When Billy Joel and Elton John come to Colorado on Monday for a concert together at the Pepsi Center, it will be a homecoming of sorts. In the mid-1970s, before the recording industry's economic crunch, the rage among top rock stars was to hole up at "destination studios," reasoning it would be inspirational and less distracting to make records away from the coast. So, many headed to Caribou Ranch, the legendary recording complex near the Boulder County foothills hamlet of Nederland. Joel and John were two of the elite who passed through Caribou's gates with significant recordings a quarter century ago. Here's a look at these two pop stars:

Piano Man

With "Piano Man," Billy Joel notched up his first chart hit in 1974. But, as he explained later, "(My career) was neither here nor there at that time."

In "Turnstiles" (1976), his third album, the Piano Man from from Hicksville, Long Island, put together top-notch material, the major product of returning home to New York City from California ("Say Goodbye to Hollywood").

Yet it took a long time getting off the ground. Jim Guercio, a Chicago native who got his start in the '60s as a producer for brassrock bands such as Chicago, the Buckinghams and Blood, Sweat & Tears, began working with Joel. He wanted to use drummer Nigel Olsson and bassist Dee Murray, both part of Elton John's band.

"Guercio, who I am now a good friend with, had an idea - 'A-ha, Billy Joel, piano player! ...Let's get Elton's band...It worked for Elton; it'll work for Billy'," Joel told 'The Post' in a past interview.

"I didn't think it was a good idea. I said, 'No, no, I'm not Elton John, I'm Billy Joel.'" - Still, Joel tried that line-up for two months, without satisfactory results.

"I was not a big entity at Columbia Records. I'd had a modest hit with "Piano Man," that was it. So I said, 'I'll give it a shot.' I cut a couple of tracks and it was awful."

Joel introduced the novel idea of recording his regular band. Ultimately, he split to Long Island with his own guys and produced "Turnstiles" himself.

"I had played the Village, a few clubs here and there. With the "Turnstiles" album, I put my own band together," he explained. "They knew it cold."

"The basic tracks were done in New York, but most of the vocals, the overdubs, the mixing and the production of the album were done in Colorado, at Guercio's Caribou Ranch."

Before it gained fame as a destination studio, Caribou, in its idyllic setting nearly 9,000 feet up in the Rocky Mountains, was the largest privately owned Arabian stud farm in the country. The 3,000-plus-acre site also served as a dude ranch and a motionpicture set.

Guercio was the sole owner of Caribou Ranch. He bought it for a reported $1 million in 1971 and installed the studio in 1973. Then he transformed the place into an opulent retreat for pop music's aristocracy while developing an exclusive image for himself.

"We didn't run the place like a Holiday Inn," Guercio noted in 1982.

The life-in-the-fast-lane ambience that usually accompanies a recording session disappeared at Caribou. During the ranch's glory days, an entourage got full use of the facilities for a basic rate of $1,500 a day.

The studio was the main lure, but the lodging was equally seductive. The cabins, which slept up to 36 people, featured brass beds, lace curtains, leather-upholstered furniture, huge rock fireplaces, hardwood floors, dark cedar walls and massive stereo systems. Steinway baby grand pianos lurked in the corners of several cabins.

To while away the off-hours, there was a comprehensive library of movies and games to choose from, or an antique pool table for a quick game, or horseback riding or skimobiling. But the favorite pastime had to be eating. A staff of friendly cooks remained on call 24 hours a day to prepare any snack or meal that came to mind. And
every evening, there was a sitdown dinner with candlelight and wine.

What appealed most to Caribou clientele was the insulation from the usual rock and roll circus - there wasn't a nightclub down the street, artists didn't have to send out for food or commute back and forth from a hotel or even worry about the laundry. Record companies were only too willing to shell out the money during the mid-'70s boom years.

"I flew in the face of the commercially successful machine at Caribou, because I ended up leaving Guercio and Caribou management and producing my own album," Joel said. "Which in a way sealed my fate corporately. I can't tell you that I produced it any better than it could have been produced, but it was the first time I got to work with my own road musicians."

Exactly 25 years ago - the first 10 days of April 1976 - Joel played his first gig with the band, at the "Good Earth," a club in Boulder.

"While we were at Caribou Ranch, it was time to start playing. ...I remember a lot of Earth shoes and hippie hair."

"It was the first incarnation of the touring band that I would keep in place for 17 years. That was the gelling of that particular group of musicians. I'd had Liberty (DeVitto, drums) in place for some time, Doug (Stegmeyer, bass) was fairly new, Richie Cannata on sax, Russell Javors on guitar. It came together at the 'Good Earth.' ...We started making our bones there."

"Turnstiles" was released in June 1976, and the success of "Say Goodbye To Hollywood" proved Joel's decision to self-produce to be right. Suddenly everyone was paying attention.

"Guercio, being the gentleman that he is, came to me and said, 'You were right, I was wrong - good for you for sticking to your guns.'"

Then came a breakthrough with "The Stranger," and a string of multi-platinum successes followed. Joel found himself at the summit of the pop heap.

"And you can trace our success as a touring and performing band back to the training ground of the 'Good Earth' in Colorado."

Recording superstar Billy Joel tells his story in his own words and music, exclusively on BBC Radio 2 in a three-part documentary profile, presented by Steve Wright.

Recently interviewed in Las Vegas, during the final leg of his record-breaking "Face 2 Face" tour with Sir Elton John, Billy Joel reveals much about his career and his plans for the future.

"Vegas is a strange place to be summing up my musical career - this is not where I want it to end up. This is considered the elephant's graveyard of entertainment and performers, and you become a lounge singer and a parody of yourself" - Billy Joel.

Billy Joel's life reads like a classic American novel, a true rags-to-riches story. From humble beginnings in Hicksville, Long Island, Joel was inspired by an early television performance of The Beatles on "The Ed Sullivan Show." Bored by the demands of High School, and annoyed he wasn't considered bright enough to further his education, he decided on a career in music, famously declaring.

"If I can't go to Columbia University, I'll go to Columbia Records instead" - Billy Joel.

The rest is recording history.

In three one-hour programmes, Billy Joel reveals how he became one of the most popular recording artists of recent times; why he never set out to become a star, and why he is now giving up popular music.

Billy Joel's catalogue is a diverse mix of rock and roll, melodic ballads and popular standards. With album sales exceeding those of The Beatles in the United States, the series features some less familiar tracks as well as all his hits.

Often labelled the "Piano Man" (after one of his early albums), Billy Joel is the first to admit that:

"The piano is my best friend and if I've got the blues and I am down, then I go and play that piano and it talks to me and it makes me feel better. If I'm in a great mood, I will go over and I'll share that mood with the piano and it will give me back how good I feel" - Billy Joel.

Famous for his high profile celebrity relationships with super-models, Billy Joel explains with typical candour:

"I was dating gorgeous women who would have never - ever - gone out with me if I hadn't been a celebrity or in the music business. I wasn't kidding myself. I was no matinee idol - I look like a garage mechanic" - Billy Joel.

As Billy Joel finally retires from the world of popular music and performance, "My Life: The Story & Music of Billy Joel" is the first time the artist has spoken in such depth about his thirty-year career. In this three-part profile for Radio 2 starting on Tuesday, April 10th, 2001, Billy Joel remembers the highs ("it was superstar time") and very personal lows ("I tried to commit suicide once"), while revisiting all his studio albums.

"I've been around for a long time because I understand the fundamentals of what I am supposed to do…I am not by any means an extraordinary artist. I don't think I am all that good. But there are a lot of people, who are incompetent in this business, and they come and they go. Now, if you are competent in an age of incompetence that makes you appear extraordinary. I'm not all that good, I just know how to do the job" - Billy Joel.

Dueling electric guitars is one of the worn-out cliches in rock music. But dueling pianos? That's not something folks are used to seeing.

So when Billy Joel and Elton John, two of pop music's most enduring superstars, squared off for an encore Monday night at the Pepsi Center, it was great theater, a friendly bit of "Top that, pal!" competition.

John and Joel performed as part of their 2001 "Face 2 Face" tour, and the sold-out crowd was clearly delighted by both artists. Playing separately and together, they delivered nearly four hours of hits with a cheery faithfulness. But it was the surprises - giving treatments to each other's songs, and several duets - that slayed the mostly middle-age audience.

The vibe was affable and relaxed, a swell opportunity to delight in their contrasting styles. While John had more of the songs almost everyone knew by heart, Joel was a stronger, more resonant singer and a showman with lots of fan rapport.

The event opened with a tender trio of songs featuring both piano men - "Your Song," "Just the Way You Are" and "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me." Sir Elton, who turned 54 last month, was in a blue suit and red-tinted glasses. The goateed Joel, who turns 52 next month, was dressed in black shirt, slacks and sports jacket.

John stayed on stage and kicked off a long set that blended rockers (a rousing "Love Lies Bleeding," the explosive "Crocodile Rock" and "Saturday Night's Alright (for Fighting)"), ballads ("Someone Saved My Life Tonight" with drummer Nigel Olsson's distinctive high harmonies, a soaring "Rocket Man," the tender "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road") and unexpected nuggets ("All the Young Girls Love Alice"). Even young fans recognized a pretty "Tiny Dancer," thanks largely to the "Almost Famous" movie soundtrack.

And John gave a loving nod to Joel, playing a cheerful "Uptown Girl." He was more focused than flamboyant, keeping betweensong patter to a minimum. He seemed energized, though, and the credit probably should go to Joel rather than his pacemaker.

Then Joel took the stage, and his band played with tremendous vigor as he rumbled and caressed his way through some of his best-loved tunes - "Movin' Out (Anthony's Song)," "Scenes From an Italian Restaurant," "Only the Good Die Young." He paid tribute to John by assaulting "Take Me to the Pilot." Just for fun, he bluffed his way through a verse of the late John Denver's "Rocky Mountain High" and offered a Sinatra impersonation in regards to their shared receding hairlines. He also strapped on a guitar for a take on Elvis Presley's "Don't Be Cruel" (plus some Led Zeppelin, Hendrix and Cream riffs) and his own "We Didn't Start the Fire." John rejoined Joel for a pulse-quickening encore. They traded vocals in Joel's "My Life" and "You May Be Right" and John's "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues" and "The Bitch Is Back." "Great Balls of Fire" gave props to another great piano pounder, Jerry Lee Lewis.

Duets of "Candle in the Wind" and a sing-a-long "Piano Man" brought things to a close.

The pair played on a wide two-level stage featuring nothing more elaborate than an eye-gouging lighting system that provided elegant illumination. Two round video screens provided close-ups of the action.

The two have trotted out their tandem road show before, in the United States in 1995 and 1996, then overseas in 1998. But this was their first joint appearance in Denver.

It's two of the biggest rock-music icons of the '70s - Elton John and Billy Joel. So could Monday night's concert be anything but a sea of nostalgia, a chance to recapture a little bit of long-lost youth? Of course not - it was pure nostalgia from the first song to the last. But give John and Joel credit. They picked some of their best work and performed it with heart.

Still, even they realized what was going on at a show where concert tickets cost as much as airplane tickets.

"Some of you paid way too much to see this show," Joel mock-scolded. "For what you paid, I should be giving you a lap dance."

But for what they paid, the audience got a stand-up comedy act out of Joel as well as songs; he made fun of everything from his hair to his divorce from Christie Brinkley. He also couldn't resist an incredulous look as he the sang the line "I don't have much money" in John's "Your Song."

The "Elton and Billy Road Show" is a formula, but one that works well. The pair open with duets on some of their best-known songs, including "Your Song" and "Just the Way You Are."

Then it's an hour solo from each of them - John in turquoise and silver, Joel in dapper black - ending with more duets on more big songs.

Touring with Joel is just the kick that John needs to keep him from complacency. Instead of his legendary obsessing, he's out there slapping high fives in the front row. Sure, these are songs he's performed a million times throughout the years, but suddenly John was putting his all into his vocals on "Rocket Man," "Tiny Dancer" and "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road." I've seen him younger, I've seen him more animated, but I've never heard him sing better.

He also seemed to feel the pride of ownership of his songs; nothing was rote. Having original bandmates Nigel Olsson on drums and Davey Johnstone on guitar gave John even more musical incentive to do it right rather than just do it. Witness a burning "Funeral For a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding," a concert staple since 1973 that brought the crowd to its feet in awe.

Joel was the more musically adventurous of the two, actually playing songs from the '90s as well as nonhit album tracks, including "Prelude/Angry Young Man" and the sweet, overlooked "Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)." He threw in cover versions from "Rocky Mountain High" to "Don't Be Cruel," "Purple Haze" and "Good Times, Bad Times." At press time, Joel was still reeling off a seemingly endless string of hits onstage.

The drawbacks were distinct. John performed some of his worst-ever songs, including "Philadelphia Freedom" and the truly wretched "Crocodile Rock," made more excruciating by an off-key audience sing-a-long. And at these ticket prices, a bit more cash should have been put into the sound system, only adequate during John's set and downright muddy during Joel's.

With dozens of hits to his credit, from "Just the Way You Are" and "Allentown" to "It's Still Rock and Roll To Me" and "Uptown Girl," Joel has carved as varied and lengthy a pop career as any keyboardist this side of Elton John (who, not surprisingly, is his co-star when the two play The Pyramid on Saturday).

It promises to be a special show for Memphians. Ever since Joel recorded the Sam & Dave Stax classic "You Got Me Hummin'" with his first band the Hassles back in the '60s, he has kept one ear toward the Bluff City.

Not only did Joel induct Sam & Dave into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1992, that same year he covered the Elvis Presley standards "Heartbreak Hotel" and "All Shook Up" for the "Honeymoon In Vegas" soundtrack. He also performed "The River of Dreams" with O'Landa Draper & the Associates at the 1994 Grammys; once used Memphis Mafia member Jerry Schilling (now Memphis & Shelby County Music Commission executive director) as his tour manager; hired a local company, Alpha Sound & Lighting, in his early touring days; and still gets a thrill out of Memphis musicians from Albert King to Jerry Lee Lewis.

The 51 year-old Rock and Roll Hall of Famer talked to The Commercial Appeal from his New York home about the tour, his fondness for our area and his next musical path (hint, it won't be doo-wop).

On playing Memphis in the '70s:

Memphis was one of the earlier cities that gave us airplay where we were able to build an audience.

We had a renegade gig one night at Lafayette's in Overton Square. We had a night off and we just decided [to] do a gig. So they advertised us as some kind of silly name, Bobo and the Widgets or something like that.

The word of mouth was what did it. A couple of jocks got on the radio and said, "Bobo and the Widgets, you know who that is, is gonna be at Lafayette's." This was back in the early '70s right around the time that "Piano Man" was coming out.

On sitting in with Albert King:

Back in the mid-'80s, my daughter (Alexa) and I stayed at The Peabody and there was a night-club (Peabody Alley) right next to the hotel. I found out that Albert King was playing at this club. And I completely wigged out that Albert King was playing right next to the hotel where I was staying. I saw Albert King on stage. I ran outside and there were people pulling up to the hotel, and I was yelling at them, "Oh my God, Albert King is playing right next door! Why aren't you going to see him?" And then I ran back in and I sat in the audience and I watched him play a set. And then he had heard I was in the audience and invited me up to play.

So they had a Hammond B-3 (organ) in Albert's band. He said, "What do you want to play?" I said, "Can I play 'Born Under a Bad Sign"? So there I am up on stage playing Hammond organ on Born Under a Bad Sign' with Albert King and his band and I'm in heaven. So we finished the song and I play a solo and he goes, "Hey, that's not bad for a white boy. Where did you learn to play the blues?" So I said New York and the place just cracked-up. So he laughed (but) I walked out of there on cloud nine.

On former tour manager Jerry Schilling:

He was our tour manager when we first started to break, which, believe it or not, was in Australia. When we went over there, we were pretty big, and Jerry was the tour manager, just recently out of the whole Elvis entourage. This was about two years before Elvis died, so Jerry was still in touch with him and told us all kinds of stories. He really loved the guy. He really was very protective of him.

(Schilling) wanted to be an independent guy, he did not want to depend on Elvis. Also, he was one of those guys who would not let Elvis take his girlfriend away. Jerry would go tell him to take a hike. I think Elvis kind of liked that - he respected him for it.

On the new direction in his music:

I'm not writing songs anymore. I'm just writing classical piano pieces.

But I won't be the one playing. I took classical piano for 12 years but I didn't study hard enough and I didn't practice hard enough to become a concert pianist.

But that's not what I wanted anyway; I wanted to be a composer. So I went into songwriting. I always use the analogy, my original sweetheart was the girl next door and then along came the rock and roll goddess - the temptress with the torn fishnet stockings and spiked heels - and she ran away with me for 30 years and we had a torrid flaming affair. Right now it's kind of cooled off and we'll always love each other but I've rediscovered the girl next door which was my first love, classical music.

One day I started to write a piece - this was about eight years ago. I had recently become divorced from Christie (Brinkley) and she had moved to Colorado.

So I would see my daughter every couple of weeks, and I would have to fly into Colorado to try and see her. Every once in a while she would be able to come and visit me in New York. And when she would leave, there was this horrible, terrible emptiness, this loneliness when I would watch this car take her away to the airport.

I started writing a song based on this feeling. There was a thematic four-note motif based on the lyric, "We say goodbye and then I watch as you leave and I slowly return to this quiet house."

The music went [plays thick descending chromatic chords, very dark, on the piano]. And I said, why am I writing words? The music was doing it for me. And that piece became something called "The Soliloquy." It's basically that thematic motif done about 10 different ways, it's this constantly saying goodbye.

I wrote this thing and I said, hey, that really was cathartic. I would compare it to listening to or playing the blues. When you're feeling down, if you listen to the blues or you're lucky enough to play the blues, you actually feel better.

On touring with Elton John:

Bands can split up and go off and do solo stuff. What can solo guys do? The only thing they can do is join something. So when I get together with Elton, it's like a piano band. It's different than just doing Billy Joel stuff. I'm actually doing Elton John music and he's doing my music and sometimes we're doing Beatles songs or Jerry Lee Lewis songs, and that's fun. For sure, we'll be doing some of that Jerry Lee stuff when we get to Memphis.

Given the price of admission - more than $180 for a prime seat - this evening wasn't exactly a two-for-one special. It was, though, a rare opportunity to hear two of the most commercially successful performers in the history of pop music - Billy Joel and Elton John - play together and separately for nearly 3½-hours, all in the same night.

Apparently, for a lot of people, that was a priceless opportunity. Kemper Arena was packed to its steel rafters.

The show began with some corny fanfare, as if this were an episode of "The Iron Chef": Joel, dressed in black, and John, wearing a fuchsia jacket spangled with black paisley patterns, sat at pianos facing each other while bits of "Yankee Doodle" and "O, Britannia" played through the PA system. Then they got down to business: singing and indulging in some nostalgia, fun and a little biting sarcasm.

After the two shared vocal duties on "Your Song," Joel removed his sunglasses, revealing a blackened right eye, an injury he inflicted on himself while being too frisky with a microphone stand a few nights ago in Denver. "The show goes on, and it's not over until the fat lady sings," he said. "And speaking of fat ladies, here's a song I wrote for my first ex-wife." Then he and John sang "Just the Way You Are," which sounded surprisingly lovely, despite the crass introduction.

Those two songs were played as piano ballads, but the stage behind both men was loaded with instruments - microphones, keyboards, guitars, horns and enough drums and percussion equipment to stage a Rose Bowl parade. By the third song, it was all put to use. John's band, including longtime drummer Nigel Olsson and guitarist Davey Johnstone, came out and added some background muscle to a version of "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me," in which Joel showed that, on this night anyway, he was the stronger vocalist, black eye and all.

Joel then departed, leaving John and the band to play some hits. They started with "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding," the instrumental/rock anthem that opens the "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" album. The acoustics at Kemper didn't do this song any favors, but the band nailed it, playing it pretty much note for note like the record, right down to Johnstone's guitar licks that lead into John's vocal. From there they slid into a tepid version of the dull "Someone Saved My Life Tonight."

The rest of John's 12-song set was a mix of his early, strong material and a block of '80s cheese. "Rocket Man" was slightly disappointing - a bit rough around the edges and weighed down by a long, instrumental coda. That was followed by relatively clean, straight versions of "Tiny Dancer" and "Levon." Perhaps wanting to spare Joel the chore of singing yet another big hit he'd written for a woman who would become his ex-wife, John then covered "Uptown Girl," a chirpy tune that fit perfectly between his own "I'm Still Standing" and the ever-cheerful "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues."

The crowd was responsive all night, but it deserves some special credit for valiantly singing those annoying, high-pitched "aye-aye-ayes" during "Crocodile Rock," a classic that hasn't aged well.

After a very brief intermission, Joel took the stage with his eight-piece band, which included his longtime drummer, Liberty DeVitto. His set, too, lasted 12 songs and mixed some of his best early material, like "Movin' Out (Anthony's Song)" and "Prelude/Angry Young Man," with later material, like the manic "We Didn't Start the Fire," which ignited some vigorous dancing down on the floor. The jazzed-up version of "New York State of Mind" sounded a little too slick and fussed with, but his cover of "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" was nearly as good as John's original. In fact, Joel's voice sounded strongest all night when he was singing Sir Elton's songs.

For the encore, John, ever the fashion peacock, came out in a studded turquoise suit, which he later covered with a gold trench-coat. The last set included smoking versions of "The Bitch Is Back" and "You May Be Right" - a Joel song that John seemed to especially enjoy.

The evening ended with a by-the-numbers version of "Candle In The Wind," a tune even John seems tired of hearing, and a strong rendition of "Piano Man," a song Joel's fans never tire of hearing. Toward the end of that tune, even some of the ushers in the upper deck were singing the chorus, which was really the point of this
evening: to remember old times by reliving old songs.

Billy Joel got a bit carried away during his April 9th, 2001 show with Elton John in Denver, Colorado.

During a performance of "It's Still Rock and Roll to Me" Joel accidentally hit himself in the eye with his microphone stand.

He continued the show wearing an ice pack, and the two laughed off the incident. Joel and John added an instrumental version of "Eye of the Tiger," during "I Guess That's Why They Call it the Blues." John added the line, "I can honestly say, that your eye can only get better."

As Joel's eye continued to swell, they cut short the encores so the singer-songwriter could visit a doctor. Earlier in the show, Joel announced he and Tony Bennett plan to record a new version of "New York State of Mind."

Front-row female fans got more than they bargained for from Billy Joel in Denver this week. After high-fiving the men, the "Piano Man" French-kissed some of the women. Local marketer Amy Greenberger told the Denver Post, "All of a sudden he grabs my face and dips me into a swoon and sticks his tongue down my throat. I was stunned more than anything else. And no, I did not kiss back. I'm an engaged woman." At a post-concert fete, unrepentant Joel asked Greenberger why she pulled away from him. Then he drank some wine and smooched "more than a few" 'Uptown Girls.'

Billy Joel and Elton John haven't had a radio hit in years, but that didn't stop the sold-out Charlotte Coliseum audience from screaming itself hoarse Thursday.

The 23,112 listeners filled the arena to the brim, anxious to relive the 1970s, when they thought they were invincible and music on the radio custom fit their lives.

John and Joel fulfilled their desires in a nearly 3½-hour evening of toe-tapping tunes and handholding ballads.

The two pianists opened together with John's "Your Song," Joel's "Just the Way You Are" and they finished the duet with John's "Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me."

John took over with hits, such as "Philadelphia Freedom," "Rocket Man" and "Crocodile Rock." On "Rocket Man," John took the Coliseum to church, fingering gospel notes on the piano while his guitarist dripped the blues. John took it one step farther and belted "I'm a rocket man, a rooccckkkkettt man, a rooooccccckkkkkketttttt man" like he was possessed.

He closed with "I'm Still Standing," a rallying song that launched into "Crocodile Rock," during which fans heartily
sang "laaa, la la la la, laaa," and he finished with "Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting)." He played with his foot and even dropped to his knees in his sparkling hot pink suit.

Following John's rousing finish wasn't easy, but Joel handled it masterfully, exuding personality and energy. Whereas John only spoke to the audience to say thank you and introduce his band, Joel joked with everyone.

"Those seats aren't as great as you thought they would be," said Joel, teasing people behind the stage. "They're probably a lot better than the nosebleeds. Let's face it, for what you paid for those nosebleeds, I should be giving you a lap dance."

He jumped off his stool and simulated a silly striptease that only his significant other could find sexy. He was that exuberant all night, playing the piano with his foot, buttocks and one hand. He couldn't stay on the stool for long during his uptempo songs, which his band fleshed out with the standard drums, guitar, keyboard and bass along with saxophones, percussion and harmonica. His songs included "We Didn't Start the Fire," "It's Still Rock And Roll To Me" and "New York State of Mind."

The weakest part of Joel's set was his Barbie doll background singers who were stiffer than dried glue. He should've borrowed John's acoustic guitarist-vocalist who shook his groove thang as if he was at his favorite nightclub.

He seemed to feed off the crowd that sang as if each song took them deeper into the '70s when their taste in music mattered.

It was a pretty good crowd for a Saturday, and they were in the mood for a melody, to quote Billy Joel. A packed house at Gaylord Entertainment Center was awed last night, it seems safe to say, by three and a half hours of classic material from Joel and Elton John, arguably the two largest stars who ever rocked and romanced the world from behind piano keyboards.

It began with two men at two pianos, trading verses and harmonizing on the choruses of each other's work: "Your Song" and "Just The Way You Are." Then the combined bands of both headliners brought matters to an early swell with "Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me," a carefully constructed song with a hook as triumphant as any ever composed in pop/rock. It became quickly clear that while both these men contributed to the softening of rock as a genre in the 1970s, they weren't about to let this evening's set go soft. In a very large room, both took advantage of strong bands and an exceptional sound system to offer up a large sound and a large experience.

Sir Elton took the first solo turn, beginning with "Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding," the long symphonic introduction to the album "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road," and then caressing "Someone Saved My Life Tonight," which earned its own standing ovation. With remarkable charisma for a man tethered to a grand piano, John prodded the band through a long set before concluding with a fire-breathing take on "Saturday Night's Alright (for Fighting)."

John's set left little choice for Joel but to come out full-tilt for his half of the program, and he did with "I Go To Extremes" and "Prelude/Angry Young Man," a great blast of lyrics with a pounding piano riff. As the set evolved, Joel's more nightclub-ish feel came through in his choice of sidemen. While John's key solo partner had been electric guitarist Davey Johnstone, Joel relied on the mellow but remarkable sax playing of Mark Rivera.

John and Joel each did a song by the other in their solo sets: "Uptown Girl" in the first case and "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" in the other. But their symbiosis was never so clear as in the last 40 minutes, when both artists returned for Joel's "My Life," John's "Bennie and the Jets," and more, including a revival-spirited take on Jerry Lee Lewis' "Great Balls of Fire." It made Joel's assertion that "It's Still Rock and Roll To Me" really rather convincing.

And of course "Piano Man" was the evening's last song. It couldn't have been anything else.

The Elton John and Billy Joel "Face 2 Face" tour is classic rock radio come to life, a nostalgia show with its heart squarely in the 1970s and '80s.

But some artists raise nostalgia to the level of timelessness by combining superior songs and a committed, passionate performance. When that happens, you don't know - or care - whether it's 2001 or 1972.

Last night at a sold-out Freedom Hall, John worked the time travel trick with uncommon skill and a touch of magic. There were some fans who walked in wearing Dockers and left in tie-dye and leather vests.

A brief opening set featuring both performers kicked off the nearly four-hour show, which ended past newspaper deadlines. John and Joel dueted on the expected chestnuts, including "Your Song" and "Just The Way You Are," John took over for his solo show and left a scorched Top 40 in his wake.

"Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding," "Someone Saved My Life Tonight," "Philadelphia Freedom," "All the Young Girls Love Alice," "Rocket Man," "Tiny Dancer," "Levon," "Saturday Night's Alright (for Fighting)" - even the cheesy "Crocodile Rock" - were potent reminders of the staying power that John and lyricist Bernie Taupin built into these songs.

"Tiny Dancer," perhaps goosed by its starring role in the rock and roll film "Almost Famous," sounded especially fine, so tender and sweet, but it had strong competition.

Not as much as Joel, however, who immediately followed John. He was the more effusive performer, but his songs can't match John's for impact, and his set consistently sounded more dated and less compelling.

It was almost as if Joel didn't quite buy into the grand scale of the tour - or maybe he didn't want to compete with a guy wearing a turquoise suit with silver sequins. While John began with the epic "Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding," Joel started with the comparatively sedate "I Go To Extremes." A decent song, but not directly after "Saturday Night's Alright (for Fighting)."

Joel bounced back with "Movin' Out (Anthony's Song)," a song that defines and outlives its time as much as John's best stuff. "Scenes From An Italian Restaurant," "Only the Good Die Young," and "New York State of Mind" also stood out. And it was nice that Joel at least acknowledged the outrageous ticket prices. "Considering what you paid for these tickets, I should be giving you a lap dance," he said. "So many laps, so little time."

A big finale reunited John and Joel, with both bands combined, and it was extravagent.

The centerpiece was a stellar "Bennie and the Jets," the definitive John pop song, with a class piano duel between John and Joel that clearly showed each traced his roots back to Jerry Lee Lewis and Little Richard. But in case you didn't get the message, they threw in "Great Balls of Fire."

Perhaps the most surprising performance of the entire show was the last: "Piano Man." The song needs to be retired. It is worn out, run into the ground, definitely deceased. And yet, with Joel singing as if he meant it, joined by a full house hopped up on beer and nostalgia, it worked. It may not have been magic, but it was a moment, and that was enough.