I finally picked up Billy Joel’s 1986 album The Bridge in fancy digital format, previously owning and then selling the CD (I needed the money at the time–this was a long time ago when selling used CDs was actually somewhat worthwhile). For some reason, it sells for a few dollars more than his other albums, as if subtly trying to tell you to avoid it or conversely making it seem more valuable and thus, irresistible.
Given the actual album content, it may be more the former.
Joel was prolific throughout his career until this album, which came out three years after An Innocent Man. His next two albums would come out three and then four years apart before he essentially hung up recording forever (with a few minor exceptions).
With The Bridge the first hints of a creative dry spell are seen with Cyndi Lauper lending a co-writing credit (and vocals) to “Code of Silence.” On the other hand, Joel also uses the album to do whatever the hell he wants, a fitting reflection of the indulgent 1980s. Fortunately, his ability to write effortlessly catchy tunes lifts much of the material. He straps on a guitar for no apparent reason in “A Matter of Trust” but the song is catchy enough. He adopts a falsetto and goes big band in “Big Man on Mulberry Street,” does a duet with idol Ray Charles in “Baby Grand” (while engaging in some ill-advised Ray Charles-style vocal affectations) and apes The Police in “Running on Ice.”
The low points come in the songs where he is addressing or singing about women. Sometimes the result is forgettable fluff like “Modern Woman,” one of his most skippable songs ever. Other times the songs are bogged down with tacky lyrical turns. In “This is the Time” Joel sings:
I haven’t shown you everything a man can do
So stay with me baby, I got plans for you
This is gross, really.
“Temptation” seems to be a defense of his then-relationship with Christie Brinkley, a lyrically weak and musically lazy ballad.
But among these lesser songs, there’s some good stuff, too. Sure, “Big Man on Mulberry Street” is over the top but it’s also a fun pastiche. While the lyrics are strangely generic, “Code of Silence” is still evocative and Lauper’s contribution to the song works well. “Getting Closer” is an energetic, er, closer, and while “Running on Ice” gets a little too wrapped up in its portrayal of Joel as a poor, overworked but so very sophisticated urban man, the song is pleasingly energetic.
This is easily Billy Joel’s most inconsistent album since his work in the early 70s and I wouldn’t blame anyone for stopping their collection at An Innocent Man (or even The Nylon Curtain), but there’s enough solid material here for me to give it a tepid recommendation.
