Still My #1 Desert Island Album
Let’s cut the crap, if I’m stranded on a desert island and I get one album to take with me, I’m grabbing Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road like it’s a life raft covered in glitter.
We’re talking 17 tracks of pure, unfiltered genius. Dropped in October 1973, and still sounding fresher than half the stuff clogging up playlists today. It’s been 52 years and yet every time I spin it, from vinyl to streaming, it hits me with something new. A lyric I missed. A piano flourish that stabs the gut. A background harmony that makes me pause mid-lawn mowing.
This isn’t just Elton at his peak—it’s music at its peak.
From the moment “Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding” kicks the album off, you know you’re not in for a collection of singles and filler. No, this is a cinematic, glam-rock opera with heartbreak, swagger, fantasy and soul. That opening track alone? Nearly 11 minutes of prog-pop perfection. It builds like a thunderstorm and then explodes into a guitar-driven, piano-thumping anthem that punches you right in the nostalgia.
Then there’s the title track “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road.” The lyrics by Bernie Taupin? Devastating. Dreamy. Pure poetry about fame, fantasy and finally walking away from the BS. Elton sings it like a man who’s seen behind the curtain and wants nothing more than to go back to the farm. I swear, that falsetto on “beyond the yellow brick road” still gives me goosebumps.
But wait! We’re just getting warmed up.
“Bennie and the Jets” That offbeat glam freakshow jam? Still a crowd-pleaser and still weird as hell.
“Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting” Barroom brawl rock and roll. Put that on and try not to start swinging at your reflection.
“Candle in the Wind,” the original Marilyn Monroe version? Gutted me then. Still does now.
“Grey Seal,” “All the Girls Love Alice,” “Sweet Painted Lady” all deep cuts that most artists would kill to have as lead singles.
And here’s the kicker, it’s a double album. 17 songs, zero skips. That’s unheard of now. This thing flows like a perfect movie: bombastic opener, killer mid-section, emotional gut punches and a bittersweet curtain close.
Even after hundreds of listens, I still find myself pausing and thinking, “Wait, how did they do that in ‘Harmony’? What chord is that? Who thinks like this?”
So yeah, desert island album? No contest.
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road isn’t just Elton’s best. It’s rock history wrapped in rhinestones and heartbreak. It’s the sound of ambition, art and magic all crashing into each other and somehow landing perfectly. Half a century later, it still surprises. Still moves. Still rules.
