Published on Apr 24, 2006
I admit it; I dreaded listening to this album for the
first time. Among Elton John fans, it has the reputation of being
one of the worst of his albums. Coming at the end of a lousy
relationship with Geffen Records, as well as a time of personal and
professional crisis, it is hard to imagine him pulling a winner out
of his hat. For my money, Leather Jackets lives up to the
“hype” to claim the title of Worst Elton Album.
Maybe it’s the horrible, 80s-sounding production. I
could not help but laugh at the opening bars to “Go It Alone;” for
all intents and purposes, I was listening to the Super Marios
Bros. theme. Leather Jackets is just as out of date as
acid-washed jeans and Rainbow Brite (thanks, “I Love The
80’s”).
Within a short period of time, John would require
throat surgery, and that is most evident on his studio recordings
with Leather Jackets. The vocals are raspy and lack that
range Elton had for so many years. Along those lines, by this time
John had once again dumped his core trio, retaining just Davey
Johnstone. That cohesive sound displayed on previous efforts like
Too Low For Zero and Breaking Hearts was gone. I’m
also curious to know how the sessions yielded eleven tracks; I
expected a much shorter album.
Is there anything redeemable from Leather
Jackets? Barely, and that’s only after lowering my standards
for Elton John. “Don’t Trust That Woman” has funny lyrics, courtesy
of Cher. The song is worth it just for the opening line, “She’s a
real ball-buster, don’t trust her.” “Slow River” features a duet
with Cliff Richard, and works for the most part, as in neither
embarrasses the other. “Angeline” starts off intriguingly with a
group chant and also features Roger Taylor and John Deacon of
Queen. Of course, I couldn’t have told you that just by listening,
since they blend into the mediocrity that inhabits Leather
Jackets. I’m grasping at straws to find highlights here.
One great test of an album’s quality is whether or
not it drives you to sleep. As I sat beside the pool here in
Florida, I wasn’t planning on taking a nap. About seven songs in,
Leather Jackets forced me into one as some type of
self-defense mechanism. However, there is a bare smidgen of quality
that keeps Leather Jackets from falling to a lower
rating.