Billy Joel, aka The Piano Man, considers himself a musical dinosaur but is proud to be in the company of other seniors — the Rolling Stones and U2 — who still tour and pack 'em in.

At 57, the iconic Grammy Award-winning powerhouse amps up the chatter and excitement level when he talks about the other slices of his diverse life: boat designer and builder, retro-motorcycle designer, philanthropist eager to support music education for youngsters.

However, pop music remains his central craft, and for the first time in 20 years he returns to Honolulu with an in-the-round (sort of) show Saturday night at the Blaisdell Arena. His piano will revolve on a turntable stage, giving fans equal opportunity to view him from changing angles.

"This tour has been doing great," he said in an exclusive long-distance call from Osaka on a Saturday afternoon (his Sunday), after shows in Tokyo. He was still perky despite the rigors of traveling.

"There's a lot of athletics to the job now, and it certainly was different in the old days," he said of the 1970s, when he was a fresh arrival on the scene.

"There's now a whole lot of physicality involved; I don't think it was as tiring when we were younger. The shows now are a workout — over two hours of cardiovascular stuff. Do this a couple of times a week, you keep in shape. Besides, you get energized by the audience; if it's a rowdy crowd with a lot of enthusiasm, you use that energy and run with it."

KEEPING THE FAITH

Joel is part of an elite club of rock vets still attracting throngs, despite the fact that his Top 10 hits dominated the charts in other decades.

"I'm a dinosaur," he quipped. "I feel like an antique. But these days, antiques have value; concert tours have become the battle of the dinosaurs. I think we have been traveling on the road for years, honing our craft, starting small by working clubs and colleges and becoming major recording artists, helping make the industry big."

Things have changed since Joel's 1980s "Uptown Girl" days.

"With the onset of iPods and downloading, many newer acts today can't do the level of concerts like our live shows. Fortunately for me and others of my generation, we know how to do it. A lot of young acts may have hits, but they don't get the chance to break through the conservatism of radio formats. I learned the traditional way: I played piano, wrote music, did the clubs like a throwback to the older era of jazz. The hard way is the right way."

MOVIN' OUT

His current tour launched in January, playing the Mainland for four months before going global.

"This tour has gone around the world," said Joel, "playing every continent except Antarctica and South America. We've done Hong Kong and Japan." From Honolulu he performs on Maui then returns home to New York. But that's not the end — he resumes the tour in February, trotting across America through March.

Despite his continued popularity, Joel is not always the best judge of his work, he admitted. Case in point: He was flattered, but doubtful, about the prospects of "Movin' Out," a musical marrying his songs to dance superstar Twyla Tharp's choreography. The show ran from 2002 to 2005 on Broadway, winning him a Tony Award for Best Orchestration in the process. Alas, a planned stop of the touring production in Hawai'i in September was canceled.

"I had no idea that it would be very successful," Joel said. "In fact, I thought it was going to be a huge catastrophe, which kind of appealed to me in a perverse way. ... Twyla Tharp, a brilliant choreographer, was going to put together a show around my music. The question I had: Was she going to pick up on the inner rhythms of the songs? Well, she did. Rhythm and counter rhythm. Double time. Half time. My only major input, when this was all coming together, was my insistence that she make a rock 'n' roll band play my music. I didn't want people to get on the platform as if they were singing 'Tonight' from 'West Side Story.' "

NEW YORK STATE OF MIND

Since the earliest days of his musical success, Joel has played another role as a quiet benefactor.

"We get overcompensated for what we do," he said of rock stars. "The way I look at it, if we don't look at finances, and how best to handle them, (the government) would take it all away. So we try to do what we can."

He contributes time and funds to many charitable organizations and has emerged as an industry advocate for music education. Among his pet projects: the Rosalind Joel Scholarship for the Performing Arts, named for his mother, at New York's City College in New York.

Joel grew up in Long Island, N.Y., surrounded by a watery setting, so he launched a boatbuilding, boat-designing company called Shelter Island Runabout, dealing with luxury yachts.

"I also have a motorcycle design company," he said, "where we take new motorcycles and make them look old, going for the retro look of the era of the 1940s and '50s. It's kind of like that with the boats."

His music, too, apparently.

"In a way, I do that old thing with my songs, too," said Joel. "Long ago, I learned that you write about what you know, what you lived, taking some kind of memory from life, or some kind of compulsion" that would evolve into a finished song.

"I first decide on a place, in a milieu which may be familiar. 'Uptown Girl,' for example, was a new song, but I made it sound old, like the Four Seasons. 'The Longest Time' also was new, with an old (doo-wop) feel."

THE ENTERTAINER

Joel grew up in a musical household — his father was a pianist and his mother a singer. "The piano was the only instrument in the house, so when I was a tiny kid, I would just bang on it," he recalled. His mother was not amused and dragged him down the street for lessons. "I wanted to play baseball like everyone else — but I'm glad I learned."

His first love "was classical music," said Joel, "because that's what I heard in my house." He favors Chopin and Beethoven.

When he was 12 or 13, he discovered The Beatles, "and went crazy like other adolescents." And that's about the time he decided music would be his life.

"I found out what I wanted to do at the young age of 12. All my friends were thinking of college," said Joel. "I played in a band at a church dance, and I had a great time performing Beatles songs, surf music, old-time rock 'n' roll. All of a sudden, some girl I liked looked at me, and I thought this was way cool. The priest gave us $15 after the dance. 'You mean you get paid for that?' I asked. I knew this was to be my life."

Reach Wayne Harada at wharada@honoluluadvertiser.com.