Elton John – ‘Candle In The Wind 1997’ / ‘Something About The Way You Look Tonight’

19 September 1997

Elton John - 'Candle in the Wind 1997' / 'Something About the Way You Look Tonight'

Here’s Ireland’s biggest-selling single ever: an Englishman singing about a British royal. It’s also the biggest-selling single ever in Germany, but the British royal family are German anyway so they’re practically their own. What’s our excuse?

Okay, ‘Candle In The Wind 1997’ is actually about the public shock and upset at the brutal and tragic death of one of the most famous people on the planet. The symbolism of the British royal family and the worldwide fascination with them, and it being the Cool Britannia era too, are other factors; there was no ‘Candle In The Wind 1982’ for Princess Grace of Monaco, an actual Hollywood film star. Also, buying this CD was a way for people to let out their feelings; would it have sold so much if we’d had social media back then? Speaking of which, you have to admire the supremely disingenuous track listing on the CD cover (above) which gives ‘Candle In The Wind 1997’ second billing: “Hi guys, Elton here! Hope you like my new single, ‘Something About The Way You Look Tonight’ – oh, and this ol’ thing I only throw on whenever I have a gig at the state funeral of an iconic princess for a global TV audience of grieving millions. See ya!”

The choice of ‘Candle In The Wind’ to be upcycled to a requiem for Diana, though apparently driven organically by its popularity as lyrics quoted in messages and cards that the mourning British public were leaving at various palace gates, is questionable. After all, the original song about Marilyn Monroe is already maudlin and icky: they all leer at you, but I alone understand you, so when I leer at you that’s totally different and okay. It’s Chris De Burgh’s ‘The Lady In Red’ standing on an air vent with her skirt blowing up. Diana died tragically, trying to flee paparazzi exploiting and intruding upon her because they could profit from a readership also gazing tastelessly. Yes, the parallel with Marilyn suggests itself, but as the basis of an overt tribute it’s a bit crass.

On top of that, Bernie Taupin is a terrible lyricist anyway—think of all those X Factor moments where a fragile pop hopeful does ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’ and tries to skim the bit about the horny-backed toad—but the ask of ‘Candle In The Wind 1997’ to be a funeral piece sees him slather on the sentimentalised syrup. “And your footsteps will always fall here / Along England’s greenest hills” riffs on William Blake’s ‘Jerusalem’ and the legend that Jesus set foot in England; if Diana-as-Marilyn was bad, Diana-as-Christ is obscene. The only saving grace of this appalling record is that its colossal sales figures raised millions for charities associated with Diana; whatever the motivation, her early display of compassion for AIDS patients, at a time when they were scurrilously vilified in the English media, was the right thing, with the cruel irony that she herself would be similarly hounded by the press, literally to her death. Today, the same English media establishment has pretty much declared war on her younger son’s wife, another young woman who married into the same royal family. For many reasons, let’s hope there’ll be no call for another version of ‘Candle In The Wind’.

A number one single is more a signifier of pop culture than of pop music, and Ireland’s three biggest chart-toppers ever mark three gigantic pop-cultural events: Italia ’90, Riverdance, and the death of Diana. It doesn’t follow that the merit of the single befits the impact of the event: a number one single is a measure of quantity, not quality. But hey, it was crazy times, the people had spoken, and you all made ‘Candle In The Wind 1997’ our biggest-selling single. Stephen Rea is going to need a bigger notebook.

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