Elton John

Madman Across The Water (1971)

1.Tiny Dancer
2.Levon
3.Razor Face
4.Madman Across the Water
5.Indian Sunset
6.Holiday Inn
7.Rotten Peaches
8.All the Nasties
9.Goodbye

MMadman Across the Water, released in 1971, marked the closing chapter of Elton John's formative period—a final moment of studio austerity before superstardom and stadiums took hold. Though technically his fourth studio effort, it functions in many ways as a summation of the three that preceded it. The orchestral grandeur of Elton John, the rustic Americana of Tumbleweed Connection, and the raw live energy glimpsed on 11-17-70 are all folded here into a work of refined intensity. As great as those three parts are, the sum here actually manages to eclipse its predecessors.

The album is notable for the prominence of Elton’s piano—less ornamental here, more structural. While electric keyboards and synthesizers make occasional appearances, they are employed with great restraint. Instead, the spotlight falls consistently on Elton’s grand piano, which anchors the album both sonically and emotionally. This is especially evident on the opening two tracks—Tiny Dancer and Levon—each an exemplar of Elton and Taupin at the height of their melodic and lyrical intuition.

Tiny Dancer,arguably the album’s most enduring song, shimmers with steel guitar and a spacious Californian melancholy. It builds slowly, almost cautiously, before swelling into one of the most glorious codas in his catalogue. Levon, more orchestrally ambitious, places Paul Buckmaster’s sweeping string arrangements in full bloom—an opulent backdrop to Taupin’s dense, semi-biblical portrait of generational drift. Neither track was a major chart success at the time, but both have since become staples—proof, if ever it were needed, that the charts are rarely the final word.

Elsewhere, the album continues in a similarly reflective vein. Razor Face and Rotten Peaches unfold with a grim, bluesy weight, while Holiday Inn offers a weary portrait of the touring musician’s life, long before Elton had accumulated the miles himself. Indian Sunset is one of Taupin’s more dramatic narratives, chronicling the plight of Native Americans with considerable empathy, even if the tone now sits slightly at odds with contemporary sensibilities. Of particular note is All the Nasties, the only track here to feature both Dee Murray and Nigel Olsson, the rhythmic backbone of what would soon become the classic Elton John Band. The song is, by turns, ominous and uplifting, with gospel flourishes and a cryptic air of self-reckoning. It is perhaps the album’s most daring moment.

New arrivals include guitarist Davey Johnstone and percussionist Ray Cooper—both of whom would become fixtures in Elton’s orbit for decades. Their presence, while subtle here, signals a turning of the tide. The machinery of the Elton John enterprise was beginning to assemble in earnest.

If there is a blemish, it lies in the presentation. The original denim-stitched cover, a relic of post-hippie fashion, has aged awkwardly and now seems ill-matched to the album’s mood. Similarly, Taupin’s lyrics, though often striking, occasionally lapse into abstraction for abstraction’s sake. He has since confessed as much, admitting that even he wasn't entirely sure what some of the verses were meant to convey. That said, the sentiment behind Tiny Dancer—dedicated to his then-wife Maxine—remains deeply affecting and wholly sincere.

Madman Across the Water may not possess the thematic unity of Tumbleweed Connection or the raw immediacy of 11-17-70, but it highly succeeds on a different level. It is an album of mood—dark, introspective, richly textured—and one that rewards repeated listens. For those seeking the roots of Elton’s grandeur before the costumes and excess, this is where the storm begins to stir.

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