Rock’s best frenemies: Inside Rod Stewart and Elton John’s 50-year ‘war’

Phyllis and Sharon are at it again. Just when we thought things had gone quiet; just when it seemed as if a truce had been brokered; up pops Phyllis with a public jibe, pouring fuel on the fire. And if we know anything about those two old dears, it’s that once Phyllis gets chirpy, Sharon’s withering riposte is never far behind.

For the uninitiated, “Phyllis” is Sir Rod Stewart, and “Sharon” is Sir Elton John – the nicknames were given to them by a mutual friend in the Seventies. These enduring septuagenarian knights of British popular music have bickered, bitched and bantered about one another in the public arena for the better part of 50 years, and in a recent appearance on the BBC Sounds podcast Headliners, Sir Rod suggested things had frosted over again.

“He is my old mate. We don’t speak to each other much any more,” the 76-year-old said of his (slightly) younger pal. In fact they’ve not spoken since 2018, apparently, when Rod called Elton’s 300-date “farewell” tour a “dishonest” ploy to earn money that “stinks of selling tickets”.

He also let Elton, 74, know how he felt in writing. “I did email her [Elton] and say, ‘What, again dear?’ And I didn’t hear anything back.”

Until two years later, at least, when Elton added a new chapter to his autobiography, Me: “I certainly didn’t feel like I needed a lecture on the feral spirit of rock and roll from someone who’d spent most of the last decade crooning his way through the Great American Songbook and Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas,” he wrote. “What’s more, I thought he had a f------ cheek, complaining about me promoting a tour while he was sat on a TV show promoting his own tour.”

But on Headliners, Rod seemed to be offering an olive branch. “I miss him,” he said. “I invited his sons to play on my football pitch and never got a reply. We have not spoken since. He just had a hip op so I wish him well. We still love each other … We have rows. We sort of almost speak through the press.”

People have often accused rock stars of living on another planet – they’ve certainly levelled that at Elton, anyway – and the story of Phyllis and Sharon’s friendship is such that it could really only be conducted by egomaniacal, mega-rich celebrities. After all, who else could (or would) buy Rembrandt originals as a joke, hire snipers to sabotage the other’s tour, and converse largely through high-profile interviews or bestselling autobiographies?

It all began in the mid-Sixties, when they met on the London blues scene. Rod had been a vocalist for Long John Baldry & the Hoochie Coochie Men, and a couple of years later Baldry formed Bluesology, with Reg Dwight on keyboards and Elton Dean on guitar. When Dwight became a solo artist, he took Baldry and Dean’s first names and put them together.

A few years later, in 1970, Rod covered one of Elton’s earlier songs, Country Comforts, but changed the lyrics. “He sounds like he made it up as he went along! He couldn’t have got further from the original if he’d sung The Camptown Races!” Elton complained.

Since then, through hits, misses, marriages, children and addictions, “we’ve spent nearly 50 years constantly taking the p--- out of, and trying to put one over, each other,” Elton said.

The bad cover was forgiven, clearly, because by the early Seventies, when Elton’s then boyfriend lived near Rod, the two young singers became so inseparable that Baldry christened them Phyllis and Sharon. They’ve called each other by those names – or simply “dear” – ever since.

The pranking began soon afterwards, almost as a way of staying in touch while each jetted around the world. In 1978, Rod set off on the Blondes Have More Fun tour. Elton arranged for him to be followed by a sign that read: “But Brunettes Make More Money.”

Things then escalated in the Eighties. They really were mates – “We try and publicise the fact that we always have a go at each other in the papers, but in fact we do that for reasons only known to us, really. We’re actually very good friends,” Elton said in 1983 – but they were also persistent chart rivals. As Elton once quipped, “We’re all right until we both get in the Top 10.”

In 1985, Rod had a run of dates at Earls Court, publicising them by flying “massive footballs, the size of blimps” above the venue. As he recalled in Rod: The Autobiography, “Elton hired a sniper to shoot them down with an air rifle.”

Or as Elton put it: “So I called my management and they hired someone to shoot it down: apparently it landed on top of a double-decker bus and was last seen heading toward Putney. About an hour later, the phone went. It was Rod, spluttering about the disappearance.”

Hell hath no fury like a preening rock star scorned, of course. A year later, Elton was playing Olympia, with a banner of his face across the street. “It was mysteriously cut down immediately after it was put up,” he said. The phone rang. “Such a shame about your banner, love,” came Rod’s voice. “I heard it wasn’t even up five minutes. I bet you didn’t even get to see it.”

There were good times, like when Elton convinced Rod to dance at a club by giving him poppers; and easy shots, like when he called Rod to let him know he’d just seen Johnny Rotten on TV calling Rod “a useless old f-----” (“You’re only 32. How awful for you…”), and their own version of support through the bad, too.

After Elton took an 18-month break to go to rehab in the mid-Eighties, he returned by surprising Rod by appearing in full drag on stage at Wembley, sitting on his friend’s lap while he sang You’re in My Heart. Elton then beguiled the world by marrying a woman, Renate Blauel, in 1984. Rod could not resist. His manager sent Elton a telegram: “You may still be standing, dear, but the rest of us are on the f------ floor.”

Do they really dislike one another? Almost certainly not. The rivalry might be real but you sense the personal feud is one very long in-joke. Rod even tweeted a link to an article about their relationship two years ago. “Stand firmly with team Phyllis!” he urged his followers. Let’s hope he hasn’t noticed that Elton has 600,000 more.

Perhaps they can patch things up before Christmas. Previous gifts from Elton have ranged from a “lavish, thickly jewelled [watch] engraved ‘From Elt’”, to a Steinaway piano for Rod’s first wife, Alana. Admittedly, this is just another area of competition. Unsure what to buy the man who has everything, Rod once gave Elton a £300 novelty portable fridge. Elton returned the favour with “a f------ Rembrandt! I felt pretty small”.

On another birthday, the follically blessed Rod bought his balding friend “a full-size, sit-under hair dryer, like the ones you see in women’s hair salons”. Meanwhile, Elton’s wedding present when Rod married his third wife, Rachel Hunter, was a £10 voucher from Boots. On the card, he wrote, “Get yourself something nice for the house.”

If Rod’s latest interview is to be believed, Elton hasn’t seen how that voucher was spent yet. Maybe the comment’s a ruse – or maybe it’s bait. Phyllis and Sharon have done worse. For all of our sakes, though, let’s hope rock’s greatest frenemies haven’t retired their antics just yet. The world would be far duller without them.