Here it is, the record that brought my seven-year-old self
to his knees, a cute l’il descriptive until I remembered the Elton John mondegreen
joke “Don’t let your son go down on me.”
The reality is that I had no perspective of sexuality at the
age of seven. All I knew was that Elton was a crazy dresser with hundred
thousand dollar eyewear and he had some good tunes that I enjoyed.
What I also didn’t know at that young age was that Don’t Shoot Me…I’m Only The Piano player was a hodgepodge of derivative
styles and formulas that find Elton expanding his range while falling flat on
more than one occasion.
And let’s be honest, songwriter Bernie Taupin and producer Gus
Dudgeon are partially to blame here for not providing John with a safety net to
fall back on when he gets a bit long in the tooth with his grandiose
arrangements and over-the-top theatrics.
I’m guessing “Elderberry Wine” is an attempt to channel the nostalgic
everyman rocket fuel of yesterday, but with lines like “The bottle went ‘round/Like
a woman down south/Passed on from hand to hand” you begin to feel resentful
that there wasn’t at least one of them to suggest “Try harder.”
Even more troubling is “Texan Love Song” which paints Elton
as some kind of Bob Seger road dog, detailing a redneck’s point of view of some
longhaired musician. “Ki-yi-yippie-yi-yi/You long hairs are sure gonna die” is
the best that Taupin can come up with for a chorus, and Elton conjures up some
dumb Texan drawl to the point where the entire thing is an embarrassment that
taints up the entire album.
Don’t think that the hit singles-and there are two huge ones
on Don’t Shoot Me-are exempt from criticism
due to their high chart positions. “Daniel,” which itself is a tremendous lyrical
study on the Vietnam war, is turned into a weak M.O.R. schmaltz thanks to
Dudgeon’s production that it completely neuters the subject matter.
“Crocodile Rock” turns out to be nothing more than an American Graffiti cash grab that’s as
authentic as a “Sit On It” t-shirt and a Bobby Vee show in Las Vegas . It’d be better served as Sha Na Na’s
breakthrough hit instead of Elton’s follow up single to “Honky Cat.” Not only
is Elton attempting to channel a bit of the 50’s into his repertoire, he’s
clearly pointing the entire vehicle in the wrong direction after making some headway
with the previous album, Honky Chateau.
Thankfully, it would be the very same year (1973) when Elton
rights the ship with Goodbye Yellow Brick
Road, so the stumble that is John’s sixth record was short-lived. But any
fan who feels the need to dip into Elton’s catalog will find Don’t Shoot Me as reason enough to use the
record for target practice.
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