That the cover art of Billy Joel's new box set, My Lives, so closely resembles a New Yorker artist's rendition of Humpty Dumpty is in a way poetic, as the legendary pianist and vocalist truly takes a "great fall" in this five-disc effort. A disturbing foil to the masterful music collection found in Joel's 1997 box set, Complete Hits Collection, My Lives is a mediocre anthology of demo cuts too shoddy to ever be released, bizarre cover tracks and, thankfully, fleeting entries unadulterated from previous studio and live albums.
The premiere disc in the box features one such unreleased demo cut of "Piano Man," the musician's trademark tune and a veritable member of the American classic rock canon. Unfortunately, the version found here is highlighted not by the poetic grace of soulful lyrics and delicate instrumentals but, rather, a shrieking harmonic variation on the tune's legendary introduction. This is followed by a vocal departure from the song's memorable lyrics as Joel belches, " … drinks are going fast. There is an old man sitting next to me, regretting time that has passed." Add in a bizarre echo effect seemingly out of a horror film's score and the track becomes a complete mockery of the brilliant song.
An alternate version of "Only the Good Die Young" incinerated by an awkward beat and a "12" Dance Remix" of "Keeping the Faith" with hideous instrumentals seemingly capable of single-handedly killing disco's already-ghostly remains don't fare much better. That the concert DVD included in the box set allows customers to personally remix four of Joel's songs is a testament to the sheer reckless manner with which these instrumental and vocal arrangements are considered in the first place.
Perhaps sadder yet, though, are a few of the various live tracks included in My Lives. As the aforementioned DVD shows an aging Joel attempting to be hip and even the once-brilliant Liberty DeVitto struggling to keep pace on drums, so too do the CD concert cuts reflect a musician quickly losing grasp of his own library. The showmanship of Joel on "Captain Jack" seems fitting perhaps only for a retirement home crowd and the flat vocal range on "Miami 2017" — a deeper cut, telling the story of a devastated New York City, that gained notoriety after Sept. 11, 2001 — are outright depressing to the artist's loyal fans.
Where My Lives does score points is with various tracks lifted cleanly off their original albums, including the brilliant "An Innocent Man" and the numerous tasteful cover efforts. Joel's takes on Elvis Presley's "All Shook Up" and "Heartbreak Hotel," from the "Honeymoon in Vegas" soundtrack, are a genuine tribute to the king himself. And a slightly-modified version of Bob Dylan's landmark "Highway 61 Revisited," though not as good as the original artist's version, is enjoyable and intelligently reinterpreted.
The most bizarre cover effort of the box set, though, is certainly "When You Wish Upon a Star," from 1991. Though Joel's vocal range is once again constrained (an oddity given the date of recording), the classic ballad is still beautiful thanks to its soft instrumental arrangements.
Two live duets, both with Elton John — Joel's longtime touring partner — are efforts of extraordinary proportions, as the British rocker seems to bring out the best in his American counterpart. Indeed, both their cover of The Beatles' "A Hard Day's Night" and rendition Joel's "You May Be Right" reveal the sort of passion, range and sheer talent that propelled the musician to the top of the charts in the first place.
And the box set goes to extraordinary lengths to remind listeners of that chart-topping history. An elegant 58 page booklet is the very antithesis of the effort's troublesome artwork, as it joyfully recounts Joel's phenomenal career with scrapbook entries out of his private collection, a listing of the many awards bestowed upon his work and several literary works paying tribute to the once-masterful musician.
It is that mastery, though, that so viciously inflicts much of the box set. Many of Joel's tracks are such a part of the American repertoire that even the slightest molestation of their original artistic form feels inherently blasphemous. And to listen to the artist's voice slip out of tune and into the shallow realms of flatness is to witness the very demise of a man who once was — and always will be — among the very finest of individuals to enter a recording studio.
Grade: C
