11-24-2004, 01:46 AM
I was nought but a lad when my brother came home from his tours of duty in Viet Nam and Thailand; still too young and the "war" too fresh for me recognize the futility of the conflict, he was a hero in my eyes. I was glad he was home and spent as much time as I could with him, doing everything, and nothing.
The soundtrack to this chapter of my life was provided by three battered eight-track tapes he brought home with him: Queen, Queen II, and Sheer Heart Attack. I was barely twelve years old and had never heard such thick, textured music or a singer with such an unusual, powerful voice. I became an instant fan and anxiously awaited each new release, much like I've done with The Hip over the last fifteen years or so.
I grew up in a southern region where concerts were few and far between but when Queen played on the other side of the state on September 4, 1977, my mother bought me tickets for what would be my first concert ever. A buddy and I road-tripped to the show, listening to the entire Queen catalog along the way, much like I've done for The Hip over the last ten years or so.
The diference between Queen and The Hip, between Freddie and Gordie, seems extreme and obvious; their sounds are practically diametrically opposite, yet, in contemplating the anniversary of Freddie's passing and re-reading Brian May's wonderful tribute / obituary originally published by BASCA in late November 1991, it's become clear that on an artistic level, there are far more similarities than differences.
I realize that Queen and their music are from a different time and a far different world than anything currently popular, but Freddie's talent as a writer and showman, and Queen's contribution to the musical landscape that has brought us to this point, in between evolution, are undeniably important and therefore, worthy of acknowledgement.
Here's what Brian wrote on that devastating November day in 1991:
If you're interested, the original page from the BASCA publication in which Brian's tribute appeared can be viewed HERE.
"The show must go on..."
~Scott
The soundtrack to this chapter of my life was provided by three battered eight-track tapes he brought home with him: Queen, Queen II, and Sheer Heart Attack. I was barely twelve years old and had never heard such thick, textured music or a singer with such an unusual, powerful voice. I became an instant fan and anxiously awaited each new release, much like I've done with The Hip over the last fifteen years or so.
I grew up in a southern region where concerts were few and far between but when Queen played on the other side of the state on September 4, 1977, my mother bought me tickets for what would be my first concert ever. A buddy and I road-tripped to the show, listening to the entire Queen catalog along the way, much like I've done for The Hip over the last ten years or so.
The diference between Queen and The Hip, between Freddie and Gordie, seems extreme and obvious; their sounds are practically diametrically opposite, yet, in contemplating the anniversary of Freddie's passing and re-reading Brian May's wonderful tribute / obituary originally published by BASCA in late November 1991, it's become clear that on an artistic level, there are far more similarities than differences.
I realize that Queen and their music are from a different time and a far different world than anything currently popular, but Freddie's talent as a writer and showman, and Queen's contribution to the musical landscape that has brought us to this point, in between evolution, are undeniably important and therefore, worthy of acknowledgement.
Here's what Brian wrote on that devastating November day in 1991:
Brian May Wrote:FREDDIE MERCURY: A MAGICAL FREE SPIRIT
IT SEEMS inconceivable that we now have to do without Freddie; this proud, vibrant, irreverent and passionately creative man surely can't have been extinguished in the prime of his life? Freddie was denied the privilege of growing old, but in 44 years he packed in enough living for a dozen lifetimes.
A child of strict upbringing, he was, when I met him some 25 years ago, an uncertain youth stepping into an unfamiliar world outside, but his head was full of great dreams and the certainty that they could be achieved. At the age of 20 he already lived the dreams, and behaved with a gentle grandeur that demanded respect. He looked and acted like a million dollars, though he had scarcely the bus far home on his person. (That never changed - later when his millions were safely in the bank, someone else always carried the purse!) Perhaps in changing his name just prior to our first record release, he decided to leave the fragile Frederick Bulsara at home under parental care, and become the god Freddie Mercury.
Freddie was a very uncommon creature in our time - a free spirit. He knew what he wanted to be and set about it with complete dedication. His loves were music and life; life was for living and enjoying to the full, and when life disappointed and hurt him, he poured all the more passion into perfecting his music, weaving his spells. He never hid in modesty. He gave himself credit for his own achievements and gave credit generously to the achievements of those around him. Freddie never did anything by halves; he had no time for anything but the best.
His spirit will live on as long as musicians strive to pour excitement, drama and mystery into their work.
I was fortunate to share in many moments of creation with Freddie, and I still hear his voice whenever a mediocre compromise is threatened "No Darling, we don't compromise". His songs say it all: The March Of The Black Queen, Lily Of The Valley, Killer Queen, Bohemian Rhapsody, We Are The Champions, The Miracle, Play The Game and many others - all have the finest shades of emotion among the bold strokes. Freddie never wanted to discuss his lyrics; "They should speak for themselves" was his curt dismissal.
But the imagination in those lyrics combined with a magical sense of melody, and a deft knack of sliding between keys at the drop of a hat, made him one of the truly original songwriters of our time. Person, writer and finally performer. This is where the superlatives run out. For, on a stage in front of 200 people or 200,000, he was, of course, matchless. Somehow by channelling his inner self through the heroic, yet intensely human figure that he had created, he reached out to every heart, every boy who ever struggled to be a man, every woman who wanted a man like this. He had the touch of genius which spurred us all to greatness. Freddie, you did it: you were the best: you changed the world.
God speed
Brian May
If you're interested, the original page from the BASCA publication in which Brian's tribute appeared can be viewed HERE.
"The show must go on..."
~Scott