Elton.

Looking Back

While there are countless John/Taupin songs over the past half-century destined to outlive their creators in the hearts and minds of music fans, Taupin still has to deal with critics who have not always been kind to the Tin Pan Alley Twins.

“The thing that people tend to forget is that we were very young when we started. Elton and I met in mid-1967, and I was only 17. So it’s interesting to me when I see reviews of Elton’s concerts today. It’s like when the New York Times did a review of a show on last year’s tour when Elton played some of our older material like ‘Sixty Years On’ and ‘The King Must Die,’ and this guy pointed out how pretentious the lyrics to ‘Sixty Years On’ and ‘The King Must Die’ are, and I felt like writing a letter saying, ‘Excuse me, I was 17 years old when I wrote that.’ They don’t seem to realize that.”

The epic finale from their 1970 American debut, written when Taupin was still a teen.

This topic comes up again when I ask about their first major hit, which has become an unquestionable pop standard. “It’s like the perennial ballad ‘Your Song,’ which has got to be one of the most naïve and childish lyrics in the entire repertoire of music, but I think the reason it still stands up is because it was real at the time. That was exactly what I was feeling. I was 17 or 18 years old and it was coming from someone whose outlook on love or experience with love was totally new and naïve.

“Now I could never write that song again or emulate it because the songs I write now that talk about love coming from people my age usually deal with broken marriages and where the children go [laughs]. You have to write from where you are at a particular point in time, and ‘Your Song’ is exactly where I was coming from back then.”

The original demo of “Your Song,” which Elton put music to on October 27, 1969. It would become a Top Ten hit in January of 1971.

Working Backwards

Since they have been writing together for more than 50 years, I was curious if they had ever switched their Modus Operandi where Bernie wrote lyrics to Elton’s melody. Surprisingly it did happen at one point during the early ’80s.

“We did do it the other way around at one point, and it wasn’t that we tried to do it that way. It just ended up that way. Elton was staying in Paris, and our time schedule was very off. He had been locked in this studio writing all these melodies and he asked me to write some lyrics to a handful of them. I did, and those songs were on an album called Jump Up! [released in 1982], which for me is probably the worst album we’ve ever made.

“It’s a very messy album. The songs are awful. I only wrote five songs on that album, so I’m not going to pass comment on some of the other songs. But it’s a messy album, very inconsistent. We’ve made some bum albums, believe me. There are albums like The Fox, too, which I thought was a complete disaster, even though it had a couple of good songs on it.”

“There is one song where [Elton] did come up with the melody line before I came up with a lyric, and it’s the only time that method worked for us. That was on a song called ‘Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word.’”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

However the Jump Up! did include one John/Taupin classic, which was written about their dear friend John Lennon after his tragic murder in 1980. “In fact, the only song that’s any good is ‘Empty Garden,’ which is the only one where I wrote the lyrics first on. It’s really the only song on that album that’s any good.”

Before moving on to the next topic, Bernie stops me in mid-sentence to point out that there was one instance where writing a lyric to Elton’s melody did result in a great song. “Wait a minute, I lied,” he says with a laugh. “There is one other song where he did come up with the melody line before I came up with a lyric, and it’s the only time that method worked for us. That was on a song called ‘Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word.’

“I don’t think he was intending on writing a song but we were sitting around an apartment in Los Angeles, and he was playing around on the piano and he came up with this melody line, and I said, ‘Hey, that’s really nice.’ For some reason this lyrical line ‘Sorry seems to be the hardest word’ ran through my head, and it fit perfectly with what he was playing. So I said, ‘Don’t do anything more to that, let me go write something,’ so I wrote it out in a few minutes and we had the song.”

The only hit song where Bernie wrote a lyric to one of Elton’s melodies, instead of the lyrics coming first like their normal process.

Tuneful Telepathy

Since Elton writes the music to Bernie’s lyrics, another burning question is whether or not the lyricist has ever been disappointed in the music that has been applied to his words. “Well, we’ve been writing together so long that it’s almost telepathic now,” he says matter of factly. “There’s also much more communication in our writing now. At one time, I would just give him a stack of stuff and he’d pick out what appealed to him. Nowadays, I’m more confident and he’s more confident, and we’re more confident with each other, so we talk about things more.

“I also don’t give him as much material to play with as I once did. I’m not afraid to give him a lyric and say: ‘Elton, I think this one is really good. I see it in this light.’ But I don’t like to tread on his toes too much because he’s so inventive and he’s so brilliant that it’s really not necessary to complicate matters and get in his way.

“I’m sure it has happened occasionally in the past where I’ve been not necessarily disappointed with what he’s done, but surprised. The last episode I can remember was with the last track on the Reg Strikes Back album [released in 1987], a song called ‘Since God Invented Girls.’ I had written it more as an up-tempo Beach Boys’ salute, and he turned it into more of a Brian Wilson opus than I had imagined it. Then again, I preferred it the way he did it, and we used the Beach Boys on it.

“So, yeah, it usually can be said that it turns out the way I want it to, but like I said I explain things to him much more than I ever did. Then again, you’ve also got to remember that by the subject matter of a lyric you can kind of tell which direction a song should go. I mean if you write ‘Saturday night’s alright for fighting,’ you’re really not going to write a ballad.”

Quality AND Quantity

Another amazing aspect of the John/Taupin partnership is not only the quality of the songs but also the seemingly endless quantity. How in the world were they able to fulfill a backbreaking contract that called for two albums per year for nearly ten years?

Taupin shrugs and says, “We’re just very prolific writers, who enjoy writing. Don’t ever let anybody tell you that if it takes you a long time to write a song it’s going to be any better than if you write it in ten minutes. Certain people like Don Henley or Robbie Robertson are great writers, but they slave over the songs and it takes them three years to make an album because they’re meticulous in the sense that they go over and over and over things.

“I’m the sort of writer to where if it’s not working for me in like ten minutes, I know it’s going nowhere. My best stuff comes straight out and pours out, and the same with Elton. We just happen to write very quickly, and while some of our material might suffer for it, we’re just those kind of writers.”

Obviously, over the years, they have slowed down that ridiculous pace. “We don’t write as much as we used to,” he revealed to me in 1989. “I mean in the early ‘70s that’s all we did was write songs continually. We had huge backlogs of material.

“Now I certainly have other outside interests, and songwriting takes up a very, very small percentage of my time. But I probably enjoy doing it more now than I ever did because when I sit down to write now, I think my ideas are much more concentrated and I think my ideas are probably better. Maybe they’re just more adult. That’s why I don’t really consider myself to be a songwriter, I think of myself as a writer.”

Poetry vs. Lyrics

When it comes to the topic of poetry and lyrics, Bernie takes a firm stance about the difference. “People, who are being very sweet and well meaning, are always telling me that my lyrics are poetry, which absolutely makes me barf,” he says. “My lyrics are nothing like poetry. They’re supposed to be heard with a melody. I don’t like people taking my lyrics out of context and reading it as poetry. They were written to be sung; they were not written to be recited.”

“People, who are being very sweet and well meaning, are always telling me that my lyrics are poetry, which absolutely makes me barf. My lyrics are nothing like poetry. They’re supposed to be heard with a melody. They were written to be sung; they were not written to be recited.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

“I’m very adamant about that because nobody’s ever seen my poetry. Poetry is one of my first loves, and I think of myself as a poet but I also think of myself as a lyricist and a writer. So that’s why I’d rather be known as a writer instead of a songwriter, because songwriting is such a small part of my life. I love writing, that is my life.

“My poetry is very dear to me, and I’ve worked very hard on it. What I did recently is I went through all my old notebooks and I put all of my poetry in the word processor [Ed. Note: Kids, computers in the ’80s were often referred to as “word processors” ;)], re-evaluated it, edited it, and added to it, and came up with my first volume of poetry, which I hope will be out next year.”

In 1988, Bernie’s memoir about his pre-fame days called A Cradle of Haloes: Sketches of a Childhood was published and, in 1991, his first book of poetry entitled The Devil at High Noon was also published.

“As long as I’m doing something in any field of writing I’m happy. I’ve got to have something feeding me all the time. My dream of the future is to be able to retire to my wherever and just write. That’s all I want to do. There’s just not enough hours in the day for me to do that.”

“Disposable Pop”

Over the years, Elton has dubbed many of their songs as “disposable pop,” so I asked Bernie if he agreed. “We’ve made an incredible amount of ‘disposable pop,’ especially in the early-to-mid ‘70s with things like ‘Crocodile Rock,’ ‘Honky Cat’ and ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.’ Yeah, it’s very disposable. It’s music for the moment.

“I don’t want people to remember me for ‘Crocodile Rock.’ I’d much rather they remember me for songs like ‘Candle in the Wind’ and ‘Empty Garden,’ songs that convey a message. Well, they don’t really have to convey a message, as long as they convey a feeling. There are certain love songs or ballads that we’ve written that have an intensity and an integrity that I think will remain intact for a very long time. With things like ‘Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word’ and ‘Daniel,’ I can honestly say that I’m pretty proud of our output as far as commercial singles are concerned.

Elton, producer Gus Dudgeon, and Bernie in the studio during the Caribou recording sessions in 1974. The album would become their fifth of seven consecutive #1s.

“But there are other things that are probably very ‘surface,’ where the feeling is not really that realistic, things like ‘Crocodile Rock,’ which was fun at the time, but it was ‘pop fluff.’ It was like, ‘Okay, that was fun for now, throw it away and here’s the next one.’ So there’s a certain element of our music that is disposable, but I think you’ll find that in anybody’s catalog.”

“Unfortunately, today, people think that ‘pop’ is a dirty word. It’s got to be rock & roll or post-modern,” he continued. “Fuck, it’s all pop. As much as I love John Cougar Mellencamp, ‘never wanted to be a pop singer,’ yes he did! [laughs]. Pop singer means popular singer; to be popular.

“Frank Sinatra was a pop singer. Bruce Springsteen is a pop singer. I’m sorry, if anyone says otherwise, they’re full of shit because that’s what it means. Rock & roll is a much earthier term to use—yeah, rock & roll singer—but they’re all pop singers. U2 is a pop group, I’m sorry. I’ve got as much social conscience as anybody, believe me, but we are all pop singers.”

Bernie wrote this powerful socially relevant ballad about a young man dying of AIDS, which was included on their acclaimed 2001 album Songs From the West Coast.

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

In 1973, their legendary double-album Goodbye Yellow Brick Road thrust Bernie and Elton into the stratosphere of superstardom. It was still a time of innocence, when fame was new and wealth was starting to build up incredibly fast. It was also a time when they began merging into the proverbial hedonistic fastlane of sex, drugs and rock & roll, with no detours yet in the distance.

Elton John and Bernie in front of their private jet on a runway in California, during the 1974 U.S. tour. Behind them are the 35 musicians, roadies and others who accompanied the tour.
(Photo by Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images/Getty Images)

I asked Bernie to recount that album and he revealed his own personal thoughts on the classic album that has become synonymous with the career of Elton John and Bernie Taupin.

“I think the reason that Yellow Brick Road stands out is because it’s that sort of album that everybody claims to be a classic,” he stated, “which I don’t necessarily agree with. If people were to ask me to name my favorite Elton John album, I don’t necessarily think that it would be Yellow Brick Road, although it’s a very good album.

“I wrote most of the lyrics for that album within about a week, and while the band would be eating breakfast, Elton would take a lyric and write the song and they’d go in and record it. As soon as they finished, Elton would find another one, and that’s the way we did it.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

“What happened with that album was that it was our intention to record it in Jamica, in Kingston, at Byron Lee’s studio, because the Rolling Stones had just been there and done Goat’s Head Soup. And they said, ‘Go down there, go down there and do it,’ not telling us the nightmares they had making the record over there, and that they had just managed to make it there.

“So we went down there thinking that it was going to be a great atmosphere, and the thing turned into an absolute nightmare. The studio was a joke. We couldn’t make anything work, and it was surrounded by guards with machine guns keeping people out, which is not the best atmosphere to work in. And the locals for some reason just didn’t like outsiders, and it was just a very intense experience and not a good working environment.

“In the end, we said, ‘We cannot work here,’ because our original intention was to do the writing for the album there, but we didn’t get anything done. So Elton and I basically fled, and we went back to New York and reassessed the situation, and we decided to go back to the Chateau in France, where we had done the previous couple of albums.”

Once they were back in France, they were under the gun to get some material together after the Jamaica debacle. “So we went back there and that’s when we realized that we had no songs,” he said, with a laugh. “So we sat down and started writing and the band came over. I wrote a few things, and for some reason it all just fell out.

“I wrote most of the lyrics for that album within about a week, and while the band would be eating breakfast, Elton would take a lyric and write the song and they’d go in and record it. As soon as they finished, Elton would find another one, and that’s the way we did it.

“I don’t remember how long it took us to write the songs for that album. It’s probably all been lost in myth and fable,” he jokes. “Over the years, I probably said that we wrote all those songs in a day or something. I really don’t remember how long it took us, but it went really fast.”

With their little Motown hit factory cranking out songs at a feverish pace, they began to think about the possibility of making it a double-album. “We just kept recording,” Taupin recalled, “and then suddenly we realized, ‘Shit we’ve got like 20 songs here, and they’re all pretty strong.’ [Producer] Gus Dudgeon did a great job putting that album together, threading all the songs and making that running order work the way it does.”

Fantastic the Feedback

Looking in the rearview mirror today, it’s difficult to really explain the mass popularity of Elton John between 1973-75. While free-form radio on the FM side of the dial was playing the progressive rock of “Funeral For a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding,” “Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting,” “Grey Seal” and others, the AM fans were pushing songs like “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” and “Bennie and the Jets” to the top of the charts.

Sure-fire hit singles like “Candle in the Wind” and “Harmony” from their double-album extravaganza never even got a chance to be released since Elton and Bernie had already finished the follow-up album Caribou within six months. And just like that, two more EJ/BT classics “The Bitch is Back” and “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me” were shooting up the charts.

And then in January 1975, Elton’s cover of The Beatles’ classic “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” (featuring John Lennon on guitar and backing vocals) topped the charts, only to be replaced at Number One by Bernie and Elton’s single “Philadelphia Freedom” weeks later.

You literally could not listen to a radio in America for more than 30 minutes without hearing an Elton John song. And after Caribou topped the charts, in May of 1975 came Bernie and Elton’s autobiographical masterpiece Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy. The album was promoted for months prior to its release, including a television commercial which was unheard of at the time.

The buzz was so big that the album became the first one in history to enter the charts at Number One, selling 500,000 copies in pre-orders alone. Elton and Bernie were at their zenith of popularity. It was something that only four lads from Liverpool could relate to. In fact, Bernie and Elton’s friend John Lennon was so amazed at how much airplay their songs were getting at the time that he joked: “If you die, I’m throwing my fuckin’ radio out the window.”

The sterling autobiographical album showed Bernie’s lyricism at its finest as he detailed the lives of the two songwriters from their early childhood to before they recorded their first album in 1969. Bernie and Elton still speak fondly of the album to this day. (In 2006, Bernie and Elton wrote the long-awaited sequel The Captain and the Kid, which begins right where Captain Fantastic left off. It is a brilliant musical journey thru their incredible career from the ’70s thru the ’80s, ’90s and 2000s. Read my detailed analysis of the album here https://rokritr.com/2019/06/07/the-captain-and-the-kid-the-real-rocketman/)

The opening title track that introduces Elton as Captain Fantastic and Bernie, the country boy, as The Brown Dirt Cowboy, and their love of music and drive to succeed.

“I love the Captain Fantastic album,” Bernie says warmly. “I think, lyrically, the Captain Fantastic album is one of our finest. I mean those songs were written all about us from the time we first met up until our first album together. It was written from my standpoint and from his, although I was putting the words in his mouth.”

All the songs illustrate their lonely childhoods, their early musical failures, survival, and their love for one another. The classic single from the album “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” was about Elton’s first suicide attempt after he broke off an early wedding engagement to a domineering woman.

“Rock of the Westies”

Riding high, figuratively and literally, in April of 1975, longtime drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray were unceremoniously fired. It was caviler treatment to the two musicians who had been with Elton since his legendary shows at The Troubadour in 1970.

Their replacements—drummer Roger Pope, who had worked with Elton going back to his Empty Sky album, and bassist Kenny Passarelli—were joined by keyboardist James Newton-Howard and another longtime Elton ally, guitarist Caleb Quaye. Previous band members guitarist Davey Johnstone and percussionist Ray Cooper remained.

The new outfit would record the Rock of the Westies album in the summer of that year, resulting in one more chart-topping album and single in “Island Girl.” It would prove to be the hardest rockin’ album of the songwriting duo’s career.

Bernie recalled that period of time in the mountains of Colorado at the Caribou Studios where they had recorded the previous two Number One albums: Rock of the Westies is one of my favorite albums. I just love that record,” Bernie said without hesitation. “I think we really achieved what we wanted to do at the time. It was an interesting period of time because Nigel and Dee had exited. I don’t think there was any animosity. Well, there might have been at the time. Unfortunately that period of time is a little foggy,” he continued with a laugh, “because we were going through a period where we were not really on the ball.”

“We wanted to put a rock & roll band together, and it was basically a fucked-up band. We were all at the highpoint there of abusing ourselves to the max. It was Jack Daniels and lines on the console.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

It would also prove to be a time when the booze and drugs had become part of the recording process, as Bernie candidly explained: “We wanted to put a rock & roll band together, and that’s what we did. We went to Caribou Studios in the Rockies [Colorado]. It was a good place, it was a funky place, and it was basically a fucked-up band. We were all at the highpoint there of abusing ourselves to the max. It was Jack Daniels and lines on the console, and somehow we got it done.

“I don’t remember anything about the sessions, and I don’t think anybody in that band will remember them either, but for some reason it paid off. Luckily, we’re all still alive to tell the tale. It wasn’t glamorous by any means; it was a rough period.”

https://youtu.be/IWFL_FJss2M

Top of the World

In three-and-a-half years between May of 1972 and October of 1975, Elton and Bernie had a record-breaking SEVEN consecutive Number One albums; a feat only matched by The Beatles, who did it between 1964-67. To put this into proper perspective, it took the Rolling Stones TEN YEARS to pull off seven straight chart-topping albums.

As for more recent artists who have managed to hit that plateau, it would take Jay-Z nine years to accomplish it, Kanye West took 13 Years and the Dave Matthews Band would take 20.

Add to the fact that Elton’s 1975 tour included his career-cementing two concerts at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, and it was clear beneath all the drugs and drink that something would have to give.

“At that point in time, Elton John farting would have sold, and that’s intense pressure to be under because you suddenly realize that there’s no other place to go but down.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

Bernie explained his frame of mind during that heady era by saying that the realization that their unmatched success would have to end at some point led to him finding comfort in the drug abusing whirlpool that had become their life. “We had seven consecutive Number One albums. In fact, the last two albums—Captain Fantastic and Rock of the Westies—had entered the charts at Number One, which no one had ever done before. And, again, you can’t go straight to anywhere else, except down.

Bernie sharing drinks with Queen’s Freddie Mercury at a post-concert party in Las Vegas.
(Photo by Brad Elterman/FilmMagic)

“At that point in time, Elton John farting would have sold, and that’s intense pressure to be under because you suddenly realize that there’s no other place to go but down. You know that every album you do from now on is not going to go to Number One. And I think that’s why the Blue Moves album was so introspective.”

“Blues Moves”

[It wasn’t just the professional pressure that was impacting Bernie at the time of the Blue Moves album in 1976. His marriage to Maxine—the L.A. Lady and seamstress for the band that he wrote about in ‘Tiny Dancer’ only five years before—was coming to an end. Infidelities on both sides played a part in their impending divorce, including her affair with Bernie’s closest friend in the band, bassist Kenny Passarelli.

The song, “Between Seventeen and Twenty,” which was the age of Maxine and Bernie when they first met is an honest portrait about a young married couple who had grown apart. As well as a reference to her affair with Bernie’s close friend, bassist Kenny Passarelli.
Bernie and his first wife, Maxine, at their wedding in 1971. Elton, dressed in his modest way, served as Bernie’s best man. By 1976, the marriage was coming to an end.

The duo’s second double-album in three years did manage to get to #3, and included their Top Ten hit, “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word,” but it broke their streak of seven Number One albums in a row. Bernie’s lyrics, which had always touched on darker themes, this time around were even more morose than usual and filled with disillusionment and regret, not to mention a few songs about suicide.

“I think the Blue Moves album is really one of our most underrated albums, because it was really an exercise in saying, ‘Here it is, this is us, and this could be it,’ and it could have been it. After the Blue Moves album, I had to get away because I think we were all killing ourselves.”

An outtake from the Blue Moves material. This is a personal favorite of mine when it comes to Bernie’s lyrics. A powerful testament to the end of a relationship.

The Split

It was at this time that Bernie found himself crawling out of the “Crazy Water” that was engulfing him. “After the Blue Moves album, I went and lived in Mexico for like six months, and went through some changes,” he said. “I’m not going to go into that because it’s boring to hear ‘drying out’ stories. But after that album, I said, ‘That’s it, I’ve got to get away from this for a while.’ And, at that point, I really didn’t know if I’d be able to do it again.

“That’s where the separation between Elton and I came for a little while,” he continued. “But everybody seems to think that we fell out and we weren’t going to ever work together again. It wasn’t that. We never fell out. I think we just needed to get away from it for a while.”

On 2006’s autobiographical album The Captain and the Kid, Bernie looked back at the time in 1976 when he and Elton needed to take a break after unparalleled fame took over their lives.

Alice Cooper

Following the professional split between Elton and Bernie, Elton would work with lyricist Gary Osborne on his rather bland album A Single Man, while Bernie would surprisingly team up with shock-rocker Alice Cooper on 1978’s concept album about getting clean and sober, From the Inside. But what seemed surprising at first glance wasn’t since the Cooper and Taupin team were close friends outside their professional careers.

“Alice had always been a friend of mine,” Bernie explained. “I think that when you’re in a situation like I was in, you have to find a crutch who’s in the same sort of condition or the same state that you are. Everybody’s familiar with Alice’s problems and I guess I didn’t help him [laughs].

“During that period Alice and I were inseparable. Alice was my best friend. After the Elton thing, Alice and I were basically living together up in his house. It was a messed up, fucked up time.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)
Bernie and Alice Cooper during the recording of From the Inside in 1978 and still friends pictured at a 2006 charity event.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbYOxN8B4-c

“During that period Alice and I were inseparable. Alice was my best friend. After the Elton thing, Alice and I were basically living together up in his house. It was a messed up, fucked up time. We just figured that we’d try to do this thing together and we had always threatened to do a project together. It was just one of those things that fell together at the time.

“Like I said, I needed a crutch. Alice had sort of dried out at the time, and I think I was sort of going through the motions, not very well. But we spent so much time together that making that album was just a natural extension of our relationship.”

The album did include the hit single, “How You Gonna See Me Now” and a treasure trove of rockers. When prompted because of my love for the album, Bernie said: “Looking back on it, it was an interesting album. Yeah, there’s some good stuff on it. It was an interesting process, because it was two lyricists working together, which is very odd. But it’s interesting now, looking back, because I can see my lines and I can see his.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7GN5fOImg8

“There were things where I had complete lyrics and he would take little pieces out and put pieces of his own in there, but, yeah, it was an interesting project. And aside from my own personal projects and a few songs that I’ve written here and there with other people, as a collaboration in its entirety that album is the only thing I’ve done outside of Elton’s stuff.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDg0zL1IpS0
In this rare video, Bernie and Alice are working with composer Bruce Roberts on the darkly comedic and twisted ballad of two killers in love “Millie and Billie,” which Bernie quips is the result of “the meeting of three sick minds.”

First Steps Back Together

While Elton would continue to work with other lyricists for the next several years, following 1978’s A Single Man and his disastrous 1979 disco album Victim of Love, he did reach out to Bernie while writing for his next album 21 at 33, which would be his first album of the ’80s and the first hint at recapturing a bit of the ’70s magic.

“The first song we wrote again together was a song called ‘Two Rooms At the End of the World,’ which was about coming back together. There’s another song on there called ‘White Lady, White Powder,’ which speaks for itself.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

The three songs that Bernie would write for that album were also three autobiographical songs detailing where they’d been and a feeling that they would be there again. “The first song we wrote again together was a song called ‘Two Rooms At the End of the World,’ which was about coming back together. There’s another song on there called ‘White Lady, White Powder,’ which speaks for itself,” he says with a laugh. “They were all exorcism songs, like ‘Chasing the Crown.’

“They were songs saying, ‘Yeah, we’ve been there, now let’s get it back together.’ I think those three songs were all about getting back together. Unfortunately, with that album which was 21 at 33, those three songs were mixed in with a lot of substandard material and because of that I think a lot of people haven’t gotten to hear those songs, and they’ve gotten lost.

“It bothers me that people have become so obsessed with the Yellow Brick Road period. I know it was a good period and a lot of those early songs were good, but there’s a lot of really great songs and interesting songs that have gotten lost in the rebirth. Things like ‘Two Rooms,’ which is a really good song. It’s an interesting song. A lot of the material of the later period, which are some of the best songs we’ve ever written, are songs that a lot of people haven’t heard.”

The Full Reunion

While Elton and Bernie would collaborate on a handful of songs over the next few albums, including the previously mentioned hit ode to the memory of John Lennon, “Empty Garden,” it wasn’t until the late summer of 1982 that the two songwriters would be working together as they did in the beginning… and have been the only songwriters on all of Elton’s 14 studio albums from 1983’s Too Low For Zero through their most recent one, Wonderful Crazy Night in 2016.

“Looking Up” from Elton and Bernie’s most recent album, 2016’s Wonderful Crazy Night.

Their first full reunion, which took place for 1983’s Too Low For Zero also featured the return of the original band of Nigel Olsson, Dee Murray and Davey Johnstone. The classic Elton John sound was back and the impact was immediate. Their new anthem “I’m Still Standing” and Bernie’s beautiful ode to his second wife, Toni Russo, sister of actress Rene Russo, “I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues” were monster hits on both radio and the new video world of MTV. Elton and Bernie were back!

Asked if this was a conscious attempt to recapture the glory days, Taupin replied: “I guess so. Too Low For Zero was the first album since Blue Moves where we wrote everything together. Before that, it had been a couple of songs here and there. Prior to that, we were both in the wasteland playing with other projects, and neither of us too successfully.

“We both knew that we wanted to work together again but we had to wait until it just fell into place. We knew that when the time was right it would just happen. Like everything else in our careers, we don’t pressure it. We just allow time to elapse until things fall into place, and that’s how it happened with the Too Low For Zero album. And it worked. It was a very successful album. I like that album.”

The magical reunion of Bernie and the original band continued the following year with the release of Breaking Hearts, featuring further hits “Sad Songs (Say So Much),” “In Neon” and “Who Wears These Shoes.”

“Actually, Breaking Hearts, the album after that, is really one of my favorite albums,” Taupin notes. “I think it’s my favorite album of that particular period, though Too Low’s got some very good songs on it.”

More Chart-Toppers

What’s little known by many fans of ’80s music is that two of that decade’s biggest hits were penned by Taupin, and they had nothing to do with Elton. Taupin had also begun working with composer/singer-songwriter Martin Page during this era.

Two of their songs went to Number One in a span of only four months! First came the Starship’s “We Built This City,” a song Bernie had written about the clubs in Los Angeles no longer supporting live bands and becoming dance clubs instead. It was a dark-edge look at how corporations were destroying the live music scene in the early ’80s. Martin Page wrote the music and recorded a demo.

The demo made its way to Starship, and their producer Peter Wolf (not the J. Geils Band lead singer), who played up the “we built this city” line with repetition. The cheesy video helped propel the song to the top of the charts.

Taupin and Page also wrote a song, “These Dreams,” specifically for Stevie Nicks who was enjoying her solo stardom, but the Fleetwood Mac frontwoman turned the song down. Bernie’s lyrics perfectly captured the aura of Stevie, but it was not to be so the song was shopped elsewhere and eventually recorded by the rock band Heart. The result was Bernie’s second chart-topping hit in less than four months.

Bernie with Nancy and Ann Wilson of Heart. Ironically it was guitarist Nancy who sang the 1985 Number One hit, “These Dreams,” which Bernie had originally written for Stevie Nicks.

In spite of all his successes, Bernie still doesn’t think of himself as a songwriter per se, saying, “There have been periods of time where I’ve been here and Elton’s been in England, and I’ve mailed him lyrics or we get together and I hand him things and go away. We have never, ever sat down side-by-side.

“That’s what songwriters do, and the last thing I ever consider myself to be is a songwriter. I know that sounds totally ridiculous, but I’m not really a songwriter in the textbook sense.

“Songwriters are people out there who sit in their little studios and crank out songs. I can’t do that; it bores the shit out of me. That’s why I don’t write much with other people. I do what I do in a very bizarre way, and I have my own terms and rules.”

New Directions

After the huge successes of Too Low For Zero and Breaking Hearts, as well as a massively successful world tour, Elton once again dropped his rhythm section of Olsson and Murray and moved into a soul and synth direction with his next two albums. Along for the ride was original producer Gus Dudgeon. The results were a mixed bag.

“Well, Ice on Fire was a slicker album because that was produced by Gus Dudgeon,” Bernie said, “while Too Low For Zero and Breaking Hearts were produced by Chris Thomas, who is far more of an edge-producer. Not to put Gus Dudgeon down, but I think Gus Dudgeon worked for his time. I think Ice on Fire was a little overly produced and a little too slick for my liking.”

Although the 1985 album did include another Top Ten hit, “Nikita,” and the Top 20 dance smash, “Wrap Her Up.”

The follow-up album in 1986, Leather Jackets, however would become one of Elton and Bernie’s worst-selling albums, even though it contains one of Bernie’s personally favorite songs.

“There’s a song on that album called ‘Hoop of Fire’ that is one of my favorite songs. I tried to get Roy Orbison to record it because I think he would have killed that song. We’ve also tried to get Eric Clapton to do it. I’d love to see somebody else do that songs because I honestly think it’s one of the best songs we’ve ever written.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

“And the next album, Leather Jackets, absolutely died a death, even though I think there are a couple of tremendous songs on it that have been lost. I must admit that I think Gus just produced that album into the ground and just spent way too much time with it. It should have been a much edgier album, and it’s a shame that album has gotten lost because it has some very good songs on it.

“There’s a song on that album called ‘Hoop of Fire’ that is one of my favorite songs. I tried to get Roy Orbison to record it because I think he would have killed that song. We’ve also tried to get Eric Clapton to do it. I’d love to see somebody else do that songs because I honestly think it’s one of the best songs we’ve ever written.”

“Sleeping With the Past”

At the time of our interview in 1989, Elton and Bernie had just released their excellent album, Sleeping With the Past. Bernie’s love for their latest effort was understandable because it has gone on to become, arguably, the best album of the decade and one of the finest of their storied career. In fact, it is the best-selling album of their career in the U.K., and featured their first Number One single in their home country.

“My lyrics have had much more structure over the past ten years, and I think that has helped to make the songs better,” Taupin maintained. “People get trapped in nostalgia and will argue that the old songs are our best, but I think as songwriters we’re better than we’ve ever been, and I think this new album [1989’s Sleeping With the Past] proves that. I think these are the strongest, most uniform songs we’ve ever written.”

“The one thing I won’t do is live in the past. We’re not out to peddle nostalgia. I refuse to do that. If I honestly don’t feel that what I’m doing today isn’t the best work I’ve ever done, then I’m out of here. I wouldn’t want to do it anymore.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

Oddly enough, much of this change has to do with the fact that Bernie has taken to writing his lyrics with a guitar at hand. “Now when I write, I usually write with a guitar and just find chords. I don’t play guitar very well, I just know three chords but that’s enough to write a great song, just ask Leonard Cohen. But using a guitar just gives me a formula or a meter or a basis for a structure, so I don’t ramble on anymore.

“I’m sure some people will argue with that and say, ‘Yeah, but I like Yellow Brick Road and all those old songs,’ but I can’t do that. The one thing I won’t do is live in the past. We’re not out to peddle nostalgia. I refuse to do that. If I honestly don’t feel that what I’m doing today isn’t the best work I’ve ever done, then I’m out of here. I wouldn’t want to do it anymore.

“A lot of our recent albums have been fairly inconsistent,” he says candidly. “I wasn’t particularly happy with the last album [1988’s Reg Strikes Back], although it had its moments.”

The monster hit from 1988’s inconsistent album, Reg Strikes Back.

“I just feel that over the last few years, our albums haven’t really had a cohesiveness; they’ve tended to confuse people because the musical styles and song structures have been so conflicting that they go up and down, up and down. I know that’s a salute to our diversity but I also think it confuses people.”

An R&B Salute

“Before we went into the studio to make this album, I said to Elton, ‘Listen, we can’t make another album where people are going to say it’s just another Elton John album.’ I mean, we’re up to like 30 albums now, and I said that we had to get a theme or a springboard of what we’re going to do.

“I said that we have to sit down and decide what we want to make, and make a cohesive album with a collection of songs that sound like they all fit together. So we came up with the idea of going back and listening to the songs that inspired us when we first started writing songs, the time when R&B records were really great—the Chess days, the Stax records, and when Motown was at its peak.

“You know, the real glory days with people like Otis Redding, Sam & Dave, the Four Tops, the Supremes, Jackie Wilson, Lee Dorsey and Ray Charles. Those were the records that really got us off. So we decided to make an album that was a salute to those people and those songs. So I started dragging out all these old records and listening to them to get a feel, and we decided to basically make a white-soul album for the late ‘80s, and I think that’s what we’ve done.”

Club at the End of the Street

“What I would do is I’d take a song like a Drifters’ song and I’d try to write a Drifters’ type of lyric. There’s a song on the album called ‘Club at the End of the Street,’ which is probably the straightest emulation of the one of those songs.

“When you hear it, it has the feel of a song like ‘Under the Boardwalk.’ It’s a real Drifters-style song, and it might be the second single. So what I would do is I’d make notes at the bottom of the lyric sheet, like, ‘Think Drifters, think this or think that.’”

Healing Hands

“They’re not a pinch of a song though,” the lyricist makes clear. “If you hear the first single, ‘Healing Hands,’ it could be the Four Tops because it’s kind of got a ‘Reach Out, I’ll Be There’ feel to it lyrically. They’re a pat-on-the-back; they’re not rip-offs. Whether it’s the best choice as the first single, I don’t know, but it seemed to be the most anthemic.”

“I think when Billy Joel did it with the music of that particular era that he did [1983’s An Innocent Man], and he did it well, too, I think, but his was a more direct emulation of the sound. Our album is a salute. It’s all inspired, and it says that on the album, there’s a little thing on there that says, ‘These songs were inspired by the soul pioneers of the ‘60s and ‘70s, whose music meant so much to us.’

“Due to that it’s really given the album a cohesiveness. It’s not a concept album, but there’s a concept in the ideas. More than any other record we’ve made, like with Tumbleweed Connection, this sounds like an album. It sounds like it all belongs together and I’m really, really proud of that.

“We worked really hard on this record, and we worked hand-in-hand on this one, and I think it shows our songwriting at our very best. I think it’s the strongest album we’ve ever made. I won’t say it’s the best, because people will argue with that, but I certainly think it’s the strongest.”

Sacrifice

“My favorite song at the moment is a song on the new album called ‘Sacrifice,’ which has a simple lyric. But it’s an intelligent adult lyric. It’s basically about the rigors of adult love, and it’s a million miles away from ‘Your Song.’

“Elton came up with a brilliant melody, and his performance on it gives it a lot of integrity and meaning. It’s not a surface song, and I think you’ll probably see that one in the coming months become a big, big hit.”

Sure enough, “Sacrifice” would became a Top 20 hit in America and would also become Elton and Bernie’s first ever Number One single in England, after nine chart-toppers in the U.S.

Trapped By Their Past

When it comes to creating new material, veteran artists would find it tough to get their latest songs on the radio in the late ’80s as Corporate America was creating more classic rock stations and focusing on promoting nostalgia versus new music.

“Who wants to hear ‘Funeral For a Friend’ every fucking day of their life. More than anything, I want the songs I’m writing now to be on the radio. If there’s a spot there, I’m much rather have it be one of my new ones, not because I’m trying to sell my new material but because I think it’s equally viable.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

Bernie agreed with my assessment, saying: “I never ever listen to the radio. It’s just not something I do, because I figure why listen to the radio when I can play what I want to hear. And, quite honestly, radio today sucks. Radio needs a real good shake-up.

“Until they stop playing fucking ‘Stairway to Heaven,’ nothing’s going to change. And we’re just as much to blame. I mean who wants to hear ‘Funeral For a Friend’ every fucking day of their life [laughs].

“More than anything, I want the songs I’m writing now to be on the radio. If there’s a spot there, I’m much rather have it be one of my new ones, not because I’m trying to sell my new material but because I think it’s equally viable.

“The title of the new album is Sleeping With the Past, and the chorus is ‘don’t go sleeping with the past.’ In the context of the song, it doesn’t necessarily mean that, but I think it’s got a lot of connotations. It could be thought of as the album being based on old songs, and it could mean don’t go sleeping with the past.

“My motto has always been improve or die. I want to maintain my integrity and write the best material I’ve ever written, and I believe that I’m doing that. If I didn’t believe that, I’d just pack it up and write books.”

As for his hopes for their latest effort, the industry veteran is optimistic but knows that, ultimately, it’s all out of his hands. “I’m hoping that this album’s got legs because I think there are a lot of singles on this record. It’s tailor-made for radio without losing its integrity. Hopefully this album will be like a two-year album because I’d like to be in a situation where Elton and I don’t have to make another record for a few years.

“I think that would be great for us. So maybe this album will do that, and maybe it’ll fucking die overnight,” he says with knowing laughter. “Who knows? You can never tell in this business.”

“Dinosaurs”

Although at the time of our lengthy conversation in 1989 Taupin was still only 39 years old, in those days that was considered ancient in the music world. Of course today the legends are now touring in their Sixties and Seventies. Times have changed, but 30 years ago, ageism did exist in the music business.

“Music’s a healthy scene right now and sure I’d like to see some of the newer bands getting a chance on the radio,” Taupin concedes, “but, at the same time, it bothers me when younger groups say, ‘These old guys shouldn’t be out there, all these dinosaurs on the road.’ Hey, that’s their gig, that’s what they do.

“I don’t want some jerk from The Cure saying, ‘All these fucking dinosaurs should get out of the way. We’re out to change the world.’ Bullshit. There’s room for everybody.”

Bernie Taupin (Interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

“All these bands [reunite] and go out there. What are they supposed to do? That’s their job. It’s like being a carpenter or a plumber. If you play guitar, it shouldn’t be that you reach a certain age and you’re not allowed to do it anymore. There should be room for everybody. I mean, that’s their job.”

When I mention that I’d love to hear them tell the blues legend John Lee Hooker to hang it up, Taupin lets out a big laugh and says, “Exactly! I wouldn’t want to see these guys try and tell John Lee Hooker that. I mean whether you agree with the Doobie Brothers or The Who or Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Doodleflick getting back together, whether you like it or loathe it, there should be room for them to be allowed to do it.

“And if there are people that want to buy tickets to see them, good luck to them. But I don’t want some jerk from The Cure saying, ‘All these fucking dinosaurs should get out of the way. We’re out to change the world.’ Bullshit. There’s room for everybody. I think that’s just a case of sour grapes.”

https://youtu.be/e8RzSRIKGvs

Other Fav Songs

“Levon”

“It’s interesting, because I’m out on the road with Elton right now. It’s interesting when you hear some of those old songs onstage, because a lot of them sound much better, and I find myself re-evaluating them.

“Like the other night I was listening to Elton singing ‘Levon’ and I thought ‘God, that’s a really good song.’ It’s got that timeless quality to it. They sound much more powerful onstage now, because I guess technology has improved them. So every once in a while, I re-evaluate songs that I may have forgotten about.”

“Candle in the Wind”

“There are songs like ‘Candle in the Wind,’ which I think was a great marriage of a good lyric and a great melody. I mean, Elton’s probably the finest—his turn with a melodic phrase is unbeatable. When Elton’s on the ball, man, nobody writes melodies like Elton, and I’m proud to be the one who sticks the lyrics in there.”

Of course, the original version of “Candle in the Wind” on 1973’s classic double-album Goodbye Yellow Brick Road was Bernie’s tribute to Marilyn Monroe and the downside of fame. In 1987, the song became a Top Ten hit in America with the concert recording from the album Live in Australia.

Then in 1997, following the death of Princess Diana, Elton asked Bernie to rewrite the song for his late friend. The result was a solemn event seen around the globe and Bernie’s new lyrics turned “Candle in the Wind 1997” into the biggest selling single of all-time. A record that still stands today.

The John/Taupin Legacy

When it comes to incredible creative partnership of Elton John and Bernie Taupin, the wordsmith merely said: “I think the reason it’s worked so well so long is probably the old theory that opposites attract. I don’t think you can get two people who are more different than Elton and I. We don’t live in each other’s pockets. We’re like brothers, but we’re not best friends.

“It’s not a business relationship. We love each other dearly, but we have our own sets of friends and we’re both just very, very different people. I think the music is the thread that binds us together, and our love for it.

“We give each other enough space to conduct our lives, and we come together for the pure enjoyment of writing songs. I think if we were more intensely involved as people, and were the same kind of people, we’d drive each other nuts.

“I think that’s why it works, and we still enjoy what we do. We still get a buzz when we write a song. It’s never been a business. It’s always been a partnership that came together just for the love of creating good music.”

After Sting’s lengthy introduction at the Songwriters Hall of Fame, it’s nice to hear Elton and Bernie discuss their love of music and, more importantly, their love for each other.

Solo Projects

Over the years, Bernie has recorded a handful of his own albums. In 1971, he recorded a spoken word album, simply titled Taupin, with musical accompaniment from people like Elton’s guitarists Davey Johnstone and Caleb Quaye.

Bernie’s spoken word rendition of “The Greatest Discovery” that Elton recorded on his self-titled American debut a year earlier.

In 1980, Bernie made his singing debut on his album He Who Rides the Tiger. While the record didn’t find commercial success, there are some fantastic songs, such as the autobiographical epic “Approaching Armageddon” with the lines: Married young and with my guns / I blew her out of my life / It’s easy to hold on to time / But it’s hard to keep a wife

In 1987, Taupin returned with his third solo effort Tribe, which was definitely of the era of polished pop and videos, such as this one for “Friend of the Flag,” featuring his then-sister-in-law Rene Russo.

Also from the album was this suave video for “Citizen Jane.”

https://youtu.be/cUXQBorZil4

Farm Dogs

In 1996, I sat down with Bernie again to discuss his latest solo project, Farm Dogs, a roots-rock band that he formed with Rod Stewart’s former collaborators Jim Cregan and Robin LeMesurier, and Dennis Tufano, the former leader of the ’60s band The Buckinghams.

Farm Dogs rehearse in a dressing room before a television performance in 1996.
Pictured (L-R): Jim Cregan, Bernie Taupin and Robin LeMesurier.
(Photo By JOEY MCLEISTER/Star Tribune via Getty Images)

Their brilliant debut album, Last Stand in Open Country, echoes the rootsy vibe of Tumbleweed Connection and the best of The Band. From the haunting allure of “Barstool” and the shimmering sexuality of “Burn This Bed” to the anti-Hollywood acidic rant of “Ballad of Dennis Hopper and Harry Dean” and the title track that would later be recorded by Willie Nelson, the album made my published Top Ten Albums of 1996 list and continues to be a go-to listen nearly 25 years later.

The simmering heat of “Burn This Bed,” featuring Sheryl Crow on backing vocals.

The album was recorded at Taupin’s spacious ranch in Santa Ynez, California, amidst the lush green fields and rolling hills surrounding the home studio. The resulting album is a no-frills acoustic-based approach with illuminating songwriting at its best.

Sitting with Bernie and Cregan in an office in Beverly Hills, the quick wit and sarcasm that flew around the room non-stop perfectly dove-tails with the down-home, unpretentious vibe of their work. With his dog (and band mascot) sitting in his lap, Bernie explained: “The great thing about this band is that it’s a great leveler, because there’s no room for arrogance in this band.”

As Cregan nodded in silent agreement, Bernie continued “There are four fierce bullshit monitors in that room, and each of them has no fear of administering it. This band is notorious for massacring each other unmercifully, and for that reason it’s very healthy because it keeps everybody focused on a realistic path.”

Cregan chimes in: “If there were two harsh words spoken throughout the time we were making this album, that would be it.” Before pausing and adding with a laugh: “One of them would be ‘fuck’ and the other would be ‘you.'”

A brilliant Taupin lyric married to a haunting melody is a beautiful lost gem.

Recording at home helped the creativity flow without having to abide by time restrictions. “It really was like a summer boys’ camp,” Bernie explained. “Our wives or girlfriends were out in the city, so we all fended for ourselves, like Farm Dogs. The sessions were only regimented by our hangovers. It’s interesting what a couple of shots of tequila will inspire in one’s soul. I guess we’re the difference between the thinking man’s band and the drinking man’s band.”

The process of the writing was different for Taupin, who not only penned the lyrics but was also involved in the creation of the music. “It was four guys sitting in a circle; playing, singing and coming up with ideas. For me, the most exciting part of this project was being able to take my songwriting worth a step further. Aside from just being a man of words who has melodies in the back of his head, I was able to propel those melodies forward.”

A look at racial divides in this gripping tale of a mixed-race relationship.

Taupin takes a good-natured poke at his most famous songwriting partner when he says: “Not mentioning any names, but certain parties in my alternative career don’t tend to read the lyric before they write the melody, and we both laugh about that.”

His excitement at being involved throughout the evolution of the Farm Dogs material is infectious, as he continued: “Don’t get me wrong, because I’m fiercely proud of everything I’ve done in my career, outside of the ‘clinkers’ we all write at one time or another. It’s just that this project was a very special experience for me. It was one of the pleasures of my life to really see the melodic marriage of what I envisioned when I came up with the lyrics.”

The subtle power of “Pretty Bombs” featuring a harmony lead vocal by Cregan and Taupin.

In describing the band, Bernie says, “The special thing is to have four people working together who not only enjoy each other’s company, but who also admire each other musically and artistically. I think it’s something that all bands start out professing wanting to do, but it all seems to go to shit over the course of time.” He laughs and adds, “And it probably will with us, too.”

The title track that would later be recorded by Willie Nelson and Kid Rock in 2002.

The philosophy behind this special album is summed up by Taupin, who points to the epic title track and smiles confidently when he says: “The best part about artistic survival is using your talent to keep creating. That’s the whole gunfighter analogy of the story in ‘Last Stand,’ where when you get older there’s always someone coming up behind you to take your place, but you’ve still got bullets in your gun and you’re still dangerous. And I think we still have bullets in our guns, and believe me, we’re still dangerous.”

Farm Dogs did a small club tour in support of the album, including a memorable gig at The Troubadour where Elton launched his and Bernie’s career. Though acclaimed by critics, the album never scored big with mainstream radio although it did receive some solid rotation in smaller market Triple-A stations.

The band returned with a second album, Immigrant Sons, in 1998, which was a slightly more polished and more electric effort. Featuring more strong material, it didn’t quite capture the earlier magic of their debut. With a lack of airplay, the band dissolved after a brief tour.

I humbly recommend you pick up these two masterful Taupin albums.

Taupin the Visual Artist

At the dawn of the millennium, Bernie began his current career as a visual artist and his original artwork has been shown in galleries throughout North America over the past decade. Much of his work is of a patriotic nature for his adopted homeland of America through the use of the Stars & Stripes.

Thanks for more than 50 years of stories, Bernie.

“Rocketman” – Movie vs. Reality

“Rocketman” – Movie vs. Reality

By Steven P. Wheeler

When it comes to the life and career of legendary singer-songwriter Elton John, fantasy really is more reality than fiction and now Rocketman, a cinematic overview of his life has been brought to the Silver Screen in a glitzy over-the-top Broadway fashion as envisioned by director Dexter Fletcher, with Taron Egerton in the title role. This musical-meets-drama approach should surprise no one as Captain Fantastic himself has spent a half-a-century splashing himself across global concert stages and tattered tabloids with all the subtlety of a Fourth of July nighttime sky.

Fans of Elton and his longtime lyricist Bernie “The Brown Dirt Cowboy” Taupin (portrayed by Jamie Bell in the movie) may cringe at the historical goofs laid out in Fletcher’s film, but casual fans will pay no heed to such trivial outrage. Both factions can (and should) just sit back and enjoy this musical celebration of the former Reginald Dwight’s meteoric rise, hedonistic fall, and Phoenix-like rebirth that is at the center of this amazing life story.

Those of us who already know the real story will just have to let go of the factual inaccuracies and climb aboard for a roller coaster ride of emotions buoyed by the John/Taupin catalog of songs that is unparalleled in the annals of pop music, both in terms of quality, quantity and longevity.

As Elton recently wrote of his 52-year relationship with Taupin: “Outside of my husband and children, [Bernie is] the most important relationship in my life, we really love each other and the film captures that. There’s a scene in Rocketman where he comes to visit me in rehab, and that started me sobbing again. It happened just the same way in real life. Bernie was one of the people who tried to tell me to stop doing drugs. I wouldn’t listen until years later, but he stuck by me, he never gave up on me, and he was so relieved and happy when I finally got help.

“Bernie was apprehensive about the film. He read the script and he didn’t like the fantasy aspects of it. ‘But that didn’t happen, that’s not true’–very Bernie. Then he saw it and completely got it. I don’t think he actually burst into tears, but he was incredibly moved by it. He understood the point of it, which was to make something that was like my life: chaotic, funny, mad, horrible, brilliant and dark. It’s obviously not all true, but it’s the truth.”

For those who have seen Rocketman (and those who have yet to), here’s just some random fun to help celebrate the 50+ year career of Elton John and his lyrical partner Bernie Taupin, without whom Elton John would not exist.

Watch this historic video of the actual writing of a soon-to-be John/Taupin classic called “Tiny Dancer.” The song is about Bernie’s first wife, Maxine, a SoCal Valley girl (“L.A. Lady”), who he met during their first trip to America in 1970. Maxine did come up with some of Elton’s early stage costumes, hence the lyrical line “seamstress for the band.”

“I don’t think you can get two people who are more different than Elton and I. We’re like brothers and we love each other dearly, but we’re both just very, very different people. I think the music is the thread that binds us together, and our love for it. We give each other enough space to conduct our lives, and we come together for the pure enjoyment of writing songs.”
– Bernie Taupin on his 50-year songwriting partnership with Elton

(interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

The Legendary Troubadour Show

It was in late August of 1970 that an unknown singer-songwriter from England named Elton John made his American concert debut at the famous Troubadour club in Los Angeles for a six-night engagement. With nothing more than a piano and the brilliant rhythm section of drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray, the tiny, spectacled and bearded John would launch an unparalleled superstar career now entering its 50th year.

August 25, 1970 was an otherwise mundane Tuesday night in West Hollywood, but the opening night performance of Elton’s now-legendary stint at Troubadour would become the thing that dreams are made of. Promoting his self-titled debut album, which was a moody and heavily orchestrated album of ballads (“Your Song,” “Sixty Years On”), rockers (“Take Me to the Pilot,” “The Cage”) and epics (“The King Must Die”), no one could have predicted what happened next.

In truth, Elton fought against coming to America at this early juncture in his career as the album was not selling, but Russ Regan, the head of his stateside record label, Uni, would not take “no” for an answer. Reluctantly, Elton, Bernie, Nigel and Dee arrived in Los Angeles where none other than Neil Diamond introduced the fledgling talent to the packed club. Regan and publicist Norman Winter had turned up the hype machine and the celebrities were out in force, from Quincy Jones and Elton’s personal idol Leon Russell to Neil Young and members of the Beach Boys.

The word was out but no one really knew what to expect from this unknown talent and many felt this would be a subdued and introspective performance from a ballad-centric, piano-playing, singer-songwriter. Instead they were treated to a raucous performance that Rolling Stone would ultimately put in its list of “The Top 10 Most Important Concerts in Rock History.”

The bearded Elton John in action at his history-making opening night at the Troubadour. (Photo by Ed Caraeff)
(Photo by Andrew Kent)

“We just made a lot of noise [at that Troubadour show]. It was new. Elton was experimenting. Plus, [Nigel and I] had to make up for the lack of an orchestra [so prominent on the album]. We just socked it to them.”
– Dee Murray, bassist

(Rolling Stone interview, 1987)

The totally unique three-piece outfit of John, Olsson and Murray (yep, no guitarist in sight, and certainly no “Crocodile Rock” as depicted in Rocketman as that pop ditty wouldn’t be written until two years later) literally ripped the roof off the Troubadour and two days later, on August 27, Robert Hilburn of the L.A. Times literally declared Elton to be rock’s next superstar. Hilburn culminated his influential review with these words: “By the end of the evening, there was no question about John’s talent and potential. Tuesday night at the Troubadour was just the beginning. He’s going to be one of rock’s biggest and most important stars.”

By January of 1971, “Your Song” would crack the Top 10 and the rest is pop music history.

My Gift is My Song

Bernie Taupin’s orginal handwritten lyrics for the classic “Your Song.”

Released in 1970, “Your Song” was the song that turned the tide for the little-known songwriting duo of Reginald Dwight and Bernie Taupin, who had been failing at getting their songs covered by recording artists for two full years. That all changed when Reg Dwight the composer became Elton John the recording artist. Penned by the teenage poet at the breakfast table in Elton’s mother’s flat, where the two songwriters shared bunk beds, this was the first Top Ten hit for the John/Taupin team.

“‘Your Song’ has got to be one of the most naive and childish lyrics in the entire repertoire of music, but I think the reason it still stands up is because it was real at the time. I was 17 years old and it was coming from someone whose outlook on love or experience with love was totally new and naive. Now I could never write that song again or emulate it because the songs I write now that talk about love usually deal with broken marriages and where the children go [laughs]. You have to write from where you are at a particular point in time, and ‘Your Song’ is exactly where I was coming from back then.”
Bernie Taupin

(interview by Steven P. Wheeler)

Someone Saved My Life Tonight

While Rocketman points out Elton’s 1975 suicide attempt two days before the two biggest concerts of his career at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, the film doesn’t reference Elton’s first suicide attempt in 1968. This first one inspired Bernie to pen the lyrics of the 1975 hit, “Someone Saved My Life Tonight,” the epic cornerstone of the John/Taupin autobiographical chart-topping album, Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy.

This brilliant album detailed, in chronological order, the lives of the Pinner pianist and the Lincolnshire lyricist from their first meeting up until their little-known British debut album, Empty Sky, covering the years 1967-69. (Empty Sky wouldn’t be released in America until 1975 capitalizing on Elton’s fame at the time.) In 2006, Bernie and Elton released their phenomenal autobiographical follow-up, The Captain and the Kid, which covered their story from their arrival in the States in 1970 to the present day. Both albums are must-haves for John/Taupin fans and you can read a detailed song-by-song account of The Captain and the Kid here, which truly serves as the true musical bio of John and Taupin’s incredible life together. But I digress…

Made with only a passing reference in the film, which shows Bernie imploring the then-Reginald Dwight to break off his marriage engagement at a time when his musical career had yet to begin. Here’s the real story…

In 1968, struggling composer Reginald Dwight (the name Elton John or even the notion of becoming a performer were not even a thought at this point) and his lyrical partner Bernie Taupin were living together in the East End of London, along with not-yet-out-of-the-closet Reg’s fiance Linda Woodrow.

Linda Hannon (formerly Linda Woodrow, pictured in 2010) was the fiance of Reginald Dwight (aka Elton John) in 1968, before he reluctantly broke off the engagement shortly before the wedding on the advice of friends Bernie Taupin and Long John Baldry. A distraught Reginald attempted suicide right afterwards, which was chronicled in the 1975 hit, “Someone Saved My Life Tonight.”

Reg and Linda were almost two years into their relationship and only a few weeks from their marriage ceremony when Taupin and Reg’s mentor Long John Baldry (who is ridiculously excised from the entire film) went out drinking one fateful night. Taupin and Baldry were adamant in telling Dwight that he had to call off the marriage.

Baldry going so far as saying, “You’re more in love with Bernie than you are with this woman.” In Taupin’s lyrical recollection, Baldry is the life saving “Sugar Bear” made famous in the song. Elsewhere, Taupin is scathing in his lyrics towards Woodrow on behalf of his musical brother: “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”

Watch Elton’s phenomenal vocal performance of “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” in this stunning 1976 solo performance.

In terms of Elton’s first suicide attempt that followed this breakup, according to Taupin, it was more comical than anything else. Awakened by the smell of gas coming from the kitchen, Taupin assumed that someone had left the stove on. Upon examination, Taupin found his roommate with his head near the gas oven. Instead of panicking, Taupin laughed at the sight before him as Elton had not only carefully placed a fluffy pillow under his head for comfort, but he also left the windows open.

John & Taupin Split Up

While it’s true that Bernie Taupin and Elton John put their songwriting collaboration on hold following 1976’s Blue Moves album, the split only lasted one album, Elton’s uneventful A Single Man in 1978, in which Elton paired up with lyricist Gary Osborne. Taupin took that time to collaborate with his longtime friend Alice Cooper on 1978’s From the Inside, an excellent concept album dealing with drug abuse and rehab, which included the hit single “How You Gonna See Me Now.”

By the time of their hiatus, Elton and Bernie had released 14 albums(!) in only six years in order fulfill a backbreaking contract that called for two albums each and every year (not three as stated in the film). Between 1972-75, they would release seven consecutive #1 albums, and Elton and his band–guitarist Davey Johnstone, drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray–would embark on a non-stop touring schedule around the globe.

As Johnstone told me in discussing the height of Elton-mania back in 1995: “It was an extremely outrageous band. I have no idea how we survived. The funny thing is, Elton and the band had an image of making good music, so we never really had a reputation for being a hard-partying band. But in actual fact, it was completely nuts.”

It was amidst this madness that Taupin felt the need to pull himself out of the crazy water they were engulfed in. “That period of time is a little foggy,” he told me during one of our interviews. “We were at the high point there of abusing ourselves to the max. It was Jack Daniels and lines on the console.

“What was happening at that time, and probably the reason we were so screwed up, is that we had done everything,” the lyricist recalls. “There was no mountain to scale or to conquer anymore. We had filled the biggest stadiums. We had seven consecutive #1 albums and you know that every album you do from now on is not going to go to #1.

“At that point in time, Elton John farting would have sold,” Taupin says without a hint of a laugh, “and that’s intense pressure to be under because you suddenly realize that there’s no place to go, but down. And after the Blue Moves album in 1976, I had to get away. I moved to Mexico for six months to dry out, because I think we were all killing ourselves.”

Over the ensuing six years, Elton would include a handful of Taupin lyrics on each of his next three albums, choosing to still include words from other lyricists. But that all changed with 1983’s Too Low For Zero, the first album since 1976 to feature exclusively John/Taupin material throughout, including new classics “I’m Still Standing” and “I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues” which introduced Elton to the MTV generation. Since that reunion 35 years ago, Elton’s 15 official studio albums have featured only the words of Bernie Taupin.

Outside of his work with Elton, Taupin has released several solo albums, including the brilliant 1996 album, Last Stand in Open Country, with his band Farm Dogs. He also co-wrote such #1 hits as “These Dreams” (intended for Stevie Nicks, but recorded by Heart) and “We Built This City” for Starship. In 2003, Taupin’s “Mendicino County” won a Grammy for the duet by Willie Nelson and Leann Womack, and a few years later, Taupin picked up a Golden Globe for his lyrics to “A Love That Will Never Grow Old” from the film Brokeback Mountain.

The sublime “Barstool,” written and sung by Bernie Taupin with his band Farm Dogs.

“Rocketman” Nerd Patrol

As noted previously, Elton himself said of Rocketman: “It’s obviously not all true, but it’s the truth.” And here are just a handful of untruths that are littered throughout the film…

1. The Name Game

Early bandmates Elton Dean and Long John Baldry, from whom Reg Dwight created his soon-to-be-famous moniker Elton John.

Elton took his stage name from two early musical associates–saxophonist Elton Dean and renown British band leader Long John Baldry, with whom our unknown Reginald Dwight played keyboards for. He did not take the “John” from his future friend and Beatle John Lennon as insinuated in the film.

2) Songs Not Yet Written

Bernie Taupin and Reg Dwight in 1967. The two budding songwriters had been signed to a publishing deal with The Beatles’ publisher Dick James (right). Their job was to write songs for the likes of Tom Jones, Lulu and Engelbert Humperdink. There were no plans to ever be recording artists at that point in time.

When Elton auditions for a songwriting deal in 1967, he plays snippets of songs for the Beatles’ publisher Dick James, including “That’s Why They Call It the Blues,” which Bernie didn’t even write the lyrics for until 1983 for his second wife, Toni Russo (sister of actress Rene Russo). Great song, silly song placement. He also plays “Daniel” and “Sad Songs (Say So Much)” in this scene, years and even decades before they were written. These types of song placement will bother the nerd patrol, but not the casual fans.

3. Reg & Sheila

Elton posted this Happy Mother’s Day message to his mom, only months before her passing.

Elton’s mother Sheila is portrayed as uncaring and non-supportive of her son throughout the movie. In truth, the two were very close up until 2008 when Elton refused to speak to her any longer after she continued to have a friendship with Elton’s former manager/lover John Reid and Elton’s longtime personal assistant Bob Halley whom the star had severed ties with. Mother and son did not speak again for nearly a decade, reconciling at the time of her 90th birthday. Sheila passed away in 2017 at the age of 92.

4) Lovers, Associates & Truth

Elton’s fiery manager John Reid (pictured moments after run-in with a journalist in 1976). Reid and Elton were a couple between 1970-75. Following their personal split, their business relationship continued until 1998. A legal battle over money ended their association.

4) Elton’s firing of his hot-headed manager John Reid didn’t happen until 1998, a decade after he got sober in 1990. Reid, who was known–and arrested on occasion–for physical altercations and assaults with members of the press, is not known to have slapped Elton in the face as depicted in the movie. The real reason for the dissolution was over what Elton felt were financial improprieties, approximately 20 million pounds unaccounted for. In truth, Elton lost his virginity to Reid at the age of 23 and they would remain lovers until 1975, but their business relationship would last another 20 years. The ultimate court case was settled out of court between Elton and Reid, who have not spoken since. Despite the settlement, the judge admonished Elton for his insane spending habits; something that the film humorously notes is the one addiction Elton has yet to conquer.

Final Thoughts…

Despite the previously mentioned historical quibbles (and many others), Rocketman is a compelling cinematic hybrid of a colorful musical celebration and a dark and often bleak glimpse into one man’s soul. An uncensored and relentless portrait of one’s need for love, this engaging film is ultimately a tale of redemption and survival.

Fortunately for his fans, as the 72-year-old legend bids the concert stage goodbye on his current Farewell Tour, Elton John ultimately decided 29 years ago to change the trajectory of a tragic destiny and indeed found himself wishing to be living Sixty Years On.

The Captain and the Kid: The Real “Rocketman”

The Captain and the Kid: The Real “Rocketman”

By Steven P. Wheeler

In 2005, on the 30th anniversary of their first autobiographical album, Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, Elton John and Bernie Taupin decided to finish their story with the writing of The Captain And The Kid, which was released in 2006. This brilliant album is without a doubt a musical love letter from the self-described Tin Pan Alley Twins to their longtime fans. It was the third in their “draw-a-line-in-the-sand” trilogy following the solid, but over-hyped Songs From The West Coast and the equally strong but over-criticized Peachtree Road.

It’s funny that Elton would ever be upset over the commercial reaction—or lack thereof—to this highly personal album. Then again, it’s no more silly and ridiculous as Elton’s many bitchy rants over the years; especially in the wake of Bernie’s suggestion and Elton’s then-commitment to not worry about commercial success anymore, but to make albums that they, themselves, were proud of. 

It’s obvious and true that this is simply not an album for the masses or even for many of the newer generation of Elton fans, who weren’t there in the beginning of the John/Taupin saga, as they would have little or no reference points to Taupin’s excellent lyrics contained here (which are FILLED with winks and nods that only longtime fans would recognize). And also because this particular segment of their fan base had grown up with the musical duo and can directly relate to the then-current events that are littered throughout (Nixon-era America, the hedonistic openness of cocaine, drink and sex during the Seventies and Eighties, the initial AIDS scare, and so much more).

Even more important is how a new younger audience who may have jumped on the EJ train in the Eighties or after The Lion King success could ever truly relate to the experiences and sentiments that only those with 40+ years of life can truly understand so deeply and feel so impactfully. 

A day in the life of Bernie Taupin, the Brown Dirt Cowboy, at the time of the release of the album, The Captain and the Kid.

At its heart, The Captain And The Kid is a mature reflection of a time that will never come again. It’s a musical mirror of life for those whose own lives have been filled with touchdowns, failures, rejections and redemptions; and whose personal paths were spent speeding down open highways in their youth before realizing that these same roads are littered with detours, dead-ends, accidents, and the aftermath of personal tragedy. 

Eventually, you can pine for past days in hopes of regaining something you think you’ve lost, or, as Bernie so brilliantly notes in the epic title track: “You can’t go back, and if you try, you fail.” Truer words have never been written for those of a certain age.

What follows is an overload of trivial information, but for the few who haven’t heard this album (and hopefully some of you who have), you’ll find some of this information interesting enough to listen to it all with fresh ears and a fresh perspective……..

Like the songs from its predecessor, Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, these story-songs are indeed in chronological order and there are some beautiful moments, subtle tributes and references for longtime John/Taupin fans to find.

As most fans know, the original autobiographical album in 1975, Captain Fantastic, covered only a brief two-year period in the lives of Elton John and Bernie Taupin; from their initial meeting in 1967 through their staff songwriting failures right up to their recording of Empty Sky in 1969. What many don’t remember or never understood is that the entire Captain Fantastic album only touched on their lives BEFORE they achieved any success at all.

So, for the sequel—The Captain And The Kid—Bernie’s mission was to now cover 35 years (1970-2005) in a dozen or so songs. No easy feat, but he pulled it off masterfully; dropping in some wonderful imagery that takes those of us who were there right back to the beginning of the duo’s unparalleled journey. Here’s a track-by-track analysis for the nerds:

Postcards From Richard Nixon

Things kick right off with their first visit of the States in August of 1970 on the album’s opener. In fact, Bernie literally starts the tale with the songwriting duo (plus drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray) landing at Los Angeles International Airport and being greeted by a giant red London double-decker bus (with the huge banner on its side: “Elton John has arrived”), which would drive the jet-lagged English youth through the streets of Hollywood that they had always dreamed about. 

Within minutes of arriving in America, (left) a bearded Elton John, smiling Bernie Taupin, tall bassist Dee Murray and crouching drummer Nigel Olsson, outside LAX where they were put on a “big red bus,” a stunt from publicist Norman Winter. Elton was less than impressed and very embarrassed.

Literally, they didn’t even have a taste of California air before they were thrust for the very first time into the machine of big-time rock & roll!

They put us on a big red bus / Twin spirits soaking up a dream
Fuel to feed the press machine / After years that were long and lean


Incidentally, the notorious “red bus” incident was the brainchild of Elton’s early publicist/unapologetic extrovert (and a good friend and professional colleague of mine) Norman Winter. Elton hated that first American publicity stunt (as you can somewhat see by his less-than-apparent smile for the camera below….that’s Reg Dwight, the bearded chap standing on your far left, next to a 20-year-old Bernie Taupin). Elton, of course, played along and Norman never made any apologies for the stunt. And who could blame him, after all the publicity he mustered to make that week’s Troubadour stint one of the most legendary concert stands in rock history!

Within days, these unknowns played their very first concerts in America at the Troubadour. A seismic event that resulted in Elton being proclaimed “Rock’s Next Superstar” by Robert Hilburn in the Los Angeles Times after that now-legendary concert stint in West Hollywood.

Or as Bernie wrote later in “Postcards,” the naïve Brits had trouble believing the hype themselves: 
Neither of us understood the way things ticked in Hollywood…..And pretty soon we were “Where it’s at”……Or so the papers say

The Captain Fantastic album never had a chance to touch on this legendary turning point in Los Angeles, and so Bernie opens the sequel album by depicting how these shy young guys from England were literally overwhelmed by what they saw in the City Of Angels on that first visit: sunbathed beauties, a visit to Disneyland and just being in the land of one of Elton’s early heroes The Beach Boys, and quickly realized they were….. “finally on our way”

And the lyricist sums up that early period where the ideal marriage of youthful energy and sudden success are perfectly in sync, as in his metaphoric statement in this opening song’s final verse about this exploding fame and instantaneous future that was unveiled and tossed to these two musical brothers: 
And for you and me that speeding car is how it’s going to be
I see no brakes / just open road / and lots of gasoline

Just Like Noah’s Ark

The ensuing success that grew bigger and bigGER AND BIGGER STILL over the next five years is illustrated right away in the album’s second track. Taupin’s decision to put these two musical peas-in-a-pod in a whimsical rock & roll vehicle dubbed Noah’s Ark is just a brilliant touch. They were a pair; they were in this together: two of them against the world. 

We quickly see them forced to rub shoulders with sleazy record execs “chomping a big cigar” who were unknowingly insulting the still-in-the-closet piano pounder (“slapping backs and making cracks about the fags in the bar”), while cocaine-pushing radio deejays made all the usual Hollywood make-you-a-star promises (“you can put it out son, and we’ll all back it”). 

Later in this same song, we get a taste of the notorious and infamous groupies who prowled rock star haunts throughout the early-to-mid ‘70s (“the Cockettes and the ‘Casters”), and just how much temptation was being presented to these two young guys who were also being told they’re the greatest thing on earth. So even though Bernie found his first wife, Maxine—the L.A. Lady from “Tiny Dancer” fame—he is quick to note that during this time “for every Tiny Dancer, there’s a dog that’s had its day.” 

However, through that early stretch of stardom, the two did manage to keep their wits about them (at least for a while), because they had each other to keep themselves somewhat grounded amid the dizzying heights they were reaching in those lightning-fast first five years of stardom. 

“We’re not as dumb as we might look / You can’t keep us in the dark / With me and you, it’s two by two”

Wouldn’t Have It Any Other Way

By the time of the third song, the engine of stardom is firing on all cylinders, as Bernie chooses to move the proceedings to their other favorite American locale: New York City.

In this song, the decadence of their mid-70s heyday is beginning to pour through for the first time, as they seem to be slowly giving in to temptation. 
I’d wake with a stranger under the covers / Late in the day and longing for the night / Just like the snowfall there’s so many bodies, but somehow it feels so right

There’s also era-specific references about exactly where they stayed in the Big Apple, such as the 1972 murder site of mobster Joey Gallo and the mention of such then-trendy hotspots as Studio 54.

Despite their “top of the world, ma” fame, it was around the time of the famous two concerts at Dodger Stadium in 1975 that stardom was finally getting just too big to handle. Elton attempted suicide shortly before these iconic concerts and Bernie himself recalls being backstage and looking at the immense audience around the stadium and saying to himself that they had reached the pinnacle.

As Bernie told me during one of our interviews: “What was happening at that time, and probably the reason we were so screwed up, is that we had done everything. There was no mountain to scale or to conquer anymore. We had filled the biggest stadiums. We had seven consecutive #1 albums. At that point in time, Elton John farting would have sold, and that’s intense pressure to be under because you suddenly realize that there’s no place to go but down. We were all at the high-point there of abusing ourselves to the max. It was Jack Daniels and lines on the console. Luckily, we’re all still alive to tell the tale. And after the Blue Moves album in 1976, I had to get away. I moved to Mexico for six months to dry out, because I think we were all killing ourselves.”

Tinderbox

With the album’s fourth song—the excellent “Tinderbox”—we have entered the period of the post-Blue Moves period in 1976 and through the failed 1978 single, “Ego,” when the two realized the inevitable decline was not only creeping up on them, but had indeed arrived, or as Bernie writes:
We’d been running hot up until today / But a wind of change blew across our sales / We were coasting on a winning streak / We were kings until the power failed 
*note that “sales” is not a typo for “sails” but a very clever Taupin using the sailboat metaphor to note the reality of their loss of popularity and record “sales”

By the final verse, Bernie is addressing the duo’s short-lived split following Blue Moves, even mentioning his own personal move down south where he attempted to dry-out (“the sun descends down in Mexico”), while Elton was still in England living his extravagant life of indulgence (“while a fancy car back on Savile Row shows the price of fame leads to overkill”). 

It was obvious that the split between the two songwriters had to happen (“things are gonna have to change”) and finally both men realize they have to get away from each other, or as Taupin poetically says in the song:
Pressure’s gonna cook us if we don’t unlock it / Gun’s going off if we don’t uncock it / We’ve gotta climb out of the other one’s pocket / Or we’re gonna burn-out on this beautiful rocket

Across the River Thames

The proper placement for this excellent bonus track is right here. In this song—inexcusably omitted from the album proper—Bernie writes about Elton’s continued belief in himself during the duo’s separation through to their mega-successful reunion in the early Eighties, cementing their relationship up to the current day. And how these two still stood together after all this time, literally immovable like other London-based statues and images that never disappear: 
Nelson’s on his column / Ravens are in the Tower / Big Ben’s never lost his voice, chimes on every hour / And the fog rolls across the River Thames

The song addresses a slew of music trends that came and died, while these two remain alive and a musical constant in an industry bent on pushing something new as often as possible:

First comes the death of disco (“disco balls and spandex pants on questionable friends/Disco died, but the fog still rolled across the River Thames”)

Next comes Johnny Rotten and his punk ilk who very publicly decried Elton and his musical lineage (“Snarling they just came along and cut us to to the quick / Called us a bunch of dinosaurs and give us a load of stick / Told us that the times was changing and all good things must end / But I’m still standing and the fog still rolls across the River Thames”)

Then comes the MTV generation (“Hair got teased beyond belief”) while revolving bands like Spandau Ballet took turns being the top-charting one-hit wonder (“the new romantics claimed the throne and we were wondering when, but they lost their crown and the fog still rolled across the River Thames”).

Finally we hit the tabloid “rent-boy scandal” about Elton that hit at the time when their career was not exactly living up to their past (“Big bold letters screaming out a scandal in the house” and “careers going south” and how the tabloid media during the mid-80s fully believed that “the truth was meant to bend”).

And The House Fell Down

By the end of “Across The River Thames,” despite their renewed success, Elton had reached the point of no return in terms of his own personal demons, and it would all be laid out on this excellent track which takes us directly to the 1990s.

Elton takes a rollicking approach to the subject of his addictions and ultimate recovery that he has too often wrapped into a ballad. The juxtaposition of the lyrics and the music on “The House Fell Down” are as surprising—and as fulfilling—as he once did with “I Think I’m Gonna Kill Myself” back in the Honky Chateau days in 1972 and the resulting song is one of this album’s best.

This song is as straight-forward as any that Bernie has ever written and it’s powerful in its simplicity and could only have been written by someone who has danced endlessly with the Peruvian Devil himself: 
With a rolled up note I’m hovering on that line / Three days on a diet of cocaine and wind / And a little weed just to level me sometimes / So don’t knock on my door / Don’t try to call / I’m holed up in this room, talking to the wall / When you’re high as this, you think you know it all / When you’re this deep in, there’s no place else to fall

So by the end of the first-half of the album, this is what we’ve seen, heard and experienced:
– we’ve seen their arrival in the States in 1970
– we’ve seen the media call them the next big thing
– we’ve seen them achieve superstardom and battle temptation
– we’ve seen them split-up
– we’ve seen a whirlwind of musical trends (disco, punk new wave)
– we’ve seen them reunite and outlast those same musical trends
– we’ve seen them both succumb to their personal demons and address them by the early 90s

Blues Never Fade Away

And now we move on to the second leg of this unique musical journey… The second-half of the album changes narrative course for the first time, as the absolutely spell-binding “Blues Never Fade Away” is the first song on the album where we are now taking stock of the past. It’s an emotional and powerful look back at those who touched our lives but are no longer with us, and how fragile life can be. And how WE somehow survived the stupid risks we took and decisions we made, while others on the same trail are no longer with us. 

Taupin’s simple eternal question sums it all up for every one of us who has cheated death despite our often dumb choices: “And how did we get so lucky?” A haunting question that can never be answered, no matter how many times we pose it.

The chorus of this beautiful song is one of the best Taupin has ever written over the past 40-some years, and Elton’s vocal performance is stellar throughout: 
And how did we get so lucky?
Targets on the rifle range
Who makes the call and who gets to choose?
Who gets to win and who gets to lose?
It’s like a rolling dice in the belly of the blues
And blues never fade away


Incidentally, for the more curious-minded, here is the real story about those tragic figures that Bernie writes about in “Blues Never Fade Away”:
First verse is about an L.A. restaurant owner and close friend of Bernie’s who died of AIDS before there was much news about the disease.
Second verse is about a girl who was another close friend of Bernie’s who died of a brain aneurysm in a store on Hollywood Boulevard
Third verse is about Elton’s close friend Gianni Versace
And, of course, there is the small reference at the end of the song to the most famous of their late friends, in which Bernie writes, “I miss John Lennon’s laugh”

The Bridge

Next comes the solo piano ballad (and weak choice as a single) “The Bridge.” A pleasant enough song dealing with the theme of personal survival amidst the never-ending series of life choices we all have to make at one time or another. It’s about finding that spark of youthful enthusiasm during those times when you feel your age more than you should. 

Crossing that bridge rather than fading away is something we all come across in middle-age at some point; and finding yourself balanced on that often blurry line dividing personal contentment and restless acceptance. 

The song carries the powerful sentiment that a risk is worth the crossing of the bridge even if it results in momentary failure, while the retreat from the journey (the fading away) can only get easier and easier until your life itself becomes controlled by a “cruel tide” on which you ride.

Incidentally, Bernie was adamant that Elton record this song with the piano alone; no other instruments. Elton did this as a favor to his partner, adding only the haunting backing vocals. Unfortunately, this decision leaves the song much more bland than it could have with some instrumental support, especially since the playing by longtime bandmates Nigel Olsson, Davey Johnstone, and the rest of the crew is definitely the best this particular band has ever performed in the studio.

I Must Have Lost It On the Wind

Fortunately, things rebound very quickly with the album’s closing trilogy, beginning with the wistful “I Must Have Lost It On The Wind,” an honest assessment of our past loves, and the ultimate recognition of our own stubbornness and failings at the time. Bernie’s bitterness towards some of his three failed marriages can be heard in the truly moving chorus: 
From one, you learn something / Another you learn nothing / And there’s one who might teach you everything / But before I learned to listen / And if indeed someone said it / Then I guess I must have lost it on the wind

That bitterness is pointed outwards as well in this less-than-loving recollection:
One was just a trophy catch / And one was like a curse / Some would want to bleed you dry / Some might quench your thirst

And while each of his marriages resulted in some memorable songs for us, the reality was less successful, even though he says he thought each of them would last:
In warm seas I cast a line / And swore the heart I was reeling in was perfect at the time / You couldn’t tell me I was wrong / You couldn’t tell me anything / And if you did then I guess I must have lost it on the wind

The song’s title springs from Taupin’s love of an old cowboy cliché when a wrangler yells across a wide-open prairie to someone and the other person can’t hear what is being said, they’ll say, “Say it again, I lost it on the wind.” 

It’s a wonderful phrase that Taupin uses to describe those times in our lives when we refuse to listen to people who only have our best interests at heart. Incidentally, Bernie married Heather Kidd in 2004 and they have two children, so the fourth time has been the charm for the Brown Dirt Cowboy.

Old ’67

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DtQWJvkNYaA

The next song, “Old ’67” (probably my personal favorites on the album), takes place in the present day and brings us up to date. It’s a wonderful melancholy story about when Bernie and Elton got together at Elton’s home in France to discuss this new album. They both admit that haven’t had such a get-together in many years: just the two of them together. The town mouse and country mouse together by themselves again. 

The result of that meeting is just a goosebump-inducing song for me, as one who loves to occasionally reminisce with longtime friends—some that have been with me through thick and thin for up to 30 years or more. It’s a fulfilling experience to share with those who knew you when you had dreams that didn’t come true while other dreams did, and still other events exceeded your early naïve dreams. That can’t be shared as intently with those who weren’t with you all those years ago.

And Bernie couldn’t have painted this get-together of two lifelong friends any better than if he had a canvas and a brush. You can almost hear the quiet laughter and the knowing nods of recognition between these two friends as they “shoot the breeze” a full 40 years after they first met. 

Back then they were kids; just two young, struggling artists in search of a dream, making sacrifices, no money for heat or food; just an unbridled love of achieving something special together. 

Now, here they are, two grown men in the late stages of life, and you can literally hear the conversation. “Can’t believe we’re sitting in this mansion in France, remember when we lived on Oxford Street, we’ve come a long way” or just listen to Elton sing Bernie’s lyrical transcript:
Don’t often do this / We never really get the chance / Nearly froze to death on Oxford Street / Now we’re sitting in the South of France / Talking through the evening / It’s good to shoot the breeze / Just you and me on a balcony / And cicadas singing in the trees

Then a clink of the glasses for the moving chorus where they rejoice in the memory of the year they met, laugh at the years gone by, and ultimately celebrate the happiness of being the age they are today:
Old ‘67 what a time it was / What a time of innocence / What a time we’ve lost / Raise a glass and have a laugh / Have a laugh or two / Here’s to old ‘67 / And an Older Me and You

Of special note on this special song is Bernie’s wink and nod of ending the song with the first line from their first hit, “Your Song.” A great idea for such a moving song that can’t help bring a smile to the face of all longtime fans. Beautiful.

The Captain and the Kid

Finally we reach the end with the title track, the perfect final chapter to how this lengthy odyssey began with the very first musical chapter, the song “Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy.” 

Here’s Bernie the “tumbleweed” and Elton living life “on a yellow brick road.” There’s Elton the “urban soul in a fine silk suit” and Bernie’s “heart out west in a Wrangler shirt.” The shy poet from Lincolnshire who turned into “the Brown Dirt Cowboy” and the pub pianist from Northwood Hills who turned “into a Rocket Man.”

Once again, Bernie comes up with a chorus that is an amazing piece of writing about two men who kept their artistic integrity intact more often than not. Two men who never tried to be more than they were, and—unlike most of their contemporaries—they also always looked to the future, steadfastly refusing to rest on their considerable laurels or live in the past:
And you can’t go back and if you try it fails / Looking up ahead I see a rusty nail / A sign hanging from it, saying ‘Truth For Sale’ / And that’s what we did / No lies at all, just one more tale about the Captain and the Kid

The only real sad omission is that Elton didn’t record music for the twelfth lyric that Bernie wrote for this masterpiece of an album. Simply titled “12” the lyrics, which are included in the album liner notes, sound to be Bernie’s final goodbye: 
That’s it, I guess / It’s been some trip / But we’ll just shrug and say, “it’s just my job, it’s all I know” / I hope we did okay

Fortunately, Elton and Bernie will return to the studio with a new batch of material to bring us all another musical gift that we have no right to expect or demand after so much they’ve given us already. But The Captain and the Kid stands as the perfect autobiographical summation of the greatest songwriting team in pop music history. And to this day, nearly 15 years later, it remains a majestic album that should always be discussed alongside such other classic John/Taupin albums as Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.