Lightning Bolts from the Blue
In an interview Sir Elton John discussed ten songs that struck him like "lightning bolts" and not only changed his music, but in some cases, his life...
These are the songs Elton John called “lightning bolts.” After his top ten, I will offer my own “lightning bolts.” You are welcome to submit yours in the comments — any number — and if so, I will publish them.
“They were like lightning bolts.” — Sir Elton John
HEARTBREAK HOTEL — Elton described this song as being like nothing he had ever heard before. Elton mentioned the “sheer otherness” of the song and how “it changed the world.” And that reminds me of another quote:
“Before Elvis there was nothing.” — John Lennon
GREAT BALLS OF FIRE — Jerry Lee Lewis was more like a great ball of untamed, uncontainable energy. Elton said he became “obsessed with Jerry Lee.” Elton also said the great showman’s freedom of movement at the piano made him realize that he’d been “playing with bloody posture.”
LUCILLE — Little Richard called himself “The Architect” of rock’n’roll, and Elton called him a “revelation.” Like Elvis, Little Richard was more than just a super-talented artist, he was “electrifying.” And Elton’s feelings for Little Richard went beyond admiration and influence. “I loved him so much,” Elton said. But there was a definite influence: “He gave me permission to be myself.”
WE CAN WORK IT OUT — What did Elton learn from the Beatles? “They make you think and feel, and they do it in 2 1/2 minutes.”
REACH OUT, I’LL BE THERE — What Elton admired most about the Four Tops was their authenticity: “You believed every word.”
THE WEIGHT — Elton said, “I was obsessed with The Band and ‘The Weight’ had this ghostly beauty to it. They had this soulfulness, this weariness that felt ancient.”
THINK — Elton observed that when he was in Aretha Franklin’s presence, she commanded respect. So much so that other artists automatically wanted to raise their games. As for “Think,” it was “a rallying cry, a vocal masterclass, and a masterstroke of pure groove.”
WHATEVER GETS YOU THROUGH THE NIGHT — This was John Lennon’s only solo number one song, and Elton played piano and provided background vocals on the recording. “Everything with John was fun,” said Elton, mentioning Lennon’s wit and charm. The two made a bet that if the song topped the charts, they would perform it together, and Lennon kept his word and they did.
A SONG FOR YOU — Elton called Leon Russell “my piano-playing idol.”
DON’T GIVE UP — Elton said this Kate Bush duet with Peter Gabriel helped him through some tough times as he struggled with addiction and other personal issues. He said, “It became more than a song. It became a creed.” He also said that “the two of them together was like a double whammy.”
MY OWN PERSONAL LIGHTNING BOLTS
These are the songs that struck me like lightning bolts from “out of blue nothing” as my friend the Maltese poet Joe M. Ruggier put it.
BLOWIN’ IN THE WIND — I heard this Bob Dylan classic playing on the radio of a London rooftop on a rare sunny day, when I was around eleven years old. It struck me like the voice of an ancient prophet and I still remember the moment vividly. I wrote a poem about the experience, which appears after this list.
A CHANGE IS GONNA COME — For me this is the most soulful song I’ve ever heard. I didn’t know it until many years later, but Sam Cooke wrote this heartrender after hearing “Blowin’ in the Wind.”
UNCHAINED MELODY — When I was a boy, a teenager and a young man, this masterpiece almost NEVER got played. But I heard it somewhere and wrote a poem, “Intricate Melody,” based on a single hearing of the song around age eighteen. The poem appears after my Bob Dylan tribute poem. Years later, I would hear the song from time to time at a Nashville restaurant called the Cajun’s Wharf, when a cover group called the Gold Diggers performed it. How I loved the song! My faith in “Unchained Melody” was rewarded when the Righteous Brothers version appeared on the soundtrack of the movie Ghost and it shot up to number one.
BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED WATER — When I was thirteen, I received a cassette player/recorder for Christmas and my first big music project was recording the countdown of the top hits for 1971 on a New Year’s Eve radio show. Before the number one song for 1971 was played, just as the fireworks started in my neighborhood, the number one song for the previous year was played. It was “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” which I recorded with fireworks going off in the background. It seemed like a good omen then, and still does.
I’M A BELIEVER — This was the first rock song that I remember hearing. It was written by Neil Diamond, a poet’s poet, and recorded by the Monkees. Not a favorite group of mine, but they gave me a cherished memory.
MOONSHADOW — This Cat Stevens song was one of my favorites after I discovered rock in my early teens. So melodious, so lyric, so unusual. I also loved “Oh Very Young,” “Where Will the Children Play,” “Morning Has Broken,” “Wild World” and “Peace Train.”
STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN — When I was in high school, this was the song we played the most and discussed the most. And it has never grown old for me.
DARK SIDE OF THE MOON — When I was in college, my dorm played Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon album the most. The whole album was great from the first track to the last.
ONE — I’m a poet and a lyric man, and for me this song has all-time great lyrics.
Have you come here to play Jesus
to the lepers in your head?
BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY — This song, written by the immortal Freddie Mercury, was like a revelation. Nothing like it before, or since.
A WHITER SHADE OF PALE — I loved this eerie masterpiece the first time I heard it, and still do.
HOUSE OF THE RISING SUN — For me, the Animals covering this folk classic was the genesis of hard rock and darker rock.
POEMS ABOUT SINGERS AND SONGS
When I was in high school I worked at the Nashville McDonald’s closest to the Grand Ole Opry, and Johnny Cash and his family would stop in for burgers and fries from time to time. He always wore black and always took time to sign autographs.
Indestructible, for Johnny Cash
by Michael R. Burch
What is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash is gone,
black from his hair to his bootheels.
Can a man out-endure mountains’ stone
if his songs lift us closer to heaven?
Can the steel in his voice vibrate on
till his words are our manna and leaven?
Then sing, all you mountains of stone,
with the rasp of his voice, and the gravel.
Let the twang of thumbed steel lead us home
through these weary dark ways all men travel.
For what is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash lives on—
black from his hair to his bootheels.
Paris, 1964
by Michael R. Burch
Don’t let their music go to your heads:
the Beatles made their hotel beds
and never left their rooms in shreds.
They were “friendly, polite and sharp.”
Angels in need of a harp.
Real stars must raze, wreck, ruin, carp.
Unlikely Mike
by Michael R. Burch
for Michael Jackson
I married someone else’s fantasy;
she admired me despite my mutilations.
I loved her for her heart’s sake, and for mine.
I hid my face and changed its connotations.
And in the dark I danced—slight, Chaplinesque—
a metaphor myself. How could they know,
the undiscerning ones, that in the glow
of spotlights, sometimes love becomes burlesque?
Disfigured to my soul, I could not lose
or choose or name myself; I came to be
another of life’s odd dichotomies,
like Dickey’s Sheep Boy, Pan, or David Cruse:
as pale, as enigmatic. White, or black?
My color was a song, a changing track.
The title “The Pain of Love” was suggested by an interview with Little Richard, then eighty years old, in a Rolling Stone interview. Little Richard said someone should create a song called “The Pain of Love.” I've written the lyrics, now can someone provide the music?
The Pain of Love
by Michael R. Burch
for T. M.
The pain of love is this:
the parting after the kiss;
the train steaming from the station
whistling abnegation;
every highways’ broken white bar
that vanishes under your car;
each hour and flower and friend
that cannot be saved in the end;
dear things of immeasurable cost …
now all irretrievably lost.
Copyright © 2013 by Michael R. Burch
This is my tribute poem for Bob Dylan, based on my first "meeting" with him at age 11 on a London rooftop…
My boyhood introduction to the Prophet Laureate and how I became his Mini-Me at age eleven
by Michael R. Burch
for Martin Mc Carthy, author of "The Perfect Voice"
Atop a London rooftop
on a rare cloudless day,
between the potted geraniums,
I hear the strange music play …
Not quite a vintage Victrola,
but maybe a half step up:
late '69 technology.
I sat up, abrupt.
What the hell was I hearing,
a prophet from days of yore?
Whatever it was, I felt it —
and felt it to the core.
For the times, they are a-changin' …
The unspoken answer meandered
on the wings of a light summer breeze,
unfiltered by the geraniums
and the dove in me felt ill at ease.
For the times, they are a-changin' …
I was only eleven and far from heaven,
intent on rock music (and lust),
far from God and his holy rod
(seduced by each small budding bust).
For the times, they are a-changin' …
Who was this unknown prophet
calling me back to the path
of brotherhood through peace?
I felt like I needed a bath!
For the times, they are a-changin' …
Needless to say, I was altered.
Perhaps I was altared too.
I became a poet, peace activist,
and now I Am preaching to you!
For the times, they are a-changin' …
Get off your duffs, do what you can,
follow the Prophet's declaiming:
no need to kneel, just even the keel,
For the times, they are a-changin'!
This poem that I wrote around age 18 was inspired by “Unchained Melody” as covered by Bobby Hatfield of the Righteous Brothers in 1965.
Intricate Melody
by Michael R. Burch, circa age 18
Late in the sunlight silence,
a shower of silver over the sea
waltzed through the waves like a sad melody …
She had eyes
like September,
flaming amber,
searing autumn sunshine.
She sang, "Love,
I don't remember,
was I yours,
or were you mine?"
And then in an stunning sunset,
a flare of wildfire striking the trees
rekindled the flames of an old memory …
She had dreams
like silver forests
full of fancy
dancing in the shadows.
She sighed, "Love
was working for us,
now it`s gone,
I wonder how."
But off the arcing evening,
a frail trace of sunset recharging the breeze
whispered the words of an old mystery …
Though she sleeps
in silver forests
set in mountains
towering to the heavens,
still her heart
beats to the chorus
of one love,
love for one man.
Thanks for dedicating your Dyan tribute to me. I really appreciate it. For me, as you well know, Dylan is the greatest songwriter ever - the Picasso of music.