JP writes and performs ridiculous keyboard music that has all the warmth and emotion of morning show theme songs, then simply TALKS over them in a ridiculously smarmy and not quite in-any-key-at-all voice, turning coffee muzak into hilariously stupid ruminations on early 80s icons and outdated male fantasies of hot tubs and Trans Ams cooling you down on those hot Los Angeles nights.
Live, he wears ridiculous costumes and just walks around onstage dressed as a big bunny rabbit or a baby riding on its mothers’ shoulders and just willy-nilly things of that nature while slides and projections “make the grade” behind him. But live shows have no bearing on anything, and might as well not exist for all that they add to our lives. Did a live show ever fix you dinner or hold your hand during a frightening lunar eclipse during which the whole world seemed to go dark with despair and longing? Sure it did. Because it was Elton John, friend to all creatures.