Accents
An evening with Elton John
Charleston, South Carolina, USA—Nov. 9 was chockfull of memories, coursing as we were through times past on the wings of songs held aloft by Elton John. From their residence at Beaufort County, the threesome—David, Randy, daughter Danika—with Rudy and me in tow, drove for nearly two hours to Charleston in blissful anticipation of Elton John's concert.
The Charleston coliseum was a picture of united humanity. A throng of enthralled twenty-thousand—the concert was a sell-out—broke into applause after applause, clapped, cheered, and swayed to the music. Several times the crowd stood up in ecstatic ovation.
"This is heaven on earth," I said to Randy. But I suppose every concert does that — when joy trumps pain, harmony overpowers conflict, and problems dissolve in almost three hours of Elton John's entrancing music.
I first had a close-up of the singer at the televised funeral of Princess Diana in 1997. He sang Candle in the Wind, an emotional tribute to one he called "England's Rose." This I searched in YouTube, wanting to revive the memorable scene. There was Elton John in a black suit in a heart-breaking rendition that made many in the audience wipe the tears. The song, said to be the biggest selling single of all time with over 33 million copies sold, peaked in the charts worldwide after Princess Diana's untimely death. The lines continued to haunt as Elton John sang it Friday night, "…And it seems to me you lived your life like a candle in the wind/never fading with the sunset…Your candle burned out long before your legend ever will." The lyrics were originally written in 1973 in honor of Marilyn Monroe. A remake, also called Goodbye England's Rose, he wrote with Bernie Taupin, the lyricist for most of his songs.
He donned a waistcoat this time, on the sleeves multi-colored patches, at the back a female genie emerging from a cup — the same lovable, good-fellow mien although chubbier than the one who sang for Diana ten years ago. Behind rimless shades, one could discern mirthful eyes in the two larger-than-life projection screens suspended up high on both sides of the stage. Elton John got me wondering how artists generally retain their youthfulness. Is it because of the songs they sing, the lyrics they write, or the portraits they paint? Have artists found deep down the essential true, good, and beautiful — all these to surface in the outer shell and in their creations? Mine is only to surmise.
In a brief bio are highlights of a career that has spanned four decades: In 1994, he won the Oscar for Best Original Song, Can You Feel the Love Tonight, in collaboration with Tim Rice for the animated film Lion King. In the same year, he was inducted to the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame. In 1998, he was knighted in his British homeland by Queen Elizabeth for "services to music and charitable services." (His Elton John Aids Foundation has raised millions for HIV research and related illnesses.) Thus to the true-blue Brits, he is Sir Elton John. He ranks No. 49 in Rolling Stone's Immortals: The 100 Greatest Artists of All Time. Last March 25, his 60th birthday, he performed to a packed crowd at New York's Madison Square Garden. After Charleston, he's scheduled for a two-night stand in Florida before globe-trotting for a series of concerts in Japan Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa.
Never mind Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Tiny Dancer, Daniel, Crocodile Rock, etc. What I really wanted to hear was Skyline Pigeon which he did not sing that night. Skyline Pigeon became very popular in 1973 when idealists (count Rudy in) languished in the Marcos stockade as they (Major Gen. Renato Miranda, Brig. Gen. Danilo Lim, Col. Ariel Querubin, et al.) languish now under the present dispensation. Utterly far-fetched to bring this in? But music does that. Takes you down the long, long memory lane and keeps you humming the lines: For just a skyline pigeon/Dreaming of the open/Waiting for the day he can spread his wings/And fly away again/Fly away skyline pigeon fly/Towards the dreams you've left so very far behind.
Elton John ended the concert with Don't Let the Sun go Down on Me, and granddaughter Danika, herself a music lover, won't let that. His influence will surely live on with generations to come. Calls for an encore brought him back warbling Your Song that pulsates with a poignant note, My gift is my song and this one's for you. In the silence of a grateful heart, I say, "Thank you for the gift, Elton John."
(Comments to lagoc@hargray.com)