Queens’ Tragic Rhapsody
Theatrical, brilliant, excessive and doomed – there had never been another band like Queen or a frontman like Freddie Mercury
If Mercury’s homosexuality was ever an issue for Queen’s members, it never played out in public. There were more than enough other judgments beginning to bear down. In 1976, around the time A Day at the Races appeared, the punk movement began to draw divisions in rock, and harshly disparÂaged the music of bands like Queen. “A rock gig is no longer the ceremonial idolization of a star by fans,” declared New Music Express. “That whole illusion, still perpetuated by Queen, is quickly being destroyed.” (When Queen found themselves recording at a stuÂdio adjacent to the Sex Pistols, Sid Vicious reportedly asked Mercury, “So you’re this Freddie Platinum bloke that’s supposed to be bringing ballet to the masses?” Mercury replied, “Ah, Mr. Ferocious. We’re doing our best, dear.”) Whatever the reasons, Queen’s sound changed dramatically with their 1977 album, News of the World: This was much starker music; lush orchestrations and harÂmonies had been replaced with odd and novel constructions. May said, “We’d alÂready decided that we had saturated ourÂselves in multilayered production before the Sex Pistols came along, so we deliberately made News of the World to go back to the baÂsics and find some vitality again.”
Two of the album’s tracks, “We Will Rock You” and “We Are the Champions,” are Queen’s most widely known songs, and their most contentious. “Rock You,” written by May, opened with crashing stomps and a lyric that seemed to warn any doubters to clear way ”“ “Somebody better put you back into your place” ”“ and was taken by some as a refutation of punk. “We Are the ChampiÂons,” by Mercury, proved controversial even within the band. May was afraid it might be taken as oversized arrogance, and told Mercury, “You can’t do this.” Mercury said, “Yes, we can.” The two songs proved masÂsively popular ”“ and off-putting to some, helping inspire one Rolling Stone critÂic to scorn Queen as “the first truly fascist rock band.” Both songs, May has said, were designed to be stadium chants, “with audiÂence participation in mind.” In both songs, Taylor has said, “It’s meant to be a collecÂtive ”˜we’ ”“ meaning us, the audience, whoÂever’s listening. It’s not meant to say, ”˜We are the best fucking group, so up you’ ”“ more a sort of general bonhomie.” Some listeners have also heard “Champions” as Mercury’s sly, subversive avowal of gay forÂbearance, though all these interpretations have been upended by how the songs beÂcame the universal bully chants of victors at sporting events.
News was perhaps the best album Queen including Jazz (1978), The Game (1980), The Works (1984) and A Kind of Magic (1986) ”“ never again aimed for stylistic cohesion, but nonetheless produced a steady series of hits (among them “Under Pressure,” with David Bowie; “Radio Ga Ga,” by Taylor; “Crazy Little Thing Called Love,” by Mercury; and “Another One Bites the Dust,” by Deacon) that helped Queen attract larger and larger concert auÂdiences. Parts of those crowds, howÂever, may have got more than they anÂticipated. By the early 1980s, Mercury had grown weary of his ornate 1970s look. He cut his hair, slicked it back, wore either leathers or trim athletic outfits, and grew a bushy mustache. It was exemplary of what was known as the late-1970s muscled “gay clone” look ”“ a demeanor that the rock world was wholly unaccustomed to. By takÂing it onstage ”“ in particular during a Queen performance of “Another One Bites the Dust,” when Mercury pranced across the stage in tight shorts, firÂing out phrases like “bite it” and “bite it hard, baby” ”“ he seemed to come as close as he ever would to a public adÂmission of his sexuality. At some shows on the band’s 1980 American tour, fans tossed disposable razor blades onstage: They didn’t like this identity of MercuÂry ”“ what they perceived as a brazenly gay rock & roll hero ”“ and they wanted him to shed it.
