I was at Rhino Records in New Paltz the other day, a very excellent independent record store, and I found something utterly rare — a 1970 recording of Elton John at the studios of A&R Records, with a small audience of about 125 people. This was for a special broadcast on what was then WABC-FM Radio, the precursor to WPLJ, for many years the heart and soul of rock in New York City.
Berine Taupin was already writing with Elton at that time, but there are no familiar hit songs on the recording. Yet the atmosphere and the sheer artistry of the performance are stunning; and man, can he play piano. Personally I always think it’s fascinating to get a glimpse of people the day before they become superstars. So this CD has been going around and around in my car as I’ve been tooling across the countryside the past week or so.
Then I woke up with the song “Philadelphia Freedom” in my mind this morning and voila, I found this recording on YouTube at the Royal Opera House.
I had tears running down my face 10 seconds into the song. For one thing when I see an orchestra of 100 playing like that, the first thing I’m reminded of is that each and every one of those musicians has devoted most of their lifetimes to being able to play like that — making it look so easy…often the result of decades of training and practice. Then you get a thousand years of musical experience in a five minute performance. A man named Gene Page, whose work you’ve heard many times without ever knowing his name, wrote the orchestral arrangement.
If you want some evidence that Sir Elton is only part of the picture, and that no matter how great or small we are, we’re all playing our part in the cosmic symphony — notice how he’s barely in his seat when the drummer counts out the beginning of the song.
“Philadelphia Freedom” is a shout-out to Billie Jean King, who played on the Philadelphia Freedoms tennis team in the 1970s. This song came out in a time when it was still dangerous to be associated with being bisexual, gay or lesbian; so when you consider the song’s soaring exuberance, remember the nature of the triumph. Being gay nearly cost Elton his career when he finally came out of the closet.
No matter what kind of American you are, this is a tribute to what is possible if you honor your own right to exist and get out of your own way. And for you Americans in the reading audience wondering about this elusive “freedom” we pursue in our country, let a Brit explain it to you.
He’s talking about the freedom to love who you love, if you ask me, the first and last liberty that there is. Check out the saucy look on his face when he sings the line, “knee high to a man…”
As for Bernie Taupin, hats off once again. He is one writer I hope I get to meet someday.
I used to be a rolling stone
You know if the cause was right
I’d leave to find the answer on the road
I used to be a heart beating for someone
But the times have changed
The less I say the more my work gets done
`Cause I live and breathe this Philadelphia freedom
From the day that I was born I’ve waved the flag
Philadelphia freedom took me knee-high to a man
Yeah gave me peace of mind my daddy never had
Oh Philadelphia freedom shine on me, I love you
Shine a light through the eyes of the ones left behind
Shine a light shine a light
Shine a light won’t you shine a light
Philadelphia freedom I love you, yes I do
If you choose to you can live your life alone
Some people choose the city
Some others choose the good old family home
I like living easy without family ties
Till the whippoorwill of freedom zapped me
Right between the eyes
Shine a light indeed!
Elton John was my first, maybe my only, celebrity crush. I was in middle school when this song came out–this was in Elton’s “bisexual” days–and my friend Bob and I used to vie for who had the better chance at him. In suburban Minneapolis. Sometimes I think the 70s were a lot better for queer folks than the ensuing years. Anyway, thanks for the glorious production. Not only can that man play, he can sing!
Eric, you son-ova-gun – now you got me crying. It’s nice to know that i’m not the only one in the space of vulnerable humility today. What now, eh?
Is that 1970 recording the one that starts with “Take Me To The Pilot”?
Best. Record. Ever.
Thanks for the reminder!
Suz