Introduction

“Bennie and the Jets” by Elton John is a timeless anthem that encapsulates the glam rock era of the 1970s with its infectious groove and theatrical flair. Released in 1973 as part of the album “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road,” the song quickly became one of Elton John’s most iconic and beloved tracks. Join us as we delve into the mesmerizing world of “Bennie and the Jets,” exploring its unique sound, captivating lyrics, and lasting impact on music history.

Did You Know?

  • “Bennie and the Jets” was written by Elton John and his longtime collaborator Bernie Taupin, who drew inspiration from the glam rock scene of the 1970s.
  • The song features a distinctive synthesizer riff and handclap rhythm, giving it a futuristic and experimental edge that set it apart from other tracks of its time.
  • Despite never being released as a single in the UK, “Bennie and the Jets” became a chart-topping hit in the United States, reaching No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart.
  • The song’s enigmatic lyrics and Elton John’s flamboyant vocal performance helped solidify its status as a cultural phenomenon, earning it a place in the Grammy Hall of Fame.

Video 

Lyrics: Bennie And The Jets

Hey, kids, shake it loose together
The spotlight’s hitting something
That’s been known to change the weather
We’ll kill the fatted calf tonight
So stick around
You’re gonna hear electric music
Solid walls of soundSay, Candy and Ronnie. Have you seen them yet?
Ooh, but they’re so spaced out
B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets
Oh, but they’re weird and they’re wonderful
Oh, Bennie. She’s really keen
She’s got electric boots, a mohair suit
You know I read it in a magazine, oh
B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets

Hey, kids, plug into the faithless
Maybe they’re blinded
But Bennie makes them ageless
We shall survive, let us take ourselves along
Where we fight our parents out in the streets
To find who’s right and who’s wrong

Say, Candy and Ronnie, have you seen them yet?
Ooh, but they’re so spaced out
B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets
Oh, but they’re weird and they’re wonderful
Oh, Bennie. She’s really keen
She’s got electric boots, a mohair suit
You know I read it in a magazine
B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets

Oh, Candy and Ronnie. Have you seen them yet?
Ooh, but they’re so spaced out
B-B-B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets
Oh, but they’re weird and they’re wonderful
Oh, Bennie. She’s really keen
She’s got electric boots, a mohair suit
You know I read it in a magazine
B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets

Bennie, Bennie and the Jets
Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie and the Jets
Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie and the Jets
Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie and the Jets
Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie and the Jets, the Jets, the Jets
Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie and the Jets

You Missed

“I JUST WANT TO SING IT THE WAY I ALWAYS HAVE.” That’s what Toby Keith said. No dramatic pause. No swelling music behind the statement. Just a simple sentence delivered the way he delivered everything else in his life — straight and unpolished. And somehow, that simplicity made the room feel heavier than any grand farewell ever could. This final night wasn’t built around spectacle. There were no fireworks designed to distract from reality, no desperate swing for nostalgia. What filled the air instead was something steadier — grit. The kind that comes from songs that rode shotgun through people’s hardest seasons, songs that were there when nothing else quite knew what to say. You could hear the difference in the pauses. See it in the way the audience didn’t rush to clap, as if they were afraid to interrupt something sacred. Every lyric landed slower, deeper, not because he sang it differently, but because time had added weight to every word. These weren’t just melodies anymore. They were years. Memories. Battles fought quietly. It didn’t feel like a goodbye wrapped in sorrow. It felt like a man standing exactly where he had always stood — not retreating, not reinventing himself to soften the moment. Just singing it straight. Letting the songs do the heavy lifting. Trusting them to say the things he never needed to spell out. And maybe that was the most Toby Keith thing of all. No grand exit. No final speech. Just the music — steady, honest, and strong enough to carry everything.