Published on Apr 10, 2006
Hard to believe that a short pianist from a failed
band would go on to have one of the most successful careers in
rock. Today, Elton John is one of the most recognizable faces and
names on the music scene, whether you like his music or not. Plays
on Broadway, musical scores, a soon-to-be TV show based on his life
and of course his albums all define Elton in 2006. However, back in
1969, all John had was his first album, Empty Sky.
A few months ago, we had a retrospective promoting
the best debut albums in rock. I thought about writing up a review
for Empty Sky back then, but truth be told, it wouldn’t have
been right, because despite a few interesting moments, Empty
Sky resembles a normal debut record in the sense that it isn’t
very good.
Things get off to a promising start with the title
track, a mature, semi prog-rock number. John demonstrates the range
of his early vocals, shifting from a snarling, Mick Jagger/Leon
Russell inflection to a lighter, gentle phrase or two. Actually,
some of “Empty Sky” reminded me of Tommy, with the guitar
swirls almost distant from the rest of the track. A bluesy jam
closes things up — listen to Elton attack the keys and you can see
the immense talent he had.
Then things start to get a tad rough. The main
problem behind most of the songs on Empty Sky is their lack
of strong, Elton John-esque melody. This is understandable,
considering this was the kid’s first album, but that doesn’t change
the reality of how the album sounds. Some tracks get close to
delivering an all around package; “Western Ford Gateway” spots one
of the stronger refrains, and the music flows naturally, as opposed
to “Val-Hala,” which aimlessly seeks to find the right note. Not to
imply it’s out of tune, but the musicians don’t sounds as tight. Of
course, session musicians populate most of Empty Sky.
The song most Elton fans would recognize from
Empty Sky would be “Skyline Pigeon.” On a scattershot album
lyrically from Bernie Taupin, “Pigeon” stands head and shoulders
above the rest. Ruminating about leaving everything behind and
“flying away,” it’s one of Taupin’s best lyrics to come out of the
early Elton John albums. While I prefer the version later recorded
around the time of Don’t Shoot Me, I’m Only The Piano
Player, the version here has its own charm, sounding more like
a hymn you would sing at church then a rock song.
The closing track, “Gulliver/It’s Hay
Chewed/Reprise,” is an oddity, and a horrible way to close out
Empty Sky. The first third is par for the course in terms of
the rest of the album, so it’s weak at the core. “It’s Hay Chewed,”
on the other hand, is the second most shining moment on Empty
Sky, as Elton and the boys goes jazz on the listener. John
would rarely go down this route; it’s a shame he didn’t more often.
After that brief treat, “Reprise” plays just like it sounds; the
listener is treated to brief clips of every song on the album. If
an album isn’t that good, reminding the listener of that fact is
not the best choice of action.
These days, most of Elton’s early albums come with an
assortment of bonus tracks. Empty Sky actually benefits from
their inclusion. The acid rock of “Lady Samantha,” the folksy “All
Across The Havens,” and the gorgeous ballad “It’s Me That You Need”
all are stronger than most of the material on the actual album.
“Just Like Strange Rain” plays much like a song from Empty
Sky but has a catchy, strong refrain. Had these four songs been
on Empty Sky, things might have been a little different.
Empty Sky is not Elton John’s strongest work;
in fact, it ranks pretty low on the list. However, the album does
provide the listener with glimpses of the future. Thankfully,
Elton’s growing pains would disappear very quickly with his
eponymous breakthrough album.