Billy Joel – Turnstiles Review

Shaky stars aside, the pop notions of Billy Joel remain thoroughly fun. That is all you can ask of artists who want to top the charts, stay in the public eye, and write catchy, thrill-laden songs. Joel often feels close to greatness, and while he would provide examples of flourishing brilliance on the albums to follow, Turnstiles feels like a “nearly there” release. He headed too far deep into pop rock rip-offs with Piano Man, and followed it up with a contractual obligation, Streetlife Serenade. His fourth studio effort reminds listeners of his debut and the integrity it stands on. An album cover that looks like an ’80s sitcom in which Tom Selleck would crop up, Turnstiles has a hearty, helpful connection to the streets of the Big Apple. It is here, on the subway or the overground, which finds Joel dealing with the everyday stories.  

Similar in origins to Piano Man, Joel paints himself as the quiet observer. He holds back his real comment and opinion for song, instead offering a few leading questions at the time of these encounters to paint a bright and exciting picture. For those who enjoyed Piano Man, Joel offers more of the same lighter-than-light offerings. He makes no suggestion of being an artist of emotional depths or of unique proportions. Instead, Joel is clear in what he does best: catchy pop riffs and tacky-sounding songs. Even then, they are relatively enjoyable occasions which play up the style of the times. At least the title song of Piano Man had some relatable moments, those hooks which create an earworm of a song. Turnstiles has Joel detailing fond farewells, absences in his life and the empty spots in the listener’s. It makes opener Say Goodbye to Hollywood both charming and annoying. Those strings do some heavy lifting. 

One of the clear problems Joel has, and this is true of his post-Turnstiles work too, is the forced and failed contrast between his image and music. The clean-cut, straight-shooting singer-songwriter has ambitions of being a soft rock hero with an even softer core. He gets there by adapting whatever tone and sound is popular. The people he meets and learns from all have one thing in common. They all want to dance, according to Joel. His lack of perspective, the one-note, singular message of his songs, is a real shame. Catchy fluff is what Turnstiles is at the best of times. All You Wanna Do Is Dance adapts the popular sounds of the time and suggests staying in the past is the right course of action. How right he was. All of it feels mawkish, and no amount of instrumental spectacle can change that.  

Even the saxophone thrills and instrumental depths of New York State of Mind, a song which suggests Joel has encountered and changed with the rhythm of the city, is a dud. Radio-ready music. “Will you ever write your masterpiece?” he asks on James. He would. But not on this album. Joel may kick it up a notch for Prelude / Angry Young Man, and despite it being the best song on the album, there is little to suggest Joel is the titular man. He sounds very accepting of his rough time in the studio, even after his label pushed him to record while on the road. Joel continues to lack that extra edge, the bite and rage of a man who has been put through the ringer. The world is not on his side, and yet he sounds overjoyed. Such is the shortcoming of Joel on Turnstiles, something he would square up on The Stranger.