Don't Talk! (Freddie Mercury / Queen)

Epilogue

— ROLLING  STONE —

Storm Front
5/5 Stars
Review by Hayes Griffith
Published: November 30th, 1989

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And So It Goes....

Billy Joel's discontented decry of the "modern" world.

Billy Joel's latest album 'Storm Front' does not aim to be a complacent compilation of songs in which the listener can escape from reality and instead immerse themselves in a pop fantasy. No, Joel does not shy away from society's current failings, instead he embraces the unsavoury real world issues and transforms them into something a little easier to digest: music.

The album's first single, 'We Didn't Start the Fire' documents the erosion of our society's moral center, by condensing forty years worth of history into one delirious, galvanic, and frenzied track. Joel efficiently leaps through the decades mentioning their key figures, and their issues with a half crazed intensity. In one line he mentioning the likes of Doris Day, and Grace Kelly, whilst singing about Castro and the Communist Bloc in the next breath.

Once he careens towards the more contemporary social horrors at hand, Joel starts to lose it — "Foreign debts, homeless vets, AIDS, crack, Bernie Goetz/ Hypodermics on the shore, China's under martial law" — well, Joel voices it perfectly, "I can't take it anymore!" But more on that later, my darling readers.

For now, I think I should drone on about instrumentals and go into heavy detail about the difference Mick Jones makes to Joel's sound now that he's replaced Phil Ramone. Perhaps I should talk about chord progressions, that would be interesting wouldn't it?

Or maybe I should see if the Rolling Stone's editors are worth their salt. If you're currently reading this, they aren't.

For about a decade, this has been a platform to air my anticipated opinions, but now I think I shall give you a dose of my unwanted ones. I only recently turned thirty-seven, so I am quite aware that this news may seem rather strange, but yet here the announcement it is in black and white: I'm retiring from writing. I didn't think 'quitting' was the appropriate term for what I'm doing, seeming as I don't ever intend to bag myself a new job in which I have to pick up a pen and smudge the earth with my criticisms ever again.

You see, I think the world is rapt with enough hatred at the moment, and that I don't need to contribute to the problem anymore. I'm done, and want to make better use of my time. I see no real merit in professionally scrounging about for faults with music. Especially not when it's one of the few things left that bring people any microcosm of happiness in a world that's gone tits-up.

Of course, I'm not about to apologise for anything I have said over the years (because I find my past works to be quite funny if I'm being honest), but I am waving the metaphorical white flag. The musicians have won, and they will continue to do so. You artists were always going to win too, so I don't know why you allowed my silly comments to bother you so much. What, did you lot think that in years to come, when I'm dead and gone, that my words would stand the test of time?

No, my comments will be forgotten and your music will remain. If you remember that much, it may help you to ignore the words of my colleagues in future. Be proud of the work you do, and flick away us buzzing gnats that attempt to discourage you. Ars longa, vita brevis, and all that jazz.