EDMONTON -- Elton John did not fly down onto the stage in Skyreach Centre wearing gold hot pants and a mink coat, nor did he light his piano on fire.

The Pinball Wizard was nowhere to be found. Captain Fantastic was there in spirit only. Outrageous eyeglasses were eschewed, as were those ridiculous platform boots from the '70s.

These are the things that Sir Elton John did not do during his sold-out show last night.

What he did do was prove himself to be a consummate showman, playing some of the most durable songs that came out of the '70s. These classic Elton John-Bernie Taupin hits, of course, were what 17,500 fans came for. He wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for Crocodile Rock, for Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, for Bennie and the Jets, come on, you know them all. This concert was free of the squishy Disneyesque fluff he's been churning out lately, thank goodness. This night belonged to the oldies.

The 52-year-old pianoman was flying solo and unadorned for a show that fell somewhere between a recital and a rock concert without really being either. It was the world's biggest lounge act. The entire Elton John legacy was stripped down to its barest essence.

As he told the fans, "Tonight it's just me and this big black piano."

Together, they were special effects enough.

After an entrance worthy of a royal visitor, he opened with Your Song, his first hit. The more obscure Skyline Pigeon followed and then a song about Taupin's baby brother called The Greatest Discovery. Touching. As he demonstrated again last night, Elton John has a strange knack for wallowing in sentimentality while managing to transform it into something sublime. The trick is in great songwriting. When it hits the mark, it's wonderful stuff.

Waves of cheers washed over the entertainer at the end of every number. Dressed in a black suit with silver piping and simple tinted glasses, he'd stand, bow to the four corners of the arena, take a sip from his Diet Coke and continue the parade of memories.

The more familiar the song, the more enthusiastic the response. Standing ovations erupted after classic songs like Daniel and Rocket Man.

John didn't sing many of the high notes, but his bellowing tenor was in fine form. As for his piano playing, he's no Liberace - perhaps that's a good thing - but he attacked his Yamaha with ham-fisted, joyous confidence, allowing himself to cut loose in a terrific version of Honky Cat, the song that brought the concert to its peak early in the night. When he bobbed his head and made his "tough" face - beamed into the crowd thanks to twin video screens edited with TV studio slickness - you knew he was pulling out all the stops. The bright wall of sound he hammered from the piano filled the arena.

John indulged himself as much as his fans. He played a "long instrumental" from his 1981 album, The Fox, which had several people head to the concourse for beer. As he promised (or warned) at the beginning, he trotted out songs "you might not recognize," including Better Off Dead, which sounded like something from a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta. And he pulled out the obscure Elton's Song, written by a friend named Tom Robinson.

"It's a song about having a crush on someone when you're in school," Elton explained.

One could feel the people's attention wander in some places. You can't blame them. It was a long night, a whole lotta Elton. Even with enhancements - a sampled string section here, a back-up vocal there - the basic sound varied little. But for the most part, he carried it off and delivered a solid night of hits - all by himself. Whatever anybody says about his recent music, his homosexuality, his love for his own fame, his shopping addition, his hissy fit at the Canadian border, it takes a pretty formidable performer to play solo and pull it off like that.

Other Stuff

THE SMELL in the air was overpowering. A weird mix of dozens of perfumes and that oily yellow soup they put on hot popcorn, it was a scent to remember and, hopefully, forget. As Elton started beltin' out his catalogue that would send any four modern boy groups running, a human caterpillar of peroxide and leather squirmed into their seats. Here's what else they saw besides the storied, strangely dapper singer.

WHAT YOU COULD BUY: $10 Elton mouse pads, $15 keychains, $20 glossy programs, $25 mugs, $30 money clips (no joke), $35 ball caps, $40 T-shirts, and, the crowning glory, $75 pink and black polo shirts that should be illegal within 50 metres of planet Earth. The baseball jerseys, same price, were much nicer, though I'd hate to be the ballboy.

WHAT YOU COULDN'T BUY: Crocodile Rock candy, In the Wind candles, Goodbye Yellow Bricks, hair transplants, model Rocketman, enormous eyewear and anything with Lady Di on it, thank the maker.

DEMOGRAPHIC: Lots of 45-year-old women with leather jackets and fake leopard-print collars were prominent, their daughters and husbands in tow. Some women wore plastic yellow hats, big sunglasses and the smell of a few too many mint juleps on their breath. A very well-behaved crowd, according to security.

WORST SHADES: The "2000" glasses, with the middle zeros being the eyeholes. Sure they're cool today, but what about a year from now? Or two? Or 1,000?

SCARIEST ARCHITECTURE: The multi-armed light octopus dangling over John's black piano. Nightmares of that falling on him, ending his impressive career, have replaced the scary Captain Fantastic monster album cover in my head. Let me sleep, Elton! Let me sleep!

THINGS ELTON JOHN IS BETTER AT THAN THE BEATLES: Having new hits for the last few decades (even if it's Candle in the Wind three times); being on stage all by himself; being all parts alive; coming to Edmonton; weighing less than 450 pounds.

BEST QUOTE, OVERHEARD BY THE SUB BOOTH: "He wasn't really married - that was just a publicity stunt."