Most people think they know the early Elton John story. You’ve seen Rocketman. You know about the glasses, the glitter, and the legendary residency at the Troubadour. But if you dig through the crates of 1971, you’ll find a weird, beautiful anomaly that almost everyone ignores: the soundtrack to a tiny movie called Friends. It wasn’t just a throwaway project. Honestly, Friends by Elton John represents the exact moment the Bernie Taupin and Elton partnership shifted from "promising songwriters" to "global icons."
It’s a soundtrack. It’s a studio album. It’s a time capsule.
The film itself—a French-British teen romance about two runaways having a baby in the marshes of the Camargue—is pretty much forgotten. It’s a bit kitschy by today’s standards. But the music? The music is haunting. It’s some of the most stripped-back, vulnerable work Elton ever tracked. If you’re used to the stadium-shaking anthems like "Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting," this record is going to catch you off guard. It’s quiet. It’s lush. It sounds like a cold morning in 1971.
The 1971 Chaos: Where Friends Fits in the Timeline
To understand why this record sounds the way it does, you have to look at Elton's schedule. It was insane. Between 1970 and 1972, the man was a machine. He released Elton John, Tumbleweed Connection, Friends, Madman Across the Water, and Honky Château. That is a run most bands couldn't achieve in a lifetime.
Friends was recorded in the middle of this whirlwind. Specifically, it was tracked at Trident Studios in London around September 1970. Elton wasn't a superstar yet. He was still just "Reg from Pinner" trying to make good on a film commission. The producer wasn't Gus Dudgeon, who handled the heavy hitters; it was Paul Buckmaster, the legendary arranger who gave "Your Song" its strings.
Because Buckmaster was at the helm, the record feels more like a classical suite than a rock album. There are long orchestral interludes. There are recurring motifs. It’s sophisticated. You can hear the influence of Buckmaster’s work with Miles Davis and David Bowie bleeding into the arrangements. It’s not just pop. It’s art.
Breaking Down the Title Track
The song "Friends" is the anchor. It actually managed to climb to number 34 on the Billboard Hot 100, which is wild considering it’s basically a folk ballad.
Bernie Taupin’s lyrics here are deceptively simple. He’s writing about the innocence of the two characters in the movie, Michelle and Paul. But there’s a universal ache in lines like "I hope the day will be a lighter highway." It’s about the fragility of human connection before the world ruins it.
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Musically, it’s a masterclass in tension. Elton’s piano is steady, but those Buckmaster strings? They swell in a way that feels hopeful and tragic at the exact same time. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to call your old high school buddies just to see if they’re okay. Weirdly, the song was nominated for a Grammy for Best Original Score Written for a Motion Picture. It lost to Shaft by Isaac Hayes. To be fair, Shaft is a bop. But "Friends" had soul.
The Deep Cuts You’re Missing
If you only listen to the title track, you’re doing it wrong. You’ve got to hear "Can I Put You On."
This track is the outlier. It’s a gritty, funky rocker that feels more like the Elton John Band we’d come to know later in the decade. Caleb Quaye’s guitar work is filthy here. It’s a reminder that even when Elton was doing "high art" soundtrack work, he still wanted to be a rock star.
Then there’s "Michelle’s Song." It is, quite simply, one of the prettiest melodies Elton John ever wrote. It’s pure pastoral pop. If you like "The Greatest Discovery" or "First Episode at Hienton," this is your jam. It captures that specific British rainy-day vibe. It’s delicate. You feel like the song might break if you turn the volume up too high.
Why the Critics (and the Public) Moved On
So, why isn't this talked about alongside Goodbye Yellow Brick Road?
A few reasons. First, the movie flopped. When a movie disappears, the soundtrack usually goes with it. Paramount Pictures didn't really know how to market a film about two fourteen-year-olds living in a hut and having a baby. It was controversial and, frankly, a little slow for American audiences.
Second, the legal stuff. The rights to the Friends soundtrack were a mess for years. It was released on Paramount Records, not Elton’s usual labels (Uni or DJM). For a long time, it was out of print. You had to go to used record stores and dig through the $2 bins to find a beat-up copy with a ring-worn cover.
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Third, Elton himself kind of buried it. By the time the soundtrack was gaining steam, he was already onto Madman Across the Water. He was becoming a phenomenon. The quiet, orchestral musings of a French film soundtrack didn't fit the "Rocket Man" persona he was building. He was moving forward at a hundred miles an hour. He didn't have time to look back at a project he finished in a few weeks.
The Connection to the Elton John "Formula"
You can see the DNA of his future success all over this record.
- The Piano Dominance: The way Elton uses the piano as both a percussion instrument and a melodic lead is fully formed here.
- The Orchestral Integration: This project taught Elton and Bernie how to work with a full orchestra without losing the "rock" edge.
- The Narrative Songwriting: Bernie was writing for characters, which helped him hone the storytelling skills he’d use on albums like Tumbleweed Connection.
It’s basically the "Lost Session" that bridges his folk-rock period and his glam-rock period. Without the experimentation on Friends by Elton John, we might never have gotten the sprawling arrangements of "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding."
Collecting the Record Today
If you’re looking to add this to your collection, you’ve got options, but you need to be careful. The original 1971 vinyl on Paramount is the "pure" experience. Look for the gatefold sleeve. The photography inside is gorgeous and captures that 70s grain perfectly.
In the 90s, the tracks were finally remastered and included on the Rare Masters compilation. That’s the easiest way to hear them in high fidelity. But honestly? There’s something about the warmth of a scratched-up LP that suits this music. It’s supposed to sound a little dusty.
It’s worth noting that Elton re-recorded a few of these songs later. But the originals are where the magic is. They have a rawness. Elton’s voice was still developing; it was higher, thinner, and had a nervous energy that he eventually traded for the powerhouse grit of his mid-70s peak.
The Legacy of a Forgotten Era
Is it his best album? No. Is it essential? Absolutely.
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We live in an era where everything is "content." We consume music in 15-second TikTok clips. Friends asks for the opposite. It asks you to sit down for 35 minutes and feel something. It’s a mood piece.
When you listen to the instrumental tracks like "Variation on Michelle’s Song (A Day in the Country)," you realize how much work went into this. It wasn’t a paycheck for Elton. He was pouring his heart into these melodies. He was proving he could play in the big leagues of composers.
How to Experience Friends Today
If you want to truly appreciate what happened here, don't just put it on as background music.
- Find the Rare Masters version or a clean vinyl copy to avoid the muddy sound of old bootlegs.
- Listen to it in order. The album is sequenced to follow the emotional arc of the film.
- Pay attention to the percussion. Nigel Olsson and Dee Murray—the legendary rhythm section—are all over this. Their chemistry was already undeniable.
- Watch the movie (if you can find it). It’s a trip. Seeing the visuals of the French countryside while "Honey Roll" plays gives you a whole new perspective on the lyrics.
The reality is that Friends by Elton John is a reminder that even the biggest stars have "lost" chapters. This isn't just a soundtrack; it's the sound of a genius finding his voice in real-time. It’s messy, it’s beautiful, and it’s deeply human.
In a world of polished, over-produced pop, maybe a 1971 soundtrack about teenage runaways is exactly what we need to hear. It’s not perfect. But that’s why it’s great. It feels real. It feels like a secret shared between the artist and anyone lucky enough to find the record.
Stop skipping the "Soundtrack" section of the discography. Dig into the tracks that didn't make the greatest hits albums. That’s where the real Elton John lives. In the quiet moments between the hits. In the strings of a forgotten French romance. In the simple, honest beauty of a song called "Friends."
To get the most out of your listening session, compare the version of "Friends" on this soundtrack to the live versions Elton played in the early 70s. You'll notice how he started to "beef up" the song for live audiences, adding more theatricality. But the studio version remains the definitive take. It’s the version that captures the vulnerability of being young and terrified of the world. That feeling never goes out of style. Once you’ve mastered the soundtrack, move on to the other "orphan" tracks from this era, like "Rock and Roll Madonna" or "Grey Seal" (the original version), to see how Elton was experimenting with his sound before the world decided who he was supposed to be.