Billy Joel's last studio album, 'River of Dreams,' was released 30 years ago this week

Billy Joel's 12th studio album, "River of Dreams," was released 30 years ago this week on Aug. 10, 1993. Little did anyone know that this record — which was No. 1 for three weeks (Aug. 28-Sept. 18)  on the Billboard  200 chart — would mark Joel's final studio album of pop music (not to mention that 30 years later he'd be still selling out Madison Square Garden).

The album drew mostly positive reviews, including this one by freelance writer Jon Young, which ran in Newsday on Aug. 8, 1993.

Love him or loathe him, you must give Billy Joel credit: Success hasn't mellowed the man one bit. Despite years of the kind of massive popularity that generally induces laziness and delusions of grandeur, Long Island's favorite son still sounds royally ticked off at the shabby state of the world. Although any self-respecting serious artist should have a supply of rage to draw upon, it's startling to hear Joel vent his wrath so unreservedly on "River of Dreams" (Columbia).

When it comes to the fine art of writing catchy pop tunes, Joel is right up there with Paul McCartney and Elton John. Does that make him a lightweight? If anything, "River of Dreams" isn't light enough, with one outburst after another keeping the tension high. "Wound so tight" (as he describes himself at one point), Joel surveys his lot, finds much to be thankful for and still takes some small solace in his blessings. Could be the dreaded midlife crisis! 

The thundering "No Man's Land" kicks off the proceedings with an indictment of suburbia that doesn't add up. Joel scowls at the endless parking lots and vacant kids, even alluding to Amy Fisher, yet doesn't provide deeper insights. He gets more personal on the next track and hits his stride.

Boasting a gorgeous, surging refrain, "The Great Wall of China" is a scathing putdown destined for the Vitriol Hall of Fame. Joel finds a dozen ways to call a faithless friend a worthless loser, sneering, "Charlie, you shoulda looked out for me," which suggests he's addressing his ex-manager.

Mostly, he tries to make sense of the human drama. In the eloquent tradition of Bob Dylan's "My Back Pages," the striking "Shades of Grey" admits it's harder to know absolute truth as the years go by; intent on spotlighting the lyrics, Joel keeps the musical embellishments to an uncharacteristic minimum.

Elsewhere, he doesn't hesitate to showcase his gift for literate melodies, with those passionate vocals making sure the messages don't get lost. "All About Soul," a sprawling epic guest-starring Color Me Badd, and the gentle "Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)" both embrace loved ones in the face of relentless eternity. Joel needs to loosen up — all this cold reality can cause ulcers.

Even the production, mostly by Dan Kortchmar, seems taut, leaving little room for the piano man to tickle the keys. There's an alternative to the clenched-fist approach in the delightful title track. The lilting rhythm and playful singing generate a warm glow that echoes Paul Simon's world-music ventures; the images of a "jungle of doubt" and "valley of fear" convey the spiritual restlessness that dominates the album. "River of Dreams" is one of Billy Joel's most potent works. But a little more fun wouldn't hurt.