The Elegiac Sound of a Golden Duo’s Dissolution, a Sophisticated Requiem for Lost Artistic Unity.
The year 1981 was a moment of profound, quiet heartbreak for a certain kind of informed, musically obsessive listener. It was the year that the impenetrable, brilliant fortress of Steely Dan finally crumbled, as Donald Fagen and Walter Becker stepped away from their partnership. The air was thick with questions about their future, and the answer—the first public musical statement from the elusive Donald Fagen—came from the most incongruous of places: the soundtrack to the animated, adult sci-fi fantasy film, Heavy Metal. That lone track, “True Companion,” was a ghost in the machine, a shimmering, melancholic anomaly tucked between the raw, driving hard rock of Sammy Hagar, Black Sabbath, and Journey.
Key information: “True Companion,” written and performed by Donald Fagen, was his very first solo recording after the 1981 breakup of Steely Dan. It was released on the Heavy Metal: Music from the Motion Picture soundtrack album, which itself performed respectably, peaking at No. 12 on the US Billboard 200 chart. The song itself was not released as a single and therefore holds no chart position, yet its placement on the soundtrack introduced the world to the voice and sensibility that would define the post-Dan era.
The story of “True Companion” is inextricably linked to the dramatic, though often understated, separation of Fagen and Becker. After the exhausting, perfectionist rigor of recording 1980’s Gaucho—an album famously plagued by technical nightmares, legal battles, and drug-related incidents—the partnership was effectively dissolved. For years, the world had been accustomed to their seamless, complex weaving of lyric and melody. Suddenly, only one voice remained. The invitation to contribute to the Heavy Metal soundtrack served as a necessary bridge for Fagen—a low-stakes, high-profile project to test the waters of solo creativity before plunging into his masterpiece, The Nightfly, a year later.
The song’s five-minute duration is dominated by an extended, atmospheric instrumental opening, a breathtaking soundscape of glistening synthesizers and the signature, Fender Rhodes electric piano. It is a musical architecture that is both immediately recognizable as the sound of the late Steely Dan, yet notably missing the acerbic wit of Becker’s guitar and the layered cynicism of their usual themes. This instrumental prologue feels like an empty stage after the curtain call: all the exquisite gear is still there, but the drama is over.
When Fagen’s voice finally enters, buried under layers of his own vocal harmonies, the meaning of the song crystallizes. It is a deceptively simple, almost pure declaration of unconditional love and companionship—a genuine, unironic sentiment that was a rarity in the Steely Dan songbook. The lyrics speak of a search for a soulmate who can share a unique, perhaps non-conformist, worldview: “You’ve got to find yourself a true companion / Someone to make it with / Someone to share your wildest dreams.”
For the informed listener, the song is a magnificent, poignant drama of transition. It is the sound of Donald Fagen taking a deep breath and stepping forward alone. We who revered the golden duo felt every chord change, hearing the ghost of Gaucho in the pristine production, yet sensing a shift toward the futuristic, nostalgic sheen of The Nightfly. “True Companion” is not just a song; it’s a monumental moment in rock history, a fleeting, beautiful glimpse of an artist finding his solo footing, a sophisticated, elegant farewell to a chapter that had defined an entire decade of our lives. It remains a deeply emotional piece, a soft, guiding light for anyone who has ever had to face an uncertain future alone.