Stan is not my real name.
Despite his personal problems and stuff.. His songs resonate with a simple practical wisdom.
He taught me that I should let a woman know that I like her in his song "Tell Her About It" and how to interact with a modern woman in "Modern Woman". He taught me to take responsibility for my own actions, rather than feel burdened by the actions of those who have come before me, in "We Didn't Start The Fire".
And thanks to "Uptown Girl" I no longer feel restricted by my upbringing and social standing.
God Bless You Billy Joel
Dual type (as per tcaudilllg)
Enneagram 2w1sw(1w9) helps others to live up to their own standards of what a good person is and is very behind the scenes in the process.
Tritype 1-2-6 stacking sp/sx
I'm constantly looking to align the real with the ideal.I've been more oriented toward being overly idealistic by expecting the real to match the ideal. My thinking side is dominent. The result is that sometimes I can be overly impersonal or self-centered in my approach, not being understanding of others in the process and simply thinking "you should do this" or "everyone should follor this rule"..."regardless of how they feel or where they're coming from"which just isn't a good attitude to have. It is a way, though, to give oneself an artificial sense of self-justification. LSE
Best description of functions:
I'll end him if he's LSE.
I find some of his songs appealing. Some really annoying. Don't know shit about him.
". . . And when she knows what she wants from her time / And when she wakes up and makes up her mind/She'll see I'm not so tough . . ."
"While in these days of quiet desperation/As I wander through the world in which I live/I search everywhere for some new inspiration / But it's more than cold reality can give / If I need a cause for celebration/Or a comfort I can use to ease my mind/I rely on my imagination/And I dream of an imaginary time / I know that everybody has a dream / Everybody has a dream . . . And this is my dream, my own / Just to be at home/And to be all alone...with you / If I believe in all the words I'm saying / And if a word from you can bring a better day / Then all I have are these games that I've been playing/To keep my hope from crumbling away . . . let me go on sleeping / And I will lose myself in palaces of sand/And all the fantasies that I will be keeping/Will make the empty hours easier to stand . . ."
'. . . He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me"/As a smile ran away from his face / "Well, I'm sure that I could be a movie star/If I could get out of this place” / Now Paul is a real estate novelist/Who never had time for a wife / And he's talking with Davy, who's still in the Navy/And probably will be for life / And the waitress is practicing politics/As the businessmen slowly get stoned / Yes they're sharing a drink they call loneliness / But it's better than drinking alone . . .”'
- Robert Christgau
Piano Man [Columbia, 1973]
Joel's Cold Spring Harbor was recorded in the vicinity of 38-rpm to fit all the material on—he's one of these eternal teenagers who doesn't know how to shut up. Stubborn little bastard, too--after his bid stiffed, he worked a Los Angeles cocktail lounge soaking up Experience. Here he poses as the Irving Berlin of narcissistic alienation, puffing up and condescending to the fantasies of fans who spend their lives by the stereo feeling sensitive. And just to remind them who's boss, he hits them with a ballad after the manner of Aaron Copland. C
The Stranger [Columbia, 1977]
Having concealed his egotism in metaphor as a young songpoet, he achieved success when he uncloseted the spoiled brat behind those bulging eyes. But here the brat appears only once, in the nominally metaphorical guise of "the stranger." The rest of Billy has more or less grown up. He's now as likable as your once-rebellious and still-tolerant uncle who has the quirk of believing that OPEC was designed to ruin his air-conditioning business. B-
Greatest Hits, Vols. 1 and 2 (1973-1985) [Columbia, 1985]
I give up--it would be as perverse to resist his razzle-dazzle as to pretend Led Zep doesn't knock your socks off. Songpoetry, rock and roll, the showtunes to come--such categories just get in his way. He's pure Tin Pan Alley, George M. Cohan if not Irving Berlin for a self-conscious, neoprimitive age, and in this high-quality context his soft early successes--"New York State of Mind," "She's Always a Woman" may the Lord forgive me, the image-making "Piano Man"--sound like the consumer durables there can be no doubt they'll be. It's unfortunate that the confessional codes of contemporary pop put his eternal insecurity around independent females up front, but his woman problems are no worse than Bob Dylan's--or for that matter John Lennon's or Bruce Springsteen's, although he's less pious, hence stupider, about them. He's pretentious, but never pious--going for the pop jugular is all he knows. The worst you can say about him is that half the time his aim isn't perfect. And the worst you can say about this album is that he baited it with two new misses. A-
An Innocent Man [Columbia, 1983]
His art album having gone platinum and failed to clear bottom line, Joel comes at his poor neglected generation direct, peddling a nostalgia no one will mistake for philosophy. And although he's still a wordy bastard who can't leave a simple piece of music alone, the pre-Beatle "concept"--unmistakable references to the Four Seasons and Otis Redding (as if Otis entered Billy's world before the Beatles, but never mind) marking a selfconsciously simplified musical orientation--does rein in his showbiz ornateness. A good half of these songs have the timeless melodic appeal of the greatest pop (the greatest pre-rock pop, but never mind)--the chorus he stole from "L. v. Beethoven" is by no means the most pleasing thing here. And though his Stax horns are way too ornate, that doesn't mean they're no fun. B+
Kristen Pfaff and Kurt Donald Cobain didn't like the scene anyhow