An anything goes attitude is the defining feature of Elton John's forth studio album, Madman Across the Water. A folk song about a hotel chain. A narrative about an Iroquois warrior. An eight-minute rock epic about who-knows-what. The next track could be anything. Of coarse such an approach means at least a few missteps, (The aforementioned "Indian Sunset," which references tomahawks and Geranimo, is just ridiculous), but ultimately John and lyricist, Bernie Tauplin, create some compelling music. Take "Levon," a character sketch of a cold-hearted business-man and his dreamer son, Jesus (named so because Levon "liked the sound") for example. With its pungent imagery, winding violins and passionate vocals, it's an outstanding rock epic if there ever was one. The album's best track, though, is its most normal, "Tiny Dancer," which was revived in 1999 by Cameron Crowe's outstanding, rock and roll-themed coming-of-age film, Almost Famous. The ballad, about a free-spirited groupie, is the John/Tauplin team at its most charmingly amorous and effortlessly gorgeous. More common, though, are idiosyncratic moments like "All the Nasties," in which an urbanite assets his manhood in front of a towering choir and "Goodbye," in which a poet, who feeds lambs wine that flows from his hands (Yeah, you read that right) throws a fit. Elaborate, individualistic and unpredictable, all to an extreme, there are few albums quite like Madman Across the Water and of them, very few as pleasing.