Sometimes a Piano

On recent albums, Billy Joel, the consummate piano man, has ignored his Steinway in favor of a flood of catchy pop tunes and guitar licks. And as I headed for the Worcester Centrum last Friday, I wondered which Billy Joel would appear: the scruffy author of such classics as "Captain Jack" and "I've Loved These Days," or the polished performer of such Top 40 fodder as "Modern Woman" and "A Matter of Trust?"

As it turned out, Joel was asking himself the same question. Luckily for the 20,000 adoring fans, Joel decided to stick with the instrument which launched his career. As he said early in the performance, "we're going to play some new songs, but we want to do the old stuff, too." It was a good choice.

The five-night engagement in Worcester marked the beginning of Joel's Storm Front tour, and his band was tight, stomping their way through "Pressure" and "You May Be Right." Saxophonist Mark Revere added extra flourish to the show, and maniacal drummer Liberty DeVito is always entertaining to watch.

You don't go to a Billy Joel concert to see the band, though, and Joel remained the center of attention, racing through the audience on "Only The Good Die Young," cartwheeling off his Steinway on "Big Shot," and performing nearmagical tricks with the piano. Joel played behind his back, used his feet and alternated hands with such speed that at times he seemed little more than a blur at the keyboard.

Joel refused to sacrifice speed for substance, though, and every moment of madness was balanced by a slower, more poignant section. On "Miami 2017 (Seen The Lights Go Out On Broadway)," Joel's driving guitar-based verses about the destruction of New York faded into a gentle piano conclusion. "Scenes From An Italian Restaurant" harkened back to Joel's younger "days hanging out by the village green," and stirring versions of "Piano Man" and "And So It Goes" graced the three encores.

My personal favorite was a hypnotic version of "Goodnight Saigon," Joel's ode to the Vietnam veteran, which began with the pounding sounds of helicopters and combined searchlights that swept the audience with Joel's solemn piano chords. Not a cheery moment, but a moving one.

Joel also demonstrated ample holiday spirit, inserting "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" and a hillarious rap version of the poem "Twas The Night Before Christmas" into his line-up. The festive mood extended beyond the songs played; Joel went out of his way to show appreciation for the crowd, wrapping himself in towels thrown from the front rows and stopping security guards so he could shake the hand of a fan who had climbed on stage.

Billy Joel's concert provided no radical innovations or new interpretations of songs; it did show an energetic and talented performer, grateful for his fans and the piano which had made him famous. And in an age dominated by pretentious rock stars, there's nothing wrong with that.