"Captain Jack" (Billy Joel)

My grandmother (RIP) used to work in the record department of a regional department store in Western NC when I was a little kid.  Her job was to inventory and stock all of the records and tapes and post the latest Billboard chart reports for the top singles of the week.  She often would know about new artists and songs before they ever got any airplay on local radio or MTV.  Pretty frequently, she would bring me home a new 45 of the next breakthrough artist or, at the very least, the sampler tapes they would play in store to promote that week's Top 20 singles.  It was so cool.
And even though she knew the difference between Debbie Harry and Madonna or knew that Sting had gone solo before the rest of the world got the news, she rarely liked any of the music that she had to stock.  The one exception was Billy Joel.  She took notice of Joel's music around the time An Innocent Man came out in 1983 and ended up buying several albums (tapes, actually) of his back catalog, including his breakthrough album from 10 years before, Piano Man (1973).
In particular, she liked the title song and played it quite a bit.  However, I gravitated to the very last track at the end of side two: "Captain Jack."  
I was probably 5 years old at the time I first heard "Captain Jack."  I had no clue (and neither did my grandma) that Joel was singing about bored, rich teenagers from Long Island coming into New York City to hang out and score heroin.  (Apparently, Joel got his inspiration for the song watching suburban kids come and go from a housing project across the street from his home, where they were buying heroin from a dealer named "Captain Jack.")  But you can about imagine the look on my grandma's face when I sang the line And you just sit at home and masturbate... one afternoon while she was babysitting me.  (Yeah.  That look.)
But it wasn't about the subject matter for me.  (Although, when I was older, I did come to appreciate Joel's frank and brutal approach.  It's a ballsy song lyrically.  It's definitely as nasty and cynical as Bob Dylan's best snark songs.)  It was all about that crushing riff, which snuck up and bombarded you via a twin bass-and-guitar attack, not to mention that soaring church organ that sounded like it was lifted right out of a piece by Bach or Beethoven.  I still can't help but crank up the volume on this song, especially on the last chorus before the fadeout.
Joel might have churned out radio-friendly hits and a bunch of multi-platinum albums after this.  But he never got this real and this close to Lou Reed-like commentary ever again.