I mean, he’s a fucking cowboy who likes guns and I collect tablecloths and porcelain. I’ve never had an argument with him in my life, not about work, not about personal things, nothing. “I have no fucking idea how our relationship works,” says John. By contrast, Wonderful Crazy Night is raucous and poppy, filled with lyrics about enduring love and parenthood, the latter the handiwork of his longstanding lyricist Bernie Taupin. His last album, 2013’s The Diving Board, was a sombre collection of songs about ageing and mortality, interspersed with improvised piano instrumentals, “the most uncommercial album I’ve ever made”. Still, he was anxious about how it might be received.
I make an album every year and a half, it’s not an event when I make an album.” “It’s Justin Bieber’s time and Rihanna’s time, Drake’s time, let’s just accept it and get on with it, move over. “I don’t have to compete any more,” he says. He says his commercial ambitions for the new album are modest, a far cry from the days when, according to one statistic, he was singlehandedly responsible for 2% of all global record sales. This has thus far taken in everything from Graham Norton’s chatshow to being interviewed by Vice to unexpectedly turning up in the middle of London’s St Pancras and playing an instrumental medley on a new piano he donated to the station. Today, though, at 68 going on 69 and dressed down in a tracksuit – a diamond crucifix earring the solitary hint of bling – John is clearly buoyed by the good reviews of his 32nd studio album, Wonderful Crazy Night, if slightly exhausted by the promotional campaign around it. ‘When I get home, the last thing I want to do is play the piano’ … John, 1971. On a human level, I understand that people are hurt on the other hand, they needed to go.” We’ve made some changes and some of them haven’t been very popular, because people don’t like being gotten rid of, which is quite right. My businesses have been badly run for the last five or six years, he’s come in, had a look at what’s gone on, pruned a few people away, made it a leaner, meaner machine. “Oh, I’m a recluse, what a load of bullshit. This, it goes without saying, is not a version of events that finds much favour with John. The most lurid of the stories claimed that Furnish’s machinations during an 18-month cost-cutting exercise at Rocket were turning his husband into “ an eccentric Howard Hughes-like figure”. “Yeah, I’ve started calling him Yoko,” says John.
#ELYON JOHN SERIES#
A series of tabloid stories have claimed that as both Elton John’s husband and CEO of his management company Rocket, he has “taken over” the singer’s life. “If you look down there,” he says, pointing to the bottom right of the canvas, “there’s a woman … playing with herself.”įurnish has been having rather a hard time of it in the press recently.
They are on a beautiful canvas covered in needlework by the Egyptian artist Ghada Amer. “And don’t forget the vaginas,” notes John’s husband, David Furnish, as he passes. No such luck: on closer examination, it turns out his penis is actually a knife and he is trying to stab himself in the throat. A life-sized, bright yellow, glass-bead-covered sculpture of a naked man with his head between his legs, who at first glance seems to be gamely attempting to urinate in his own mouth. Furthermore, spilling your mug of coffee is something you might easily do were you confronted, unprepared, by Liza Lou’s The Seer. You could potentially do hundreds of thousands of pounds of damage if you spilt a mug of coffee, a horrifying thought if, like me, you’re holding a mug of coffee. They have apparently just moved the Warhol, but there is still stuff everywhere. Through a doorway I can see a corridor lined with huge David Bailey portraits, including the famous one of Harry Palmer-era Michael Caine, ciggie in mouth. There is a Damien Hirst, a large Grayson Perry pot, a Marc Quinn sculpture of his baby son, made out of wax mixed with chemically produced milk substitute – Quinn’s son is allergic to milk – and a vast photographic reproduction of The Last Supper by John’s friend Sam Taylor-Johnson. What the living room does have is a lot of contemporary art. Sir Elton John performs for commuters at London’s St Pancras station – video Guardian
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