That Cat Named Hercules, Part II

And now the conclusion of my countdown of Elton John longplayers...

17) REG STRIKES BACK (1988) C+   Following EJ’s mid-‘80s Ice On Fire/Leather Jackets malaise and subsequent throat surgery, he re-emerged with Reg Strikes Back, sounding like his old self again on the hit single "I Don’t Wanna Go On With You Like That".  The album also featured the minor hit "A Word In Spanish" and the sequel "Mona Lisas And Mad Hatters, Part II" as well as two fun cuts, the name-dropping "Goodbye Marlon Brando" ("Goodbye to Rocky V, VI, VII and VIII!" Elton sings) and a tribute to Brian Wilson, "Since God Invented Girls", which oddly coincided with the Beach Boys’ resurgence on the charts in the form of "Kokomo" in the fall of ’88. Hardly Elton’s greatest album ever, but not too shabby, either, and way better than his previous two.

16) ELTON JOHN (1970) B-   The biggest difference between Elton's debut LP Empty Sky and sophomore effort Elton John is the songs were a bit more memorable, and most of them were backed by conductor Paul Buckmaster’s orchestral arrangements. Elton and Bernie placed themselves on the map for good here with their stellar signature composition, the enduring (and endearing) "Your Song". "Take Me To The Pilot" is another landmark Elton track, in spite of Bernie’s obtuse lyrics. "Through the glass eye of your throne is the one danger zone" fits in the same vein as Kiss’ "Get up and get your grandma outta here…" (from "Deuce"): i.e., lyrics that SOUND really cool when you sing them, but don’t make a lick of sense!  "Sixty Years On" is dark and depressing, all about a lonely old man, "Border Song" takes on racism, and Elton takes a crack at Country music in "No Shoestrings On Louise" (or "Lou-WAYS" as he "sangs" it here). While not Elton’s true debut album, this is the snowball that started the avalanche…

15) CARIBOU (1974) B-   This record was the unfortunate victim of overly-high expectations and had the unenviable task of following one of the more mammoth and iconic albums in Rock history, thus it was unmercifully slagged by critics and fans alike. Honestly, anything Elton would’ve put out on the heels of Yellow Brick Road would’ve been viewed as a letdown (even say, Don’t Shoot Me or Honky Chateau), thus I have a soft spot for Caribou, and have always thought it got short-shrifted. It probably also didn’t help the perception of Caribou that the album’s cover photo and inside sleeve art/photography were extremely bland and Spartan compared to its elaborate above-and-beyond-the-call predecessor. But you certainly can’t fault its lead-off cut, "The Bitch Is Back", one of my all-time favorite songs by anyone, period (not just Elton), as I’ve always been keen on songs with profanity in them! The next track, a love song named "Pinky", is way more romantic than the overrated (in my opinion) "Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me", which yielded Caribou its biggest hit. Other tracks I liked include the rollicking "You’re So Static", which closed out Side 1 (back when albums had sides, remember, kids?) and "I’ve Seen The Saucers"—sort of "Rocket Man—Episode II", as well as the goofy "Solar Prestige A Gammon", a silly attempt at nonsense Italian-sounding lyrics (a la The Beatles’ "Sun King") that could pass as the backing track on some European TV deodorant commercial. Granted, there were clunkers on Caribou, namely "Stinker", (which lives up to its title while Elton tries to sing Da Blooz) and the hap-hazard "Grimsby", which could’ve stood a bit more fleshing out. Two other tracks from Caribou have resurfaced on Elton’s concert set list over the years, "Dixie Lily", a fun and twangy salute to the Mississippi Delta, and the poignant, chilling (and TOTALLY underrated) "Ticking", which closes the record. Featuring Elton soloing on piano, and a hint of Dave Hentschel’s synthesizer underneath, "Ticking" vividly captures the sad tale of a tortured soul who goes on a shooting spree that presages Columbine, Virginia Tech and the more recent Aurora and Sandy Hook tragedies. I still defend Caribou to this day—it could’ve been better, sure, but it isn’t nearly as bad as everyone thinks.

14) HERE AND THERE (1976) B- for the original (A for the 1995 re-issue)   Viewed by critics at the time as strictly a contractual obligation release in ‘76, Here And There was Elton’s first live concert album to feature his entire backing band, drummer Nigel Olsson, bassist Dee Murray, guitarist Davey Johnstone and percussionist Ray Cooper. And it’s pretty good stuff, for the most part. Side 1 (Here) features cuts from a May, 1974 London concert in front of the Royal Family and Side 2 (There) was recorded on Thanksgiving of ’74 in front of the Royal Crazies at Madison Square Garden in Gotham City. Although the recording is a bit flat-sounding (esp. on the MSG side), we get a fair taste of what Captain Fantastic sounded like performing his big hits in concert during his heyday. Too bad it was ONLY a taste. Imagine if they had fleshed things out and released a state-of-the-art double-live album in 1976 instead. I think it would’ve given Kiss Alive!, Bob Seger's Live Bullet and Frampton Comes Alive! a run for their money. Well, that wrong was partially righted 19 years later when Polygram re-issued H&T as an expanded double-CD with more tracks from both concerts, including the monumental three-song mini-set EJ played with John Lennon at The Garden ("Whatever Gets You Through The Night", "Lucy In The Sky" and "I Saw Her Standing There"), forever documenting what turned out to be the JL’s final performance on a concert stage. Other gems on the expanded version include "Grey Seal" from Yellow Brick Road, "Country Comfort" and "Burn Down The Mission" from Tumbleweed Connection and "You’re So Static" from Caribou (backed by the Muscle Shoals Horns) as well as classics which were omitted from the original vinyl release like "The Bitch Is Back", "Daniel" and "Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting". Hearing these makes me wish I’d been old enough to attended concerts (I was only ten at the time) so I could’ve seen and heard Elton in his prime.

13) TOO LOW FOR ZERO (1983) B-  Elton John completed the major comeback he embarked on in 1980 with 1983’s Too Low For Zero, which featured his biggest hits in over five years, the defiant declaration "I’m Still Standing" and the whimsical "I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues" (the videos for both of which turned out to be among his the best he’s ever done). The title track was also a minor hit, as was the rocking "Kiss The Bride", which even garnered some well-deserved airplay on Album Rock radio. Another cut I really liked is "Religion", which takes a little jab at the hypocrisy of people who are religious only when it’s convenient for them—"She’s a working girl who loves the Lord", "He still drinks, but he does believe…", etc. TLFZ also features a guest cameo appearance by Stevie Wonder on harmonica on "Cold As Christmas (In The Middle Of The Year)". Welcome back, Reg, we missed you!

12) JUMP UP! (1982) B-   Before that big comeback was complete, Elton took a major leap forward on 1982’s Jump Up!, which I remember slightly more fondly than Too Low, mostly because ’82 was the year I first saw EJ in concert, and he played numerous cuts from this one at Starlight Theater that night.  Jump Up! was also significant in that Elton righted a very egregious wrong by reuniting on record with his old rhythm section of Nigel Olsson and Dee Murray, whom he inexplicably jettisoned from the band in 1976—the biggest brain fart of E. John’s career this side of Victim Of Love, in my opinion. Guitarist Davey Johnstone returned as well for the subsequent tour ("after a little while playing with other biggies—like Meat Loaf," as Elton quipped onstage) and for the first time over six years, EJ put out a very focused and consistent effort here. Which is why I find Bernie Taupin’s 2010 comments on it rather baffling, as he called Jump Up! "one of our worst albums…it's a terrible, awful, disposable album, but it had 'Empty Garden' on it, so it's worth it for that one song." Then again, Taupin only co-wrote about half of this album with Elton, and apart from "Garden" and "Where Have All The Good Times Gone?", the weaker tracks were Bernie’s, while Gary Osborne co-authored the snappy opening cut "Dear John", the upbeat "Ball And Chain" (featuring one Peter Dennis Blandford Townshend guesting on acoustic guitar) and the sultry "Blue Eyes", a fine make-out song if there ever was one. "Empty Garden" was the centerpiece of the record, and was far and away the best and most poignant of all the John Lennon tribute songs, blowing away George Harrison’s "All Those Years Ago", Queen’s "Life Is Real (Song For Lennon)" and Paul McCartney’s "Here Today". Sorry Bernie, you’re full of shit—this was a damn good album.

[While I’m on the subject, I have a pet peeve about how on every Elton album since the mid-‘80s, their work is credited as "Music by Elton John/Lyrics by Taupin". That one-name crap sounds so damn snobby! Beethoven and Chopin might've gotten away with this, but you're still plain ol’ Bernie to me, Bud.  But I digress…]

11) TUMBLEWEED CONNECTION (1971) B-   Elton and Bernie continued with the highly-orchestral sound they utilized on the Elton John album, but made things a bit more up-tempo and even added some Country twang to create one of the more unconventional (and underrated) Rock albums of the early ‘70s. Olsson and Murray were now the official rhythm section on Tumbleweed, although session musicians were used throughout once again like on its predecessor, as was Paul Buckmaster’s string arrangements. Backing vocals on some songs were provided by my girl Dusty Springfield, as well as prolific utility man Tony Burrows, whose lead voice appeared on hit singles throughout the early ‘70s by Edison Lighthouse, First Class, the Pipkins, White Plains and Brotherhood Of Man. The songs on TC are a bit more interesting than that the ones on Elton John, which is why I rated it higher, especially Side 2, which leads off with the underrated gem "Where To Now, St. Peter?", featuring one of my favorite Bernie lyrics "I may not be a Christian, but I’ve done all one man can…". Next up is a cult favorite amongst longtime EJ fans, "Love Song", written (and harmonized) by Lesley Duncan, and I’ve always wondered why this wasn’t a hit single—it would’ve been the logical follow-up to "Your Song". The somewhat trippy "Amoreena" follows, and then we’re treated to the pseudo sequel to "Sixty Years On" with "Talking Old Soldiers", where Elton half-sings/half-speaks both parts of a bar room conversation about not growing old gracefully and being forgotten. An early EJ classic, "Burn Down The Mission", climaxes the album with some rollicking piano-pounding following its mid-tempo verses and choruses. Oh, and Side 1 didn’t suck either, featuring songs about fathers and guns (one at the same time, "My Father’s Gun") as it explored Bernie’s infatuation with the American old West and the Confederacy. It was clear by this time that EJ and BT were well on their way…

10) MADE IN ENGLAND (1995) B   To date, this is the last really solid album from start-to-finish that Elton has put out (in my opinion), and it built upon the momentum created by his 1992 drug-free return to form, The One. Still stone-cold sober, our good Captain opens the proceedings with "Believe", a dramatic, epic-sounding song that harkens back to the days of "Levon" with its powerful orchestral arrangement. Next up, the title track is both proud and defiant, and more or less a sequel to 1983’s "I’m Still Standing", and I loved the positive attitude, not to mention Davey Johnstone’s guitar, which we hear quite a bit of throughout the album. While I could’ve done without Elton and Bernie’s rather pointless (and contrived) gambit of single-word titles on all the songs except "Made In England", there’s plenty of good stuff here, particularly "Pain", which sonically resembles the Stones’ "Happy", and features Elton conducting a musical interview with Pain itself ("What’s your name?"/"My name is Pain"…"How old are you?"/"Nineteen-hundred and 94 years…"). "Lies" takes inventory of who doesn’t tell the truth and why—"I’ve lied for a drug or two…"—and "Please" is one of EJ’s more underrated love songs. There are a couple of clunkers here, like "House" ("This is my house/This is my floor", etc.)—come on, Bernie, you’re better than this! Thankfully, he didn’t get to "This is my toilet." The closing cut, "Blessed" turned out to be a minor hit, but it served as an omen that Elton was about to slip back into comfortable rut territory again, and sure enough, he did so on his next album The Big Picture.

9) BREAKING HEARTS (1984) B   Elton’s ‘80s comeback continued with yet another solid effort in 1984, Breaking Hearts, which features the classic Elton John Band of Johnstone/Olsson/Murray one last time. "Restless" leads off and got a fair amount of airplay on Album Rock stations, and I can easily identify with the line, "Everybody’s searching for something that just…ain't…there" in terms of my personal life. "Who Wears These Shoes?" was a catchy single, and "Slow Down Georgie (She’s Poison)" could’ve been one too. The silliest track on BH was "Passengers" with its call-and-response mob vocals, but I always liked it. I especially liked two others that were opposite ends of the spectrum—"Li’l Frigerator", a punchy rocker that sounded even better live in concert in ’84, and "In Neon", a slow and dramatic ballad that should’ve been a hit. The song that WAS a big hit, "Sad Songs (Say So Much)" didn’t really honk my hooter that much, and really lost its luster with me when the Sasson jeans people commandeered the song for their TV commercials ("Sasson says so much"—oy!). Overall, though, Breaking Hearts is good stuff.

8) 11-17-70 (1971) B   Another EJ release the critics bashed (but since when do I care what they think?), this one makes my Top 10 on pure chutzpah alone. When Elton first hit this side of the Big Pond in late 1970, he toured only with Nigel Olsson and Dee Murray, almost two years before Davey Johnstone rounded out the classic Elton John Band. Piano, bass and drums made for an odd musical combo indeed, but this unlikely power trio somehow made it work (and STILL rocked out, no less) throughout that tour, including a stop at New York’s A&R Studios to play a live radio concert that went out nationwide on November 17, 1970. The Dynamic Trio almost brought the house down for the hundred or so assembled, playing nearly 90 minutes, half of which was included on this album that originally was never intended for release. Elton himself was loathe to put it out at the time (although he has since praised it in retrospect), but MCA/Uni Records was getting paranoid about bootlegs of the show reaching the market, so they released 11-17-70 (or 17-11-70, for those of you who drive on the wrong side of the road) in the spring of ’71, almost literally on the heels of Tumbleweed Connection and the Friends soundtrack and while "Your Song" was still hanging around the Top 40, creating a sudden glut of E. John product. Surprisingly, "Your Song" wasn’t included in 11-17-70, but the obscure "Bad Side Of The Moon" made up for that, as did "Can I Put You On?" (from Friends), and it blows its studio version away. So does "Sixty Years On", which I thought actually sounded more dramatic without the strings on the studio version. Humor was evident in EJ’s cover of the Stones’ "Honky Tonk Women" on Side 1, as well as Arthur Crudup’s "My Baby Left Me" sandwiched inside the medley on Side 2 that begins with a killer rendition of "Burn Down The Mission" and ends with The Beatles’ "Get Back". "Amoreena" was added as a bonus track to a CD re-issue in the mid-‘90s, but the rest of show has not been made available (to my knowledge). I’d love to hear the rest of it someday. It’s a fun show to listen to, and a crucial document of Mr. John’s early days—if he went down that well with an audience then, just imagine what adding a guitar player would do. Oh, wait, we don’t have to!

7) ROCK OF THE WESTIES (1975) B   According to the His Song book by Elizabeth Rosenthal, it seems that Elton and the boys were a little drunky-wunky and/or high on various substances at Colorado’s Caribou Ranch during the making of Westies, thus leading the author to declare it to be a substandard EJ album. I would beg to differ—not unlike Caribou, I think this one gets dissed far too much and I always liked it. If it’s true that the record was made under a cloud of drugs and booze, then it turned out amazingly well. Elton expressed a desire to work with other musicians at that point, hence his dim-witted (in my opinion) decision to dismiss Nigel Olsson and Dee Murray from the band. Nigel was looking to build a solo career at the time anyway, so it was no biggie for him, but Murray was understandably none too pleased at being kicked to the curb for no good reason. To replace them, Elton brought in drummer Roger Pope (who worked previously on Empty Sky, Elton John and Tumbleweed), and bassist Kenny Passarelli (who suddenly found himself unemployed when Joe Walsh joined The Eagles in late ’75) as his new rhythm section. Guitarist Caleb Quaye (also a previous contributor to Elton’s early records) and keyboardist James Newton Howard came aboard as well, joining holdovers Davey Johnstone and Ray Cooper, and this lineup would return for Blue Moves before Elton again "split the band", as a certain song goes.

As for the album itself, like Captain Fantastic before it, Westies wasn’t chuck-full of hit singles, but I thought it had some fun stuff on it anyway. "Island Girl" actually did hit #1, but that had more to do with the inertia of Elton’s career than the merits of the song. It’s not a bad song at all, mind you, but hasn’t aged very well, and you don’t even hear it on Oldies stations anymore. The opening track, "Medley: Yell Help/Wednesday Night/Ugly", was rather oddball, but has its moments, as does "Dan Dare (Pilot Of The Future)" with its double-entendre lyric, "Holy Cow—my stars never saw a rocket that quite that size…" (silly Elton!). The next two tracks that finish out Side 1 are my favorites from ROTW, despite being polar opposites. "Grow Some Funk Of Your Own" features a snarly guitar riff and Ray Cooper on vibes and marimba throughout the end of this tale about a night of misadventure south of the border. Meanwhile perhaps the most underrated John-Taupin song ever, "I Feel Like A Bullet (In The Gun Of Robert Ford)", finds Elton wailing away in falsetto mode on some of Bernie’s most poignant and sad lyrics about a relationship turned sour ("Like a child when his toys have been stepped on/That’s how it all seems to me…"), while Davey’s beautifully weepy guitar solo further emphasizes the despair. Robert Ford, btw, is the man who shot legendary outlaw Jesse James, hence the title. Side 2 opens when one of Elton’s heavier tunes, "Street Kids", featuring his skittering keyboard flashes laid over Johnstone and Quaye’s guitar chords. "Hard Luck Story" is all about a frustrated working stiff and features backing vocals from Kiki Dee and company. "Feed Me" continues the general theme of desperation found on ‘Westies’ that "Robert Ford" initiates, and the album closes with the spirited (if not non-sensical) "Billy Bones And The White Bird". Critics were generally not keen to ‘Westies’, but it’s one of my favorites from Elton, thus it makes my Top 10.

6) THE ONE (1992) B+   After several years of inconsistent albums, drug abuse and throat issues, Elton Hercules John was born-again hard for easily his best studio album since his mid-’70s heyday, The One. Gone were any hints of a comfortable rut—each song sounded different from the others, as EJ rediscovered his musical scrotum and put out something truly memorable for a change. The sultry "Simple Life" kicks things off with a slinky bass groove (provided by future Who bassist Pino Palladino), and some fine harmonica as clean-and-sober, fit-and-trim Elton brings us up to speed on where his life was headed at that point. It’s not a bad make-out song, btw, and one almost wishes EJ had stretched this one out a bit longer than five minutes. The title track immediately follows, and is one of his best love songs ever. Eric Clapton makes a guest appearance on another of the album’s highlights, duetting on "Runaway Train", giving one of his better vocal efforts that I can recall. The twangy "Whitewash County" would’ve fit right in on Tumbleweed Connection (or maybe even the My Cousin Vinny soundtrack), as it takes a pot shot at redneck authority figure hypocrisy in that part of the U.S. where it’s "sticky as a chili-dog". The title subject of "Emily" is sort of a ’90s "Eleanor Rigby" (minus the cellos) and "The North" is a bit of an overlooked gem, all about how most everyone has vices they need to overcome. The album closes, appropriately, with the touching and poignant "The Last Song", all about a gay man dying of AIDS and reconciling with his estranged dad, and Bernie Taupin drives the point home with the line "I guess I misjudged love between a father and his son." Well done, indeed.

4) [Tie] HONKY CHATEAU (1972) A-   Elton John’s unprecedented mid-‘70s chart dominance truly began with Honky Chateau in the spring of ’72. This was also the first album on which the nucleus of Johnstone, Olsson and Murray played predominately, and HC of course includes the big hits "Honky Cat" and "Rocket Man". Both great songs and among Elton’s most-beloved, but as good as those were, I’m even more partial to the "B-stuff" found on Honky, like "I Think I’m Gonna Kill Myself", the funniest song I’ve ever heard about suicide (right up there with John Entwistle’s "Thinkin’ It Over" and Cheap Trick's "Auf Wiedersehen"), and the equally-funny and more-romping "Hercules", which closes the album ("Rich man, sweatin’ in a sauna bath/Poor boy, scrubbin’ in a tub…"). Elton continued to express his love for Country twang on "Slave", and followed it with the rocking "Amy", which features a guest appearance by Jean-Luc Ponty and his electric violin (I never knew there was such an animal), as does the mellow "Mellow" on Side One. The slower songs on this album actually work just as well as the rockers, with "Mona Lisas And Mad Hatters" painting a rather bleak portrait of Gotham City as viewed through the eyes of a first-time visitor (B. Taupin, in this case) and the Gospel-tinged "Salvation" features some outstanding backing vocals. The avalanche had begun…

4) [Tie] MADMAN ACROSS THE WATER (1971) A-  Before Honky, there was Madman, which is every bit as good, but just didn’t sell quite as much. I couldn’t choose which one I like better, so it’s a flat-footed tie. MATW was the last time Elton relied heavily on Paul Buckmaster’s orchestral arrangements for a while, and this album wouldn’t have been as good without them. Elton also continued the new trend he initiated on Tumbleweed by including an elaborate lyric and photo booklet. As with Honky, you had the two big and well-loved Elton hits ("Levon" and "Tiny Dancer"), both of which I like as much as anyone, but it’s the B-stuff again that I like even more here. "Holiday Inn" may well be the penultimate Rock ‘N’ Roll road song ("Boston, at last, and the plane’s touchin’ down/From a terminal gate, to a black limousine …You ain’t seen nothin’, ‘till you been in a motel, baby, like a Holiday Inn…"). "HI" marked Davey Johnstone’s debut on an E. John record, playing mandolin on the track, and I love the way after the choruses how Buckmaster’s strings and Elton’s piano sound almost like on-coming semi-trucks passing by on the highway. The dramatic "Indian Sunet" opens Side Two with an epic tale of tragedy and further exploration of the American Old West, which fascinated Bernie Taupin no end. "Rotten Peaches" almost has you picturing Reg Dwight as some sort of fugitive from justice, and the haunting "All The Nasties" takes dead aim at music critics and journalists "But I know the way they want me in the way they publicize/If they could turn their focus off/To the image in their eyes/Maybe it would help them, help them understand…" And then of course, there's the brooding and spooky title track.  About the only track that didn’t work for me here was the brief postscript "Goodbye", which seemed like a throwaway afterthought a la The Beatles' "Her Majesty" on Abbey Road.

3) DON’T SHOOT ME, I’M ONLY THE PIANO PLAYER (1973) A   Possessing one of my favorite album titles and covers ever, this one rated high with me before I ever heard a note from it. Just as with Madman and Honky before it, the "B-stuff" is every bit as good as the "A-stuff" ("Crocodile Rock" and "Daniel"), and so much of this album is underrated, especially "Teacher, I Need You", "Elderberry Wine", "Midnight Creeper", "Have Mercy On The Criminal" and the closer "High-Flying Bird". Elton thought highly enough of these cuts to dust some of them off and play them in concert over the years, like "Teacher" in 1982, "Criminal" in 1986 and "High-Flying" in 2007—that shows how DEEP this man’s catalog goes. "Teacher" is the upbeat tale of a schoolboy crush on a hot teacher (I think we all had those at least once), while "Elderberry" is a fun salute to alcohol—the cause of (and solution to) all of life’s problems. In "Creeper", EJ does a little name-dropping ("Tina Turner gave me the highway blues…") and keeps his mind in the gutter throughout the track, which is one of the hornier Elton songs (musically, I mean) of all-time. "Criminal" begins with a dramatic orchestral flourish featuring some call-and-response between the strings and Elton’s piano before settling down to become a mid-tempo sequel to "Rotten Peaches", all about another convict on the lam. One of the prettiest and most moving songs Elton has ever done is "High-Flying Bird", all about grief and loss ("My high-flying bird has flown from out my arms…"), and it features some of the finest backing vocals ever from Davey, Dee and Nigel—I’m not sure why this song isn’t held in higher regard. The sitar-laden "Blues For Baby And Me" has actually grown on me over the years (even though I loathe sitars), as has "I’ll Be A Teenage Idol". About the only cut that didn’t work for me on Don’t Shoot Me is "Texan Love Song", which is anything but a love song. DSMIOTPP was released 40 years ago last month—amazing how fresh it still sounds today. But as good as it is, Elton’s next release was even better…

2) CAPTAIN FANTASTIC & THE BROWN DIRT COWBOY (1975) A   Not so long ago on MSNBC’s website, they had a feature called "The Worst Album By Great Artists" (or something like that), and Captain Fantastic was Elton’s entry for it. Then some fool writes three paragraphs of excrement about how bad it was. Surely, you jest. I have no doubt that person was born after the record came out and probably never even took the time to listen to it. True, CF&TBDC wasn’t chuck-full of hits like Mr. John’s previous efforts—only "Someone Saved My Life Tonight" charted—but it’s one of the most consistent albums Elton ever made, and is more enjoyable when listened to from start to finish, and it’s always been one of my favorites. Because it was an autobiographical concept album, for the first time, Elton and Bernie created songs together instead of their usual process of Taupin writing the lyrics first before handing them over to EJ to compose the music. It was also the final time we got to hear the Johnstone/Olsson/Murray/Cooper backing band at work prior to EJ’s super-mega brain-fart of splitting this prolific unit up. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, dummy! Anyway, the album opens with the title track, which is alternately optimistic and foreboding at the same time ("We’ve thrown in the towel too many times/Out for the count, and then we’re down"..."From now on sonny, sonny, son—it’s a long and lonely climb…"). My favorite tracks from Captain include "Bitter Fingers", "(Gotta Get A) Meal Ticket", "Writing" and the poignant finale "Curtains", but honestly, there's not a bad one to be found here. Extra credit also goes for the elaborate cover painting (front and back) as well as the not one, but two full-color booklets that were enclosed in the package.

1) GOODBYE YELLOW BRICK ROAD (1973) A+++  Anti-climactic, I know, since I gave this away in the intro, but this is the greatest Rock album I've ever heard, the reasons for which I cite here in a post I wrote in 2007.  Overall, a salute to Sir Elton from the middle-aged man in the 22nd row...  

That Cat Named Hercules, Part I

Being as Elton John is tied for #2 with The Who on my all-time favorite Rock group/artist list (2A and 2B behind Kiss, essentially), I’m surprised I’ve never done an official blog tribute to Captain Fantastic, as his music is as big a part of the soundtrack to my life as anyone’s.  I paid tribute to Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and the first time I ever saw Sir Elton in concert in previous posts, and now I feel compelled to do a more complete job after finishing a wonderful book by Elizabeth J. Rosenthal called His Song.  In her book, Rosenthal chronicles both Elton’s personal life and his music, with very comprehensive details about the inspiration for and recording of virtually each and every song from all of his albums through 2001 when the book was published.  Ms. Rosenthal also did a much better job of covering Elton’s personal life than any other biographies I’ve read on him, and I learned way more about that "Cat named Hercules" than ever before.

So, I decided to rank all of EJ’s albums from worst-to-first, similar to what I did with Kiss a couple years ago.  I cover all of his studio releases and official live albums, but omitted any greatest hits and compilation albums (Love Songs, for instance), as well as the 1994 Duets CD, which I didn’t really think was relevant (nor did I much care for it!) and the 1991 Two Rooms tribute CD, which Elton didn’t actually participate on.  I think I’m pretty kind to Elton too—only two of the 35 albums received less than a C-minus from me.  And I think you can pretty much already guess which album is #1, but my other rankings might surprise you a bit.

On with the countdown…

35) VICTIM OF LOVE (1979) F   One of the dangers of the type of superstardom Elton John achieved is he was able to indulge himself in anything he damn well pleased by the late ‘70s.   EJ was/is a fan of all different types of music, which is well-reflected in his overall musical catalog, everything from Country to Gospel to edgy Rock to R&B, and in 1979, he got the urge to do a Disco album—never mind that Disco was already passé and on its way to a very timely death by that time.   This is the only Elton John album on which he doesn’t play a note—he chose to merely sing on it and more or less just phoned that in.   The only halfway-inspired track was "Street Boogie", but like most Disco songs, it gets boring after the first three minutes.   And a Disco version of Chuck Berry’s "Johnny B. Goode"?   Sacrilege.   Even Sir Elton himself now freely admits Victim was a soulless turd, and he had reached the nadir of his career.   Happily, things improved steadily after that…

34) LEATHER JACKETS (1986) D+   EJ has similar feelings toward Leather Jackets, which he has deemed his least-favorite of everything he’s ever put out.  This one came out while Elton was in one of his creative "comfortable ruts" during which all the songs kinda sounded the same.   The only thing that saved Jackets from receiving an F from me was "Go It Alone", an underrated favorite of mine featuring a catchy riff and some edge from Davey Johnstone’s guitar.  The rest of it is pretty much half-hearted excrement, including the single "Heartache All Over The World".   It also didn’t help that Johnstone, lyricist Bernie Taupin and the rest of Elton’s band at the time are featured on the back cover posing in leather and/or seated on motorcycles looking like a bunch of third-rate Fonzies performing in Branson.  Just a very ill-starred effort from someone I’ve come to expect much better from.

33) THE COMPLETE THOM BELL SESSIONS (1978) C-
I hesitated even including it on the list, since it’s not really a full-length album, and I may be a bit harsh giving this one a C-.   I truly enjoy some good Soul/R&B music now and then—when it’s done by black guys, that is.   When a white dude attempts it, the results are usually unsatisfying.   "Mama Can’t Buy Your Love" was a fair-sized hit for Elton, but I just never grooved to Thom Bell, and was getting frustrated with John’s inconsistency in the late ‘70s following his halcyon days.   I will say this, though—Thom Bell was way better than the Disco album Captain Mediocre put out next (see #35 above).

32) 21 At 33 (1980) C-   Elton was still making his way back out of the musical wilderness in 1980, following three years of unfocused mediocrity and substandard releases (two of which I just covered), and 21 At 33 reflects the baby steps he was taking after briefly reconnecting with Taupin following their unplanned sabbatical from collaborating with one another.  "Little Jeannie" yielded John’s first legitimate hit in quite a while, but it always came across to me as kinda wussy-sounding.   About the only other noteworthy tracks were "Chasing The Crown" and "White Lady, White Powder", the latter half of which Elton had been indulging too much in during that period.   Even the title confounded me for the longest time—it was supposed to signifying his 21st album at age 33, but every time I tried to tally up his album catalog, I kept coming up with 20, greatest hits packages and live albums included. I didn’t realize it referred to his British releases, which had more compilations and such than his US stuff did.   Overall, a rather forgettable album, but at least it was a step in the right direction, considering where Elton had been wallowing the past few years prior to it.

31) ICE ON FIRE (1985) C-   Elton’s momentum stalled on this album following his wonderful early ‘80s comeback, and it heralded yet another "comfortable rut" he found himself in where most of the songs sounded too similar.  True, Ice On Fire yielded two hits, "Nikita" and "Wrap Her Up", but this album as a whole lived up to the first half of its title with me—it sounded too cold and plastic most of the time.   Even the cover photo seemed cool and distant, which featured Elton looking like a snooty aristocrat (as he also did on A Single Man in '78).   The video for "Wrap Her Up" featured a mulleted Elton duetting with George Michael—two renowned gay men inanely singing the praises of famous women—meh.   Far and away this album’s saving grace is the forgotten gem "Act Of War", a comic duet with R&B siren Millie Jackson, and one of my all-time favorite "fuck you" songs.  Featuring a Davey Johnstone guitar riff that sounded dangerously close to Glenn Frey’s "The Heat Is On" (also on the charts long about the same time) this track wasn’t even available on vinyl copies of IOF (only as a bonus track on cassettes and these new things called compact discs, which had just hit the marketplace in ‘85), but it blew away everything else on the album (pun intended).   Elton originally had Tina Turner in mind for the song, but she politely passed, so Jackson joined the melee instead, and almost sounded (and in the video kinda looked like) RuPaul in places.   "We’re living on the front line, you and me/Fightin’ on this battleground of misery/Oh, go ahead/Bring the artillery, and we’ll make this an act of war!"


30) THE BIG PICTURE (1997) C-   Mr. Taupin cites this release his least favorite of all his collaborations with Sir Elton.   EJ had slipped back into another comfortable rut at that point, following his 1990s comeback that featured two of his strongest albums in many years back-to-back, 1992’s The One and 1995’s Made In England.   TBP isn’t all that bad an album really, but it features way more slow-tempo tracks than its immediate predecessors, and sadly, doesn’t really wake up from its slumber until the closing song, "Wicked Dreams".  Apart from the somewhat-predictable hit single "There’s Something About The Way You Look Tonight" and a personal lyrical favorite of mine, "Recover Your Soul", there isn’t anything terribly memorable about The Big Picture, which was also overshadowed by the world-record selling "Candle In The Wind ‘97" and the tragic event which triggered it. 

29) FRIENDS (Soundtrack) (1971)  C   Elton and Bernie’s songwriting partnership was still in the formative stages at this point, but this wasn’t a bad effort for relative newcomers to the music scene, and the album was actually better than the movie it came from.   I contemplated giving Friends an incomplete grade instead of C since it’s not all Elton and Bernie here, as parts of the record feature orchestral instrumentals by Paul Buckmaster, who worked on several E. John albums in the early ‘70s.   The title track, a minor hit, is a bit of a forgotten gem here, as was "Can I Put You On"?, an underrated Elton classic which merely served as incidental background music on a radio in the film, but was a real showstopper when he rocked the house with it during his live act at that time.

28) PEACHTREE ROAD (2004) C   Comfortable rut time again, but this one wasn’t quite so bad. This album had a Country tinge to it similar to 1971’s Tumbleweed Connection, and it had some decent tracks on it like the pseudo Elvis tribute "Porch Swing In Tupelo" and the somewhat-personal "Weight Of The World".

27) SONGS FROM THE WEST COAST (2001) C   Not sure what the significance of the album title is, but Peachtree’s comfortable rut actually originated on this album, where Elton became more piano-oriented again.  Nothing wrong with that, but I’ve always been more partial to Elton’s albums that have a mix of guitar and piano, so a little more 6-string magic here from Davey Johnstone would’ve enhanced things a skosh.   Nonetheless, the songs are a bit more memorable than Peachtree, especially "American Triangle", all about the hate-crime murder of gay Wyoming student Matthew Shepard.   I liked "Look Ma, No Hands", "This Train Don’t Stop Here Anymore", "Dark Diamond" and "Emperor’s New Clothes", as well. 

26) THE CAPTAIN & THE KID (2006) C   The comfortable rut continued with Elton and Bernie’s pseudo sequel to Captain Fantastic & The Brown Dirt Cowboy 31 years hence.   Once again, very piano-oriented, the tune on the title track for this Captain sounds almost identical to the one from the original Captain, only it has different lyrics and comes at the end instead of being the leadoff hitter.   "The Bridge", "Postcards From Richard Nixon" were the other standout tracks, as was a nice EJ tribute to New York City, "Wouldn’t Have You Any Other Way".   Still, there seemed to be that nagging sameness to the material here that bogs things down.   I realize Elton is older, wiser and drug-free now, but I’d still like to see him rock out a bit more than he has in recent years.

25) A SINGLE MAN (1978) C   The bottom had to fall out sometime—Elton had such an unprecedented rise to stardom in the ‘70s, but even he couldn’t keep it going.  A creative rest might’ve suited him better, but record companies being as they are, MCA demanded more product, and for the first time since his early days, EJ’s magic touch just wasn’t there.   Everything seemed different here, right down to Elton ditching his (in)famous trademark crazy eyewear in favor of contact lenses for the cover photo (as well as getting his right ear pierced), and ASM also marked Elton’s first recording without songwriting partner Bernie Taupin, and it showed.   Most of the album was co-written with Gary Osborne, and it’s not that the album totally sucked, but it wasn’t all that memorable, either, even with highlights like the pleasingly-apathetic "I Don’t Care", the mostly-instrumental "Song For Guy" and the single "Part-Time Love".   EJ’s trek through the musical wilderness had begun…

24) SLEEPING WITH THE PAST (1989) C   This was E. John’s final studio album recorded under the cloud of alcohol and drugs.   It’s surprising this one turned out as well as it did, considering that Elton’s personal life was a train wreck, he was overweight—"as big as Luther Vandross at his worst", he later admitted—and he had bleached white hair, which made him look 20 years older than he truly was.  Hell, he could've doubled for Truman Capote!  He went for a mostly R&B sound on SWTP, "Healing Hands" being the centerpiece, while "Club At The End Of The Street" was kinda funky, and "Sacrifice" wound up being a surprise hit, especially in England, where it became EJ’s first #1 in his homeland.  The real hidden gem is the beautiful closer, "Blue Avenue".  It’s not a bad album, I suppose, but just not a big EJ favorite of mine, for some reason.

23) THE UNION (w/Leon Russell) (2011) C   Brother Leon is one of Elton’s idols, but I can’t fathom a more unlikely duo, given their divergent musical and vocal styles, not to mention their looks.  Critics went ape-shit over this album, and it’s great for the type of music it is, I suppose, but for some reason it doesn’t blow me away like it did the critics.  Leon sounds way too much like Willie Nelson here and practically looked like an invalid in the making-of documentary, so it appears Elton did all the heavy lifting, although the closing track, "In The Arms Of The Angels" features only Russell singing very poignantly and moving Elton to tears in the studio as he recorded it.   "Monkey Suit" and the bluesy opening cut "If It Wasn’t For Bad You’d Be Good" are standouts, and at least it sounded like these two enjoyed working together. Coulda used a bit more guitar for my liking, though.  More cowbell, too…

22) LIVE IN AUSTRALIA (1987) C+   Touring with the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra during a mightily successful trek through Oz in 1986 was a brilliant masterstroke, considering how many of Elton’s early recordings contained string arrangements and this double live album would’ve made a wonderful souvenir thereof—IF Elton’s voice hadn’t been torn to shreds by that time.  He would soon opt to have surgery to remove polyps from his vocal chords, but throughout most of this record, he sounded more like Redd Foxx than Captain Fantastic.  "Candle In The Wind" even resurfaced here as a hit single, but between Elton’s hoarseness and the dour instrumentation, it came off more like a dirge than a celebration of Marilyn Monroe—give me the Yellow Brick Road original any day.  Still, the rest of the album contained highlights like the underrated "Have Mercy On The Criminal" (from Don’t Shoot Me), "Take Me To The Pilot" and "Madman Across The Water".  My grade would be substantially higher if Elton’s voice had been in top form.

21) ONE NIGHT ONLY: THE GREATEST HITS (2000) C+   As great a performer as Elton John is, he has yet to put out a truly quintessential live concert album.  The expanded re-release of Here And There probably comes the closest (read on in Part II), and this one isn’t bad, but there just seems to be something missing here.  One Night is career-spanning, giving us the first "official" live versions of "Philadelphia Freedom" and the thumping "I’m Still Standing", as well as Elton’s more recent hits like "Can You Feel The Love Tonight" and "Sacrifice", and it was also wonderful to have longtime drummer Nigel Olsson back behind the skins once again.  Elton doesn’t even try to do the falsetto "La la la la la’s" on "Crocodile Rock" anymore, but it still rocks out, as does "Bennie & The Jets".  Still, apart from Kiki Dee in her rightful place duetting on "Don’t Go Breaking My Heart", I honestly could’ve done without the guest singers featured throughout the album, especially Mary J. Bilge-water ("Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me") and Anesthesia—er uh, Anastacia caterwauling on "Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting", which sounds totally silly with a woman singing it.  My other issue here is apart from introducing his guests, they omitted most of Elton’s between-song on-stage patter, which often can be as fun and entertaining as the songs themselves.  Overall, not a bad live release, but this could’ve been way better with a little tweaking…

20) BLUE MOVES (1976) C+   Critically-acclaimed for the most part, this one just always left me a bit flat, but you can attribute that to my own overly-high expectations for Blue Moves. When I heard Elton John was making another double-album in ‘76, visions of Goodbye Yellow Brick Road II danced in my 12-year-old head, but such was not to be.  As with most double-albums from the ‘60s and ‘70s that weren’t concept records like Tommy, Quadrophenia, The Wall, et al, you could lop off the filler tracks and create a pretty decent single-album with Blue Moves.  Just as the case was with the Stones’ Exile On Main Street, The Beatles’ White Album and Jimi Hendrix’ Electric Ladyland, I thought BM had too many throwaway songs that would normally not have made the cut on an Elton John record, to wit:  Bigger ain’t necessarily better!  Which is not to say there isn’t some good stuff here—"One Horse Town" and "Crazy Water" are two VERY underrated EJ cuts, "Shoulder Holster" has really grown on me over the years, especially Elton’s vocal on it, and even the Disco romp "Bite Your Lip (Get Up And Dance!)" is fairly tolerable.  We even get three rare instrumentals from Elton here:  "Your Starter For…", which segues into the 8:00-long "Tonight", "Out Of The Blue", which meanders around for over six funky minutes, and "Theme From A Non-Existent TV Series", which doesn’t even last a minute-and-a-half, but still gets its point across.  "Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word" was the big hit from Moves, but I’ve always found it as depressing as Mr. John’s receding hairline was in the video for it at the time.  Elton has often cited Blue Moves as one of his personal favorites.  Sorry I can’t say the same, although it did have its moments.

19) THE FOX (1981) C+   The baby steps of Elton’s early-‘80s return-to-form got a little bigger on The Fox, his first release on the Geffen label after leaving MCA Records in 1980.  Working more and more with Bernie Taupin again following their unintentional (but probably necessary) hiatus, Elton was beginning to sound like Elton again, on songs like "Heels Of The Wind" and the title track, which closes the album.  The tracks he collaborated on with other songwriters were also quite good, particularly "Chloe", composed by Gary Osborne, whom he’d worked with off-and-on since A Single Man.  That song sounded especially good when Sir Elton played it live on tour in 1982.  The lead-off track, "Breaking Down Barriers", also co-written with Osborne, sounded much more confident and assertive than the wimpy "Little Jeannie" from the year before, and EJ gives his falsetto its best workout since 1975’s "I Feel Like A Bullet (In The Gun Of Robert Ford)".  The most controversial track, "Elton’s Song", was co-written with openly-gay singer-songwriter Tom Robinson, all about a schoolboy crush on another schoolboy, and it took a fair amount of balls on Elton’s part to put it on his record.  For the record, I’ve never had a problem with Elton’s homosexuality and I’ve always admired his honesty and forthrightness about it.  As for the album, Elton was definitely back on the right track at this point…

18) EMPTY SKY (1969) C+   Many folks think 1970’s Elton John is his debut album.  Guess again.  After numerous failed singles circa. 1968-69, Empty Sky was the first official album from Reginald Kenneth Dwight of Pinner, Middlesex, England.  It was only available in Europe until re-issued by MCA in the summer of 1975 (with a different cover) during the height of Elton’s chart dominance.  Although he sounded like the rookie he was in places, Sky is still very listenable and not a bad effort for the first go-‘round.  The lead-off title track clocks in at 8.5 minutes, but holds one’s interest throughout, and Elton almost (intentionally) sounds like Mick Jagger at times.  "Skyline Pigeon" could’ve been a big hit with a bit more backing from the record company, and is one of the first truly memorable John-Taupin compositions.  "Western Ford Gateway" explores the life of vagrants and "Lady What’s Tomorrow" concerns itself with the environment without getting preachy.  "Gulliver" is the sad tale of a dying dog, and it segues into the smart-assedly titled "Hay Chewed", which actually re-caps the entire album with snippets from every song and some trippy late ‘60s feedback to boot.  ES only sold modestly, but Elton at least got to experience what making an album was like and still put out something he could be proud of. 

Kings Without A Throne

I’ve taken yet another trip back in the past during my latest pet project, as I’ve been compiling a data base on the history of the Kansas City Kings bassit-ball franchise the last couple months. It’s easy to think of the Kings as a losing team, but looking back, I’d forgotten that they were indeed a very competitive squad for about a four-year span in the late ‘70s/early ‘80s. Unfortunately, unstable ownership and an inept front office doomed that team to infamy and they wound up moving to Sacramento, California in 1985, only to repeat many of the same mistakes they made here, and they may well be on the move once again pretty soon to Seattle. So, here’s a little tribute to K.C.’s lone NBA franchise that spent 13 seasons here…

Kansas City was actually intended to house one of the original American Basketball Association teams in 1967, but at the last minute, they pulled up stakes and landed in Colorado to become the Denver Rockets and are now known as the Nuggets. Five years later, the Cincinnati Royals were struggling both at the box office as well as on the court, and opted to move west. The team had already relocated once before, having started in the ‘50s in Rochester, NY (also known as "Royals"), and Kansas City was their first choice, but there was one little problem. Even though Municipal Auditorium was/is a venerable basketball venue, availability was a major issue for sizeable hunks of the season because of events like the Ringling Bros. circus and the Ice Capades, et al, and various annual conventions and trade shows the building also hosted in its exhibition hall (in the days before Bartle Hall opened next door), as well as concerts and operas that were staged in the adjoining Little Theater and Music Hall. Kemper Arena was still two years away from opening as well, and there were no other suitable venues in Kansas City to house the team on nights when The Aud was booked, apart from perhaps The American Royal Arena where the Kansas City Blues minor league hockey team played, but it only held about 5,000 fans, well below NBA standards.

Royals ownership took a cue from several ABA clubs who during the early ‘70s were "regional" franchises, staging their home games in multiple cities, like the Carolina Cougars (Greensville/Raleigh/Charlotte/Winston-Salem), Virginia Squires (Norfolk/Hampton/Richmond/Roanoke) and Texas Chaparrals (Dallas/Lubbock/Ft. Worth), so they decided to play about a third of their home games three hours away from K.C. in Nebraska at Omaha's 10,000-seat Civic Auditorium. Bad idea. Kansas Citians were none too crazy about having to share their NBA team with another city and it speaks volumes that the first game in Kings history took place in Omaha instead of Kansas City on October 19, 1972. This team got off on the wrong foot with this town and never fully righted itself in the 13 years it spent here. And, oh by the way, the top six smallest regular season home crowds in K.C. Kings history were in Omaha.

There was also another little problem: Kansas City already had a baseball team called the Royals (as did Omaha, K.C.'s minor-league AAA affiliate), so the basketball team was re-christened the "Kansas City-Omaha Kings". The team kept its basic color scheme of blue and white with red trim, merely altering their script name "ROYALS" into "KINGS", and also retaining their rather unique uniform feature from the Cincinnati days of placing the player’s surname BELOW the numbers on the backs of their jerseys (see left). The Cincinnati Reds also did this in the early ‘50s and the Royals co-opted this look for themselves and were the only NBA team to do so, although it’s common practice in the WNBA today and practical, since many female players have long hair, ponytails or dreadlocks that would shroud their name anyway. The "Kansas City-Omaha" moniker only lasted three seasons before it was shortened to just plain Kansas City Kings in the summer of ’75, following the team’s first season at Kemper Arena. 

Even with the truncated name, the team continued to play half-a-dozen games each season in Omaha through 1977-78, in part because Kemper was tied up for most of November every year with the annual American Royal Rodeo and most of March with the annual NAIA and Big 8 basketball tournaments. The Kings’ front-office didn’t have a clue how to market this team and were totally out-of-touch with their own fan base, and just when Kansas Citians thought they finally had the team all to themselves in ‘78, the Kings’ brain-trust came up with the not-so-bright idea of farming out some home games to St. Louis, of all places. And not just ANY home games, mind you, but major draws like Larry Bird’s Boston Celtics, Kareem and Magic’s "Showtime" L.A Lakers, as well as Dr. J’s Philadelphia 76ers. True, the Kings threw fans a bone by televising these games (as well as most of the Omaha games) back to K.C., but Kansas City already has a bad enough inferiority complex when it comes to St. Louis, so to have its NBA team playing to sometimes-packed houses in its arch-rival city against the league’s marquee franchises three or four times a season was just insulting and ultimately another nail in the team’s coffin. Oh, and then the roofed caved in—literally—at Kemper Arena on June 3, 1979 (see above), necessitating their temporary move back to Municipal Auditorium for two-thirds of the 1979-80 season. It wasn’t until 1980-81—nine years into their existence—that the Kings first played their entire home schedule in Kansas City in their actual HOME at Kemper.

NOTE: The NBA itself wasn’t exactly helpful in promoting the Kings, either. Their Sunday afternoon TV coverage on CBS in the mid-to-late ‘70s included numerous "regional" telecasts featuring the Kings, but we rarely ever got to see our own team on TV, not even during road games because they were almost always blacked-out locally. 

On the court, the Kings were a mixed bag. In their first season, the Kansas City-Omaha Kings were actually quite respectable, all things considered. Even though the roster was comprised mostly of holdovers from Cincinnati, the Kings seemed like an expansion franchise, but didn’t play like one, finishing 36-46, and they actually rose above the .500 mark midway through the season before a 7-game losing streak did them in.  Guard Nate "Tiny" Archibald had a ridiculously good year, setting team scoring records that still haven’t been broken and even landing on the cover of ‘SI’ (see left). Veterans like Matt Guokas, Sam Lacey, Nate Williams, Otto Moore and Jimmy Walker rounded out the roster in those early years, and rookies like Ron Riley, Mike Ratliff and Ken Durrett showed promise. Durrett, in particular, had the look of a star early on until he tore up a knee and was never the same afterward. The team slipped badly in ’73-‘74, leading to head coach Bob Cousy’s dismissal midway through. Cousy was a bit too arrogant to be a coach anyhow, and was replaced eventually by Phil Johnson, who led the Kings to their first playoff berth in ’74-’75. Three poor seasons ensued, Johnson was let go, then "King" Cotton Fitzsimmons took over as head coach in 1978, and he turned this team around in a hurry. The Kings raced to their first and only Midwest Division championship in 1978-79, led by fan-favorite Scott Wedman and rookie Otis Birdsong. Rookie Phil Ford out of North Carolina joined the Kings for the 79-80 season, and the Kings somehow muddled through their tenuous home court situation while Kemper Arena was re-roofed, going an impressive 21-7 at Municipal Auditorium in the interim before returning to the stockyards in February, 1980. That brief stint at "The Aud" also featured the infamous night when Darryl Dawkins of the 76ers shattered the backboard and scared the crap out of late Kings forward Bill Robinzine, who was directly underneath it and wound up picking shards of glass out of his hair for a week afterwards. The Kings finished with a winning record again that year, and just two games behind the Milwaukee Bucks in 2nd place in the Midwest Division.

Another problem that plagued the Kings was playing on the road. There were certain road venues this team couldn’t win at to save their souls, regardless of the quality of the competition at the time.  The MECCA in Milwaukee (4-24), Detroit’s Cobo Arena (3-14), the Philadelphia Spectrum (4-16) and even HemisFair Arena in San Antonio were all houses of horror for K.C., but the two worst of all by far were Portland's Memorial Coliseum and the Fabulous Forum in Los Angeles.  K.C. (and/or Omaha) went 5-27 in Portland in the regular season, which included losing streaks of 13 and 9 games, but ironically, the Kings won the two playoff games they played there.  As for L.A., beginning in 1974, the Kings went on an ignominious road losing streak vs. the Lakers that lasted well into the ‘90s that turned out to be an NBA record for most consecutive losses at a road venue. Granted, the Lakers were always a top-flight team, but surely the Kings should’ve gotten lucky and won there now and then. They came very close on a few occasions at the Forum, but the only other time the Kansas City Kings ever won again in the City of Angels was against the Clippers at L.A. Sports Arena.

The postseason was usually most unkind to the Kings also, as they were one-and-done the first three times they made the playoffs (once to Chicago and twice to Phoenix), but the 1981 playoffs were another story.   Following a mediocre 1980-81 regular season in which they went 40-42 and barely snuck into the playoffs on the last day of the regular season, the Kings shocked the Portland Trail Blazers in a three-game mini-series for their first playoff series win (winning two games ironically at the aforementioned Memorial Coliseum), then followed that up with a seven-game triumph over the Phoenix Suns in the second round. The Kings were one series away from making the 1981 NBA Finals, but ran out of gas and lost to the Houston Rockets in five games.  Oddly enough, the 1982-83 Kings finished eight games OVER .500, but failed to make the playoffs—go figure.  Even so, the 1980-81 postseason was still considered a triumph—far and away the high-point of Kansas City Kings history—and fan interest in the team was at its apex.  Instead of capitalizing on their good fortune and building on it, they pissed it all away. Oh, and then along came this indoor soccer team you’ve heard me talk about…

Just when it looked like the K.C. Kings had a solid nucleus of a team that might rule the ‘80s, general manager "Clueless Joe" Axelson traded away Birdsong and Wedman and others and got bupkis in return for them via trades and/or the draft (Leon Douglas, Hawkeye Whitney, Brook Steppe, anyone?). Lacey was nearing the end of his career, Ford underachieved and the team was never quite the same after that, even after they brought in talented players like Reggie Theus, Joe C. Meriweather, Mike Woodson, Larry Drew and Eddie Johnson. The Kings only made the postseason one other time during their existence in K.C., a quick three-and-out against the Lakers in 1983-84 and fan interest dwindled, despite the efforts of their avid fan club, the "Backcourt Boozers". Again, the front office didn’t have a clue how to market the team, and totally failed to capitalize on the bounce they got from that ’80-’81 playoff run, let alone the resurgence in the NBA’s popularity caused by the emergence of Larry Bird and Magic Johnson in the early ‘80s, and later Michael Jordan, Hakeem Olajuwon, Patrick Ewing, Dominique Wilkins, etc. Had MJ and those other guys come along a little sooner, who knows what may have happened here?
 

Meantime, the Kansas City Comets of the Major Indoor Soccer League hit town in 1981-82 and were an instant sensation, blowing the doors off the Kings in terms of attracting big crowds and leading their own league in attendance in 1982-83, selling out 15 of 24 home dates—downright unfathomable for a sport which theretofore had precious little history here. The stodgy Kings were too old-school to learn from the marketing wizardry of the Comets’ brilliant front office Leiweke brothers (Tim and Tracey) and I truly feel this led to the Kings’ downfall and eventual exit from this city. Kansas City is most definitely a basketball town—there’s too much heritage and history with all the Final Fours and NAIA Tourneys we’ve hosted here to deny that—so there’s no good reason an NBA franchise couldn’t thrive here, but the Kings managed to find a way not to. It just felt like the front office never truly gave a damn about their fans, and that WE owed it to THEM to attend their games. No big surprise that the city didn’t put up much of a fight to keep the Kings during their lame-duck 1984-85 season before they bolted to Sacramento to play in a renovated warehouse. Long about the time the NBA’s next season in KC would’ve begun, the Royals won the World Series, and the Comets were still packing Kemper, thus the Kings were already long forgotten, and they haven’t been terribly missed since then.

After the Kings’ departure, Kansas City spent one season in the minor-league Continental Basketball Association when a team called the Sizzlers played at Municipal Auditorium in 1985-86, but interest in them was tepid at best, and they moved west just like the Kings did—to Topeka. Over a decade ago, the Kansas City Knights were members of the hap-hazard and totally disorganized ABA 2000, a league in which franchises came and went at the drop of a hat on a weekly basis, playing their home games in high school gyms, YMCAs, playgrounds, parking lots, etc., and the Knights usually played to 15,000 empty seats at Kemper. And really, that’s been the extent of professional basketball in this town to date. The advent of the Sprint Center five years ago raised the possibility of the NBA (or even the Kings franchise itself) returning to downtown KC, but that seems to be nothing but false hope, and the University of Kansas men’s basketball team continues to serve as Kansas City’s ersatz "pro" basketball team. As for the Kings, one can’t help but think "what might’ve been", if they’d had some solid ownership and competent people running the team—they coulda been a contender...