February 20, 2026 —– Chart #338
Hello Music Friends,
Welcome to another edition of Chart of the Week. Today’s selection is “Rocket Man” by Sir Elton John — the tune that somehow manages to be both a stadium sing-along and a quiet, lonely conversation with yourself at 2:00 a.m. It’s spacey without being sci-fi, emotional without being mushy, and it has that rare superpower of making you feel nostalgic for a life you never actually lived (I have never worn a silver suit, and NASA has never called… but I remain available).
The thing I love most about this song is how it sneaks up on you. The melody is smooth as glass, the groove is unhurried, and the lyric is basically: “I’m leaving… and I’m not sure I’m okay.” Not exactly a party anthem, yet here we are, humming it in the grocery store next to the frozen okra.
The story it tells (and why it hits)
At face value, it’s an astronaut song. But you don’t have to squint very hard to see what’s really going on: it’s about distance. About disconnection. About doing what you’re “supposed” to do and realizing it comes with a cost.
The narrator isn’t talking like a superhero. He’s not planting flags and giving speeches. He’s a working man with a job, and the job happens to be leaving Earth. That’s the punch in the gut: space travel as a metaphor for any life path that pulls you away from the people you love. Career. Divorce. Touring. Military. Ambition. Addiction. You name it.
And of course, the lyric was written by Bernie Taupin, who had a particular talent for turning big ideas into plainspoken lines that feel like they were written on a napkin during a late-night truth session.
Musically: simple, but sneaky-good
“Rocket Man” is one of those songs that’s not trying to show off… and that’s why it’s so strong. The changes are approachable, the tempo gives you room to breathe, and the whole arrangement feels like it’s floating about six inches above the floor.
If you’re playing it on guitar, you can take it a couple ways:
- Campfire version: steady strum, let the vocal carry the emotion.
- “Make it cinematic” version: arpeggiate the chords and let it shimmer.
- Band version: keep it restrained. This song doesn’t need a full-contact tackle from the rhythm section. It needs space. (Appropriate, right?)
And if you’re singing it: don’t oversing it. This is not a “belt the rafters” tune. It’s a “tell the truth and let the room get quiet” tune.
The line that always gets me
You know the one. The moment where the song stops being clever and becomes painfully human. That’s the genius here: it’s not about rockets. It’s about what it costs to leave… even when leaving is the plan.
So put this one on the stand this week. Play it slow. Let it breathe. And if you mess up a chord or two, just call it “zero gravity phrasing.” Works every time.
Keep Rockin’,
Stan Bradshaw