Three elements sustain what Winston Churchill indelibly described as the “special relationship” between Great Britain and the United States: a common language, shared values, and Elton John.
The weight of John’s considerable contribution to transatlantic relations was on full, Technicolor display last month in Washington, D.C., where the beloved musician and his songwriting partner of 57 years, lyricist Bernie Taupin, were awarded the Gershwin Prize for Popular Song. Hosted by the Library of Congress in recognition of work that “transcends musical categories, brings diverse listeners together, and fosters mutual understanding and appreciation across cultural borders,” the annual ceremony brings a diverse roster of artists across a range of genres together to pay tribute to the honoree by performing covers of their songs.
The evening began, improbably enough, with Metallica. I was initially skeptical, but the band’s heavy-metal rendition of “Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding” was an inspired way to kick-start the night. (In the televised concert, broadcast earlier this week on PBS, the band appears in the middle of the program.) Garth Brooks, himself a Gershwin Prize recipient, brought the crowd to its feet with his soulful rendition of “Sorry Seems to Be the Hardest Word,” while Annie Lennox’s thunderous voice captured the gospel power of “Border Song.”
Billy Porter, who M.C.’d the evening, should have received his own award for strutting around in six-inch heels while belting out “The Bitch Is Back.” Younger stars Charlie Puth and Maren Morris delivered faithful interpretations of “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me” and “I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues,” respectively, while on the other side of the generational scale, Joni Mitchell, last year’s laureate, fittingly sang John’s defiant 1983 hit, “I’m Still Standing.”
The one somber moment came during a tribute to John’s charitable work raising hundreds of millions of dollars to fight AIDS. The sister of Ryan White, the Indiana teenager whose school barred him from attending classes after he contracted the disease via a blood transfusion, read from a moving letter John wrote in remembrance of his young friend, who died in 1990. This was followed by Brandi Carlile singing “Skyline Pigeon,” which John had himself performed at White’s funeral (where he also served as a pallbearer).
Amid all these musical legends, the night’s most exhilarating act came from a relative unknown. I had never heard of Jacob Lusk, an American Idol contestant from 2011, or the trio he fronts, Gabriels. But I will never forget the way his ethereal voice and electrifying stage presence transformed “Bennie and the Jets,” a song I have heard hundreds of times, into something one might hear at an open-air revival.
The evening began, improbably enough, with Metallica. I was initially skeptical, but the band’s heavy-metal rendition of “Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding” was an inspired way to kick-start the night.
Musical genres were not the only thing rendered temporarily irrelevant in Constitution Hall that evening; so, too, were political affiliations. In addition to Democratic Senate majority leader Chuck Schumer and Republican House majority leader Steve Scalise, others in attendance included former Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi and possible vice-presidential pick Senator Tim Scott, not to mention Supreme Court justice Ketanji Brown Jackson.
According to Librarian of Congress Carla Hayden, the Gershwin Prize ceremony has been referred to as “bipartisan karaoke.” Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez could be seen singing along to “Bennie and the Jets,” while Republican representatives Bryan Steil and Mark Amodei appeared uncharacteristically uninhibited.
Music, more than any other art form, has the ability to transcend our divisions. And that’s true of Elton John, perhaps more than any other musical artist. It shouldn’t be held against John that he is the favorite musician of Donald Trump, who played “Tiny Dancer” at his rallies, nicknamed North Korean tyrant Kim Jong Un “Little Rocket Man,” and hired John to sing at his wedding to Melania.
Asked how he could perform at the (fourth) wedding of Rush Limbaugh, who routinely ridiculed gay people on his radio show, John, who certainly ranks as the best-known gay man in the world, replied that “life is about building bridges, not walls”—and he’s right.
John has repeatedly resisted pressure to join the cultural boycott of Israel. “Music is, and always will be, a universal language, free from boundaries,” he wrote in response to critics demanding that he cancel tour dates in the Jewish state. “It can and does inspire unity.”
For this longtime Washingtonian inured to partisan gridlock, it was a tonic to see so many of our perpetually bickering politicians literally singing the same tune. “Thank you, America, for the music you’ve given us all over the world,” John said in his acceptance speech. “I’m so proud to be British and to be here in America to receive this award because all my heroes were American.” But it is we Americans who have this wonderful Brit to thank.
James Kirchick is a Writer at Large at AIR MAIL and the author of Secret City: The Hidden History of Gay Washington
