Track #35 - “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant” (1977)

From the album The Stranger

Music and lyrics by Billy Joel

Performed by:

Billy Joel – lead vocals & piano

Richie Cannata – horns

Steve Burgh – electric guitar

Hugh McCracken – acoustic guitar

Dominic Cortese – accordion

Doug Stegmeyer – bass

Liberty DeVitto - drums

Rolling Stone 500 Greatest Songs - #324 

Brenda and Eddie had had it already by the summer of ‘75

From the high to the low

To the end of the show for the rest of their lives

They couldn’t go back to the greasers

The best they could do was pick up the pieces

We always knew they would both find a way to get by

That’s all I heard about Brenda and Eddie

Can’t tell you more than I told you already

And here we are wavin’ Brenda and Eddie goodbye

The 2021 holiday season had a much different look than the year before. In December of 2020, COVID infections were at their height, vaccines had just rolled out and people were hunkering down at home and not gathering with family for the holidays. And if they did gather like we did, they held their breath and hoped for the best. But by the time the holidays rolled around in 2021 most people we knew had been vaccinated and while infections of a new variant of the virus were on the rise again, it seemed like things were loosening up, and I daresay maybe returning to normal. Our family made a return to Battenfeld’s to cut down our Christmas tree after they had all but closed for 2020, limiting visitors that year and keeping the holiday trappings to a minimum: no visit from Santa Claus, no hot cocoa stand, and no horse-drawn carriage rides. That all returned in 2021. Christine made a return to her office one day a week, and I made trips to my new NYC office, having started a new job that August. Even Manhattan looked and felt like Christmas again. Christine and I hosted a holiday party in the middle of December, inviting about 15 of our friends and family over for cocktails and bites, and it was so successful, our guests thanked us for weeks after, many of them not having been to a real party in over a year. It was a big middle finger to COVID that we were moving past it and seeing people again. And perhaps most important, the boys’ lives returned to normal as well. Dan moved back onto his college campus in May, and Dylan’s high school returned to full time in-person classes. Both were seniors and we were all glad they were preparing to graduate without the chaos of 2020. So yes, Christmas in 2021 looked much different than the prior year and we looked forward to spending time with our families as December marched on. On Christmas Eve we made the trek to New Jersey for the big family gathering (that would look different the following year; more on that down the road), and the boys stayed at our house so they could wake up with us Christmas morning. I remember we really spoiled each other that year; there was an obnoxious mountain of brightly wrapped gifts under our tree. As we tore open the gifts and made obligatory “Ooohs” and “Aaahs”, my younger son handed me two very flat gifts tied together with a ribbon. Vinyl records for sure, but which ones?? Since my wife bought me a new turntable for my 50th the year before, I had begun to accumulate vinyl again, and I was shameless about letting everyone know which albums I wanted, adding to the wish list I had on Amazon. Side note: I use Amazon to keep track of what I want, but I buy from record stores, and I encourage you to do the same. 😊 I shook the gift in jest, with a “Hmmm I wonder what this is??” smirk on my face, and carefully began to open them. I recognized the first one right away: no band name, no title, just the iconic picture of a bearded old man wearing a hat and leaning on a cane, a large bundle of sticks tied to his back. The album that came to be known as Led Zeppelin IV was staring back at me: “Rock and Roll”, “Black Dog”, “Stairway to Heaven”. I shouldn’t have to explain this to you; this is one of the greatest rock and roll albums of all time, and here it was in my living room, remastered on glorious 180-gram vinyl. I carefully placed it aside, eager to open the second one, and I started ripping the wrapping paper. When the cover was revealed, I once again recognized it: a man wearing a suit and tie curled up on an unmade bed, looking pensively down at a theater mask which is staring blankly back at him. It’s shot in such low light that it almost looks black and white. This was The Stranger by Billy Joel. I remember being quite impressed at Dylan’s insight into what I liked in terms of music, but it turned out he was a bigger Billy Joel fan than I knew. In fact, as I write this, he might be tinkling the piano at the arts center at his university, practicing the Billy Joel catalog. In 2023, he saw Billy Joel perform at Madison Square Garden, and called it “one of the greatest nights of my life.” The kid was a definitely a fan. I turned the album over in my hands and I recalled the first time I held The Stranger more than four decades before. That was my father’s copy, a Christmas gift he received in 1978, and like all his other records, I remember just staring at it at first, reading the song titles, and wondering what they sounded like, and what the cover meant. It would be easy to say that Billy Joel’s music came full circle that Christmas in 2021 when my son gave me The Stranger for Christmas, but Billy Joel’s music is not a circle to me; Billy Joel’s music is a thread. From the time I first heard The Stranger in 1978, Billy Joel has been everywhere for me: on the radio, in bars, roller skating rinks, school dances, friend’s weddings, concerts…the list goes on. I have owned every one of his records in one format or another over the years. And of course, when it came time to choose a first dance song for our wedding in 2010, once Christine gave me carte blanche to pick what I wanted, I picked a Billy Joel song. Sure, we had other contenders; “Leather and Lace” by Stevie Nicks, and 311’s cover of the Cure’s “Lovesong” come to mind, but when I had the green light, I knew I wanted our first song to be “You’re My Home” by Billy Joel. I realize it’s easy to say I’m a Billy Joel fan because I grew up on Long Island, also where Billy Joel was raised and makes his home now, and sure, that may have had an influence. Because his music fell into several genres, I heard his music on the radio probably every day, since literally every station on Long Island played his music, all the time. When he released a new album, it was front and center at all the Long Island record stores. When he played live in New York, it sold out (and still does) in minutes. So, I’d be lying if I said being on Long Island did not influence how I heard Billy Joel. But truth be told, I was singing the songs from The Stranger in front of the mirror before we moved to Long Island. Like Elton John, there was just something about the music that made sense and spoke to me from the beginning. It’s no surprise my own children also listen to his music; it’s that thread again, a thread that began one Christmas evening in 1978, when two siblings exchanged gifts. You guessed it; buckle up because we’re heading back to Brooklyn.

William Martin Joel was born in the Bronx on May 9th, 1949, to parents of Jewish descent, Howard, and Rosalind. His family relocated and settled in Hicksville, a Long Island suburb of New York City, when he was a year old. He began piano lessons when he was four, and continued playing as he approached adolescence. Eventually, Joel took up boxing and had 22 fights as a teenager, dividing his time between music and fighting. In 1964, he saw the Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show and decided to fully dedicate himself to a career in music. He quickly joined a cover band called The Echoes, and eventually found work as a session musician at just 16 years old. Joel would move between bands until eventually joining an upstart Long Island group called The Hassles, who had just signed a record deal with United Artists. They released two albums before breaking up in 1969. Joel and The Hassles’ drummer, Jon Small, formed a heavy metal duo called Attila, and they released one album, with the pair appearing on the cover dressed as barbarians. The album flopped, and the duo called it quits, but not before Joel ran off with Small’s girlfriend, whom he later married (I swear I am not making this up). In the early 1970s, Joel signed with Family Productions and began to hone the songwriting and sound that would eventually make him a star. He recorded his debut solo album, Cold Spring Harbor, in 1971. Due to a mastering error, the album was released with all the songs at the wrong speed, distorting Joel’s voice, and the tempo of the songs; the album failed commercially. Joel moved to Los Angeles in 1972 and he quickly found work playing piano at a lounge called The Executive Room; the gig and the regulars that he played for there would become the inspiration for his signature song, “Piano Man”. It was around this time that a Philadelphia DJ began to play a live recording of Joel’s “Captain Jack” on the radio, and it soon became an underground hit. Columbia Records heard it and soon signed Joel, and he recorded his second album, Piano Man, released in 1973. While sales were modest, the album contains not only the signature title track, but a recorded version of “Captain Jack”, the deep cut “The Ballad of Billy the Kid”, and a song that he penned for his wife as a Valentine’s Day gift, “You’re My Home”, a song that would end up being near and dear to me almost 40 years later. The album Streetlife Serenade followed in 1974, but by then, Joel had had enough of Los Angeles, and he returned to New York to record Turnstiles in 1975. Turnstiles would also be the first time Joel recorded an album with his touring band and he began a collaboration with the musicians that would make up his core band until the late 1980s: Richie Cannata on horns, Liberty DeVitto on drums, and Doug Stegmeyer on bass. Turnstiles would only peak at #122 on the Billboard Album Chart, but if you look at a partial track listing, you will probably go, “Huh?”: “Say Goodbye to Hollywood”; “Summer, Highland Falls”; “New York State of Mind”; “Prelude/Angry Young Man”; “Miami 2017 (Seen the Lights Go Out on Broadway)”. Billy Joel usually opens his shows with one of the latter two songs, and “New York State of Mind” is now considered a standard and is played at many NY sporting events. The point is that five of his most iconic songs are on this one album, and it barely got noticed back in 1975. At the time, the airwaves were filled with established singer/songwriters like James Taylor and Carole King, plus stadium rockers Led Zeppelin and up and coming New York glam rockers KISS, so maybe the world was just not ready for an artist from Long Island that defied genre. Joel knew he needed a hit album or else he might be finished. With the label ready to drop him, Columbia Records introduced him to producer Phil Ramone, the man who would produce all of Joel’s albums until 1986. Ramone was known for his engineering and production skills and was coming off producing the Grammy-winning Still Crazy After All These Years by Paul Simon in 1975. Legendary Beatles producer George Martin originally expressed interest in producing Joel’s next album, but Martin wanted Joel to use different session musicians, and Joel refused. He saw his band as true collaborators, and he wanted to capture their live energy in the studio. So, Ramone, Joel and his band entered the studio to record what would become The Stranger in the summer of 1977. The sessions took only three weeks, and to hear Joel tell it, it was one of the best recording experiences of his career. Some of the stories that came from those sessions: drummer DeVitto calling out Joel for singing “Movin’ Out” to the tune of Neil Sedaka’s “Laughter in the Rain”, (Joel ended up re-writing the melody) and chiding him again when he sang “Only the Good Die Young” in a Jamaican accent, even throwing his sticks in disgust because he didn’t want to play the song to a reggae beat (“The closest you’ve been to Jamaica is the Long Island Railroad!”); Joel having to be convinced to include the Grammy-winning ballad “Just the Way You Are”; and Joel whistling the melody to the title track because he wasn’t sure what instrument he wanted to use, and producer Ramone suggesting they leave it in as the intro to the song. The album was released in late September of 1977, and peaked at #2 on the Billboard Album Chart in February 1978. The single “Just the Way You Are” hit #3 and won the Grammy for Record of the Year the following year. Other singles released from the album were all Top 40 hits; Joel even performed “Just the Way You Are” on Saturday Night Live. Billy Joel finally had his hit record and some critical acclaim to boot. The Stranger would pave the way for a string of hit records all through the 1980s and make him one of the biggest musical acts in the world.

I don’t remember much specifically about the Christmas season of 1978. There were probably some Star Wars toys under the tree, and that may have been the year I received the toy truck from the 1970s cop show, S.W.A.T. and the accompanying action figures, or the Evel Knievel motorcycle, complete with indestructible rubber Knievel doll clad in a white jumpsuit. We had visited with my grandparents who lived around the corner from us on Fulton Street, walking home in the dark with our presents and probably some leftovers in tow. My other set of grandparents, my dad’s parents, lived a few blocks away, right near the elevated train (or the “El”) on Pine Street. We were there the previous evening, on Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve at my father’s parents was non-negotiable; they owned Christmas Eve, and the family was required to be there and that was that. My grandfather was a butcher by trade, so there was no shortage of veal parmesan, sausage and meatballs with pasta, and of course, we had the traditional 7 Fishes meal, all served on a heavy dining room table that looked a mile long. For dessert there was Panettone cake, rainbow cookies, cannoli, and struffoli, little fried balls of dough tossed in wine and honey; you can bet I was sneaking those before dinner. By the time we were finished eating what was an all-day feast and opening gifts, most of the men and boys had removed their sweaters and were down to white t-shirts sprawled out on the shag carpet, ready for the food coma to follow. I do remember one gift from that evening, the board game PayDay; man, did I love that game. Christmas Eve was more of an event than Christmas Day; the actual holiday was probably a recovery day for my parents, but I give them a lot of credit for packing up my brother and I to go visiting two days in a row. So, when we arrived home that Christmas evening, they were no doubt exhausted, and probably eager to get us to bed, ready to put the two-day marathon behind them. But when we were settled at home, I remember overhearing my dad tell my mom, “Linda wants to stop by with our gifts.” Linda was my dad’s sister, my aunt, who lived in Queens with her husband Ralph. They were pretty cool, from what I remember. My aunt had this great long hair she could sit on, and an infectious laugh, and my Uncle Ralph wore bell bottom jeans and could play the guitar. Apparently, they had left my parents’ gifts at home the night before, and they wanted to swing by and exchange gifts and visit for a few minutes. That probably did not go over well with my mom, who was probably ready to collapse in bed. All I thought was that there were maybe more gifts in store for my brother and I, so I didn’t mind another visitor. However, my mom reminded me that Aunt Linda had already given us our presents the night before but had forgotten hers and my dad’s. Ugh, whatever. I had new stuff to keep me occupied while the adults were doing their thing. So, my aunt and uncle arrived, we settled in the living room, and I remember parking myself beside my dad as he prepared to open his gift from his sister. He held a flat square gift in his hands, and with a laugh said, “Ha, I wonder what this is?” Even at eight years old I knew it was a record…a record!! Now I was curious myself. My dad ripped all the wrapping paper off, and I sort of peered over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the cover. There was a guy on a bed, in a suit, looking sad almost, looking down at a mask…Billy Joel, The Stranger. My dad seemed pleased…”Ahhh, Billy Joel…this is a good one!! Thank you!!” He set the record down, leaning it against the heavy brown bookcase that housed the stereo system; he wouldn’t play it tonight, not at this hour. But what’s to stop me from checking out the cover now? I squatted on the carpet in my fire engine pajamas and corduroy slippers and looked at the cover again. Yeah, this guy looked sad for sure…and why was he wearing a suit and tie in bed? I turned the album over. There were five guys pictured on the back cover; two were standing, and three were sitting at a restaurant table covered in a red-checked tablecloth. One of them looked older, and he was wearing a Yankees’ jersey. One of the guys at the table was looking at what appeared to be a bottle of wine. One of the guys standing was also holding a wine bottle; he had his arm around the guy wearing the Yankees jersey, and he wore black rimmed eyeglasses. And the guy on the front cover was also sitting at the table, all the way to the right, clad in a different suit and tie, and he still didn’t look happy. They were clearly in a restaurant, and it seemed like they may have just finished their meal and were now hanging out there. The restaurant had a very familiar look, like it could be a place from my own neighborhood. In fact, all these guys looked like they could live down the block from me; they could have been my dad’s friends, that’s how familiar and how unassuming they appeared. Much different from when I first saw Elton John on the cover of his greatest hits album a few years before; there were no big hats, garish suits or platform shoes on these guys. The serious looking one was Billy Joel, I decided. The other guys must be his band.  I looked at the song listing; “Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song)”…huh, I had an uncle named Anthony (we called him Tony). There was a song called “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant”; maybe that one was about the place where the photo was taken. I couldn’t wait for Dad to play this the next day, and that’s the last thought I had when I fell asleep, and Christmas 1978 was officially over.

I used to think that the weeklong school break between Christmas and New Year’s was created so kids could try out all their new toys. Now I firmly believe that week is for the parents to recover from the blitz of the previous few weeks and figure out how they’re going to pay the credit card bills. But in 1978, my brother and I had seven full days of no school, a pile of new toys under the tree, and no bills to worry about. Of course, I was excited about the new toys, but I was also still very curious about that new record Dad had received, just leaning on the bookcase still wrapped in cellophane. I knew better not to push either of my parents to play the record, so I tried to forget about it. My dad had taken a couple of days off from work and he was busy with whatever he did back then when he wasn’t working. But by the afternoon of December 26th, that curiosity about the record with the neighborhood guys on the back cover got the better of me, and I asked him if he was going to play his new album. I kept getting, “Yeah, in a few minutes,” but what did that really mean? Three minutes? Ten minutes? I stared at it, the sad guy on the bed with the mask, and wondered what the songs sounded like, wishing I could just drop it on the turntable myself. Finally, after what seemed like a week, Dad unwrapped the album and carefully placed it on the turntable, and there was the familiar pop as the needle fell, and then hiss before the needle caught the grooves. And there were lyrics inside the album jacket…lyrics!! “Dad, can I read the words?” “Yes, just be careful”, was the reply. Then…” Anthony works in the grocery store, saving his pennies for some day…Who needs a house out in Hackensack? Is that all you get for your money?” Hackensack? Wasn’t that in New Jersey? And he’s singing about a guy named Anthony. My Uncle Tony, if I’m being honest, looked like he was totally capable of working in a grocery store. “Mama if that’s movin’ up, then I’m…movin’ out…” I liked this, like instantly. I realized even at that young age that this was a story about people in the neighborhood. Side one continued to play; there was a sultry piano and then whistling to open the “The Stranger”, and then there was a mushy song, “Just the Way You Are”; ehhhh, still too young to appreciate that one. Now, here was the one I was waiting for, “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant”. There were a lot of words to this song, but what I will remember most from hearing that song for the first time, were the first few piano chords, playing so cleanly before any other instruments or singing began. Then I remember the light accordion, and then the first few lines…”A bottle of white, a bottle of red…Perhaps a bottle of rosé instead…” Hmmm, what was “rosé” ? “I’ll meet you anytime you want…in our Italian restaurant…” Maybe this was the restaurant on the back of the album cover? The song continued, changing tempo, with the narrator telling this person he’s sharing a bottle of wine with that he’s “…got a new wife, got a new life and the family is fine…” Two grown-ups, catching up…this could have been my dad, hanging out with an old friend. Then there was a piano break, and the song changes tempo again, and really starts to swing; I remember really digging this next part…”Brenda and Eddie were the popular steadies, and the king and the queen of the prom….Riding around with the car top down and the radio on…” Our narrator continues talking about this popular couple; they get married, but it doesn’t end well…before that though, and I love this line…”Well they got an apartment with deep pile carpets and a couple of paintings from Sears…” Pretty sure our apartment had deep pile carpets, but can’t attest to where my parents bought their paintings. In fact, this song could be about my parents, that’s how familiar it all sounded. The music had this great bassline underneath it, steady drums punctuated by cymbal hits and always, that bouncing piano melody. The groove and drive just mesmerized me as I sat on our sofa reading all the lyrics as Billy Joel sang. And right after a rocking saxophone solo, we hear about Brenda and Eddie’s fate: ” …they got a divorce as a matter of course and they parted the closest of friends…” And as I continued to listen to the story, I understood what these two grown-ups were doing. What did my mom call it? Ah yes… they were “gossiping”! As the song winds down, there’s a reprise of the beginning, and our narrator assures his friend, “I’ll meet you anytime you want, in our Italian restaurant…” Wow…now this was song. It was a story! A book! A movie! This was some real grown-up shit here!! Suddenly I wanted to be a grown-up. I wanted to sit in restaurants and drink wine and talk about people with my old friends!! This was the greatest music I had ever heard in my life. My dad flipped the record, and side two was just as good…more stories, more horns and drums that perfectly complemented every song, and always, that ever-present piano. I begged him to play it again…and again. In fact, I made him play The Stranger so much he said, “Johnny, we gotta give this a rest.” But I went back to school in the new year with all those songs in my head, especially “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant”. I loved singing the lyrics about Brenda and Eddie in front of my bedroom mirror, even though their story had a sad ending. I made my parents play The Stranger so much that I knew all the words to most of the songs and would just start singing out of nowhere. That wasn’t really a problem until I started to sing “Only the Good Die Young”, Billy Joel’s ode to Catholic school girls everywhere. As soon as my mom heard me belting, “Come out Virginia, don’t let me wait…You Catholic girls start much too late…” she had a fit. Of course I had no idea what that meant, but my mom told me in no uncertain terms to not ever sing that in school. Jeez, between that and the restrictions on “Le Freak” I’d have to go back singing nursery rhymes. But Dad continued to queue up The Stranger, and by the time we were settled in Long Island in 1980, he had Glass Houses and 1978’s 52nd Street in his collection; soon I had my own copies. Six months after we moved my dad announced, “Hey, did you know Billy Joel is from Long Island?” It was the coolest thing I had ever heard. And that’s what started the whole Billy Joel thing for me. More albums followed: The Nylon Curtain, An Innocent Man, The Bridge, Storm Front, and greatest hits and live collections in between. We kept on listening to the music, and Billy Joel became an icon; this short, unassuming guy from the neighborhood became one of the biggest singer/songwriters in the world and gave me a soundtrack for my life, and gave my family, my wife and my boys, a musical thread.  

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“Scenes from An Italian Restaurant” does not have an official video per se, but after doing some digging, turns out they made an animated video for it back in 2022 to coincide with the release of Billy Joel – The Vinyl Collection, Vol. 1, which includes vinyl editions of nine Billy Joel albums. Notice the theater masks and boxing gloves on the cover of the menu as the video starts. Not sure how I feel about the video, but I’ll leave it here for you check out…maybe grab a bottle of white or a bottle of red before you watch 😊 Sing along and enjoy!

Next time…a Danish metal band I had never heard of opens for Metallica in 2017, and once again proves my point: you never, ever skip the opening band.

P.S.

The “Italian Restaurant” that inspired Billy Joel is called Fontana di Trevi, located on West 57th Street in midtown Manhattan, but Joel has said over the years that a few places served as inspiration. Joel frequented Fontana di Trevi when he played a string of dates at Carnegie Hall in 1977; it’s located right across the street. According to several sources the restaurant is closed, but honestly, I couldn’t figure out if that was temporary or permanent, so if you have any info, please feel free to drop it in the comments. The joint on the back of The Stranger album cover is Guido’s Restaurant, which occupied the rear half of the Supreme Macaroni pasta store, located in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen on Ninth Avenue. The location has since been torn down. The photo that had me so enamored with the five “neighborhood guys” was taken right after band practice that day: standing are producer Phil Ramone, donning the Yankees’ jersey and drummer Liberty DeVitto, wearing the big eyeglasses; sitting, from left, are bassist Doug Stegmeyer, examining the wine bottle, saxophonist Richie Cannata is looking directly at the camera in the middle, and that is indeed Billy Joel on the right, looking serious, wearing a white suit jacket and paisley tie. “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant” is often considered one of Joel’s best songs, and Joel himself considers it his favorite of his own songs. He was originally inspired by the second side of the Beatles’ album Abbey Road, which is a blend of incomplete pieces of music stitched together by producer George Martin into songs. Joel had written a song called “The Ballad of Brenda and Eddie” but was not sure where it fit, and he had the other parts of the song written as well, but again, they had no musical homes, so to speak. He basically put the parts together and that’s what you hear. It’s also been compared to Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody”, as Freddie Mercury had several pieces of music that he glued together into the six-minute song you’re familiar with today. Phil Ramone has also said he used very little equalization on the song, which kept all the instruments sounding “focused and tight”; no one instrument is more important than another on the whole track, and I think that’s what appealed to me when I first heard it decades ago. It’s very complete sounding, and a showcase for the entire band. Sonically, I think it’s perfect, with some of the best horns and drums heard on any Billy Joel song. The song is and has been a live standard since The Stranger’s release, despite never being put out as a single. I still love the musical changes in the song and the story it tells, and most of all, I love the era in my own life that it reminds me of; not because I had friends like Brenda and Eddie when I first heard it, but because of that familiar, simpler time it came out in.

Billy Joel had already released 52nd Street when my dad opened The Stranger that Christmas. That album contains the monster hits “Big Shot” and “My Life”, as well as fan favorites “Stiletto” and “Zanzibar”, and it won the Grammy for Album of the Year in 1979. Beginning with 1980’s Glass Houses, Joel went on a run that rivaled the biggest pop stars of the decade, culminating in 1993’s River of Dreams. Joel has sold 160 million records worldwide, despite not having released an album of new material since 1993. His Greatest Hits Vol I & II is one of the highest selling records ever in the US. Joel’s music is almost impossible to categorize, contributing to his universal appeal. Is it classic rock? Is it pop? Is it adult contemporary? (Yikes). My favorite thing about his music is the songs I want to hear live are not even singles, songs like “Vienna”, “Zanzibar”, and “The Ballad of Billy the Kid”, just to name a few. When you consider the best songs from Turnstiles were not ever released as singles and are some of his most beloved songs now really says something about him as a songwriter and his longevity as an artist. It puts him up there with artists like Dave Matthews and Bruce Springsteen; sure, the hits are great, but keep playing the deep cuts for us all night. When MTV became ubiquitous in the 80s, Joel embraced the music video, creating memorable videos for hits like “Tell Her About It”, “Uptown Girl”, and “Pressure”, which broadened his audience and sold more records. But, if he was at the piano right now at Madison Square Garden and he gave the crowd a choice between one of the big hits above, and say, “Vienna”, they’d pick “Vienna” every time.  The Stranger is without a doubt my favorite Billy Joel album, but I also really like Turnstiles, Glass Houses and An Innocent Man and my wife and I are huge fans of Storm Front. I know “We Didn’t Start the Fire” is the big memorable hit from that record, but I’ve always thought it’s sort of kitschy and more of a pop culture moment. But I think “And So It Goes” and “Downeaster Alexa” from Storm Front are two of the best songs Joel has ever written. On February 1st, 2024, Joel released his first new single in decades, “Turn the Lights Back On”, a song he collaborated on with songwriters Freddy Wexler, Arthur Bacon, and Wayne Hector. The song debuted at #62 on the Billboard Hot 100, nearly 50 years after “Piano Man” first hit the charts. And for the first time since 2002, he performed at the Grammy Awards ceremony on February 24th.

 Billy Joel would dismiss most of his core band right around the time Storm Front was released, retaining only drummer Liberty Devitto. Saxophonist Richie Cannata played briefly on River of Dreams in 1993 and played with Joel for his 12-show run at Madison Square Garden in 2006. After drifting and playing with various musicians after being fired, bassist Doug Stegmeyer would tragically take his own life in 1995. DeVitto would find out he was dismissed when he did not receive an invitation to Joel’s wedding in 2004; there was no call or any communication from Joel or management to let him know of the dismissal. The two old friends and musical partners would trade jabs over the years until they finally reconciled in 2020, shortly before the publication of DeVitto’s memoir, Liberty: Life, Billy, and the Pursuit of Happiness, which I highly recommend. Joel agreed to write the introduction to the book. DeVitto talks about his musical beginnings, his drumming influences and gives breakdowns of almost every Billy Joel song he played on. He also addresses the breakup of Joel’s band, the aftermath, and how he finally reconnected with old boss. DeVitto narrates the audiobook himself. The story of the end of Billy Joel’s band that helped give him his sound on all those iconic records is messy, and one I wish didn’t have to be told, but as we talked about on the Guns N’ Roses post, we’re probably lucky they even got together in the first place. You can also hear DeVitto talk about his years playing for Joel in the Netflix documentary Hired Gun. Joel has contended the breakup and dismissal of his band was “never about money”, and he and DeVitto will not discuss the reasons publicly; DeVitto told Rolling Stone they are “going to rebuild and reclaim this friendship that we have.” Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see Billy Joel when he played with his core group of collaborators, but his current band is amazing, of course; he will always have the best players behind him. But there’s no question those records he made in the late 1970s and 80s sound the way they do because he had that band playing with him. In 2014, Stegmeyer, Cannata, DeVitto and guitarist Russell Javors were inducted into the Long Island Music Hall of Fame, honored mostly for their work in Billy Joel’s band.

In 2006, Joel played a sold out, 12-show run at Madison Square Garden in New York City. A “Joel-12” banner was raised to the rafters to commemorate him selling out twelve consecutive performances. In 2013, Joel was named the venue’s first musical resident artist, beginning a once per month residency that will conclude in July 2024, with the 150th MSG show of his career. When the residency began, Joel said he would play “as long as the demand continues.” Every show since January 2014 has sold out, and if he wasn’t ending it himself, he could probably play a show every month and sell out MSG until they finally dragged him off the stage. It’s been an unprecedented run for an artist and singer/songwriter that’s come to personify New York: grit, hard work, staying true to who you are and not taking any shit usually takes you far in the city that never sleeps, and Billy Joel seems to not have let critics or even his early bad business deals keep him down. I’ve been lucky enough to see him perform live three times: once during his 12-show stint at MSG in 2006, and twice during his residency run (September 2014 and December 2023). The shows, of course, were all memorable, and there’s nothing like being able to sing along to every single song because they’re literally ingrained in you. While I was researching this, I tried to think of other artists or bands that were so synonymous with the state they originated in, thus being required listening for residents of those states. Certainly, Bon Jovi and Bruce Springsteen come to mind for those in New Jersey. I think they either kick you out of the state or raise your property taxes if you’re not a fan of one or the other. Maybe Jimmy Buffett for Floridians? Eminem for Detroit? Pearl Jam/Nirvana/Soundgarden for Seattle? It’s an interesting discussion. But I do know that if you grew up on Long Island in the 70s and 80s, Billy Joel is in your DNA; it was required listening growing up. Now it’s just up to my generation to keep passing it down, sort of how my dad did, way back when siblings still gave each other records for Christmas.

OK, so I challenged myself to pick my favorite 20 Billy Joel songs; it wasn’t easy! I’ve mentioned that when the 50 At 50 was just an idea that I had six Billy Joel songs as contenders, and I highlighted three specifically on the “B” Team post: “You May Be Right”, “Pressure” and “You’re My Home”; those are all here, as well as “Scenes” and 16 more. It wasn’t easy picking 20, but here they are. Did I miss any of your favorites? Leave them in the comments!

See you next time…

JS

5/31/2024