Rhinofy-Friends
I never saw the movie.
But I bought the soundtrack.
Elton John was a phenomenon, that occurred while I was away experiencing the first semester of my freshman year of college.
In 1970, Middlebury, Vermont was a dead zone. Not only were there no cell phones, but there was no cable TV and no DVDs, merely a college radio station of barely double digit wattage that featured self-important deejays whose music no one who was a fan would ever listen to.
I grew up in Connecticut, in the reach of New York media. I didn’t consider myself so hip, but by Middlebury College standards, I was on the cutting edge. Little did I know when I moved to Los Angeles I’d find tons of people just like me, who lived for the music, who knew every record and had been to every show.
But the buzz reached me. In "Rolling Stone". That was the highlight of my reading freshman year. I’d pack all my studies in from Sunday to Tuesday, Wednesday at worst, so I could spend hours poring over "Rolling Stone". And they said this cat from the U.K. was the new sensation. So I ordered his albums from the Record Club Of America. Both the American debut and "Tumbleweed Connection" had been released nearly simultaneously, they said "Tumbleweed" was better, and it was, but I needed to start off at the beginning, with the hit, with "Your Song", from the debut.
Which I heard on the radio when I was home for Thanksgiving. Didn’t sound like what I expected, it was almost wimpy. And I only heard it once, but when the LPs finally arrived in January, I got it, but even more I got "Take Me To The Pilot". But my favorite was "Where To Now St. Peter?", the opening cut off the second side of "Tumbleweed Connection", I’d drop the needle over and over, I just couldn’t get enough.
This was during the legendary winter of ’71, when snow fell in prodigious amounts and I skied every day and listened to music every night. Well, and got stoned every night, but that’s the story of the Moody Blues…
Yup, we played the Moody Blues and the Allman Brothers in Dave McCormick’s room downstairs in Hepburn Hall. And then I’d come home to my abode, with my straight roommate asleep, put on the headphones and drift away.
And by time I got home to Connecticut at the end of the school year, there were two new Elton John albums, "11-17-70", a live one, and "Friends", the soundtrack to a movie that was not yet out.
1. "Friends"
I hope the day will be alie the highway
For friends are found on every road
Can you ever think of any better way
For the lost and weary travelers to go
That’s how I always heard it, "alie" the highway. But online some say it’s "a lot" or "lighter" and in the days before the Net, you never really knew. And would Bernie really use "alie"? But in any event, traveling was the dream back in the seventies. Roaming around the country, having experiences. We wanted to put out our thumbs, get behind the wheel if we were lucky enough to have an automobile, and venture to California, where life was free and easy and different. But until we got there, the music tided us over, carried us through.
"Friends" was almost completely unknown. You see the album came out on Paramount’s label, the movie’s company, and it was cut out almost immediately. And…
Tragedy struck. Remember those arms that kept your records in place, on the turntable, so you could stack up six and let them play? I never used it, stacking records was bad for them. But on a late spring day, lifting the "Friends" soundtrack from the turntable, the record got caught on this arm and got scratched and this two and a half minute song, the first on the album, got a divot that emitted a sound for nearly half of it. I was heartbroken.
Until 1990, when suddenly it was on CD and I could hear it once again.
Listen to "Friends". It’s introspective, yet with hope. And unlike today’s hit parade, it’s forever.
Making friends for the world to see
Let the people know you got what you need
With a friend at hand you will see the light
If your friends are there then everything’s all right
And that’s what it comes down to, friends. The younger generation knows this, that personal achievement pales in comparison to being a member of the group.
But unlike today’s kids’ music, "Friends" was not to be shared with the group, it was positively personal. Because one person can never really know another, it’s the conundrum of life. But listening to great music, you’re no longer alone.
2. "Can I Put You On"
Listen to that SOUND! Sure, it’s an effect, but it sounds so RIGHT! The guitar echoes and slaps and then Elton comes in tickling the ivories like he’s in a gin joint…
I work for the foundry for a penny and a half a day
Like a blind street musician I never see those who pay
And the effect on "blind" might make modern people wince, but it’s what MAKES this record. You see in the early seventies we knew no limits, and this one expression exemplifies this.
And the verse is all sweet, but then the drums start to pound, the electric guitar starts to wail, the band is swinging and you’re instantly caught up in the party in your head. You’re nodding your noggin to the chorus.
And the track goes on forever, Elton vocalizes like in "Hey Jude" and you’re just enraptured.
But there’s more than that.
You see we knew London, but not much more.
It’s dirty work in Birmingham
Better deal for a Sheffield man
We had no idea where these places were.
And then comes the piece de resistance…
And a second cousin works in the pits in Newcastle on Tyne
Huh? WHERE?
That there could even be such a place.
And the salesman’s wearing a "trilby" hat… I still have no idea what a trilby is, it’s just as exotic as it was when I first played this cut forty years ago.
But "Can I Put You On" was never an underground track, because it was included on the aforementioned live album "11-17-70", on Uni, and it never went out of print.
Now the live take lacks Gus Dudgeon’s studio wizardry, but it’s so positively alive, you’d swear Elton was playing in that studio in New York City while you’re listening to it. He’s so ON! He knows his instrument like the back of his hand, he’s throwing in little fills, the band is rocking and he’s not selling us so much as BLOWING US AWAY!
Not that "11-17-70" was ever supposed to be released. It’s just that in the newly-nascent bootleg world it was a monster, so the label decided to cash in itself.
It’s only three people playing, Elton, Nigel Olsson and Dee Murray. Oh, what a glorious noise. Nigel’s pounding without demanding attention and Dee’s all over the track, playing both bass and lead, underpinning and dancing along at the same time.
Still, it’s the studio take that infects me, that I can’t let go of, check it out.
3. "Honey Roll"
And really, that’s all you need to know, those were the only two tracks I played again and again on "Friends", because they were so damn good. But even though "Honey Roll" is minor, it’s major compared to much of the dreck fighting for attention today. Because when you’re in the groove, you can’t fail, everything you do is good. And Elton was so busy working, so busy making it, his feet barely hit the ground, he had no time to think. The end result was drugs, no one can work that hard so consistently, so single-minded that not only does he not relax, he’s got no other life. But the crash didn’t happen for years.
4. "Michelle’s Song"
This is better than "Honey Roll". It sounds like movie music. Back when songs were written for inclusion in the film. It’s minor, but it gets under your skin.
5. "Variation On Friends", "Seasons", "Variation On Michelle’s Song (A Day In The Country)", "I Meant To Do My Work Today (A Day In The Country)", "Four Moods"
This is literally movie music. "Four Moods", which is unavailable on Spotify, was composed by Paul Buckmaster, one of the geniuses involved with Elton on those initial albums. Buckmaster’s orchestrations and Dudgeon’s production created a pure sound as unique as that of the Beatles. You know how the Beatles albums have a sound like nothing else, same deal with Elton’s.
6. "Seasons Reprise"
This reminds me of so many brief, final cuts. From the minute long title track that finishes "Tea For The Tillerman" to the only marginally longer "Father Of Night" on "New Morning". Simple, yet perfect, all of these tracks leave you wistful and the only thing you can do to fill the emptiness is to drop the needle and play the albums all over again.
