In my younger days, Billy Joel was one of those performers
whose music you either loved or hated, mostly depending on your tribal
affiliations, your musical expectations, and the depth of your musical
exposure. Put simply as possible, if you were really only familiar with the cuts
that made it to the Top 40 rotation, or were suspicious of anything the sweaty
masses liked, or expected your music to defy musical conventions, or any
combination of the three, you most likely hated him.
... At least until you lost
some of your snobbish pretentiousness, became more familiar with his catalogue,
and grew more appreciative of his craftsmanship.
Going to one of his shows would most likely shift you off
your base. By the 1980s, Joel was already acknowledged an electric performer
who could pump up the audience with his energy and showmanship. Now in his
mid-sixties, Joel may not be able to do back-flips off a Steinway, and may be a
little more careful about crowd-surfing or climbing the lighting gantries … but
he can still rock the house down to the ground, bringing a fan base that now
spans two generations jumping and screaming to their feet.
In a sense, then, how you appreciate Billy
Joel: The Definitive Biography, by Fred
Schruers (New York: Crown Archetype, 2014; $29.00), depends on
your expectations of biography. If all you’re looking for is a recital of some
facts of Joel’s life, his interpretation of those facts from his perspective in
2014, and some relation of his music’s lyrics to various events (particularly
his failed romantic and business entanglements), Schruer’s work will suffice.
If, however, you expect biography to expose the development of the subject’s
character and craft, on that level Billy
Joel fails; it’s little more than a hyperextended Rolling Stone article.



