After 15 grueling rounds, Muhammad Ali defeated Earnie Shavers at Madison Square Garden in September of 1977. The Vicious/Mercury bout didn’t last quite as long. That July, Sid Vicious went up against Freddie “Mr. Fahrenheit” Mercury at London’s Wessex Sound Studios. Queen were recording News of the World and the Sex Pistols had been spewing out Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols. At one point, Vicious snarked, “Ah, Freddie Mercury, have you succeeded in bringing ballet to the masses then?” Mercury responded, “Oh yes, Simon Ferocious. Well, we’re doing our best, my dear.” That would be an understatement.
A quarter-century after Mercury’s death, Queen were still reaching the masses, including a grown man in a “THESE PRETZELS ARE MAKING ME THIRSTY” shirt. The gentleman and his two friends, fiftysomething Long Islanders, were on the train to Atlantic Terminal. They wore shorts, which along with the goofy Seinfeld-related shirt, exemplified how the line between tourists and Long Island residents can often be an anorexic one.
We were all looking forward to the Queen + Adam Lambert show at the Barclays Center. It was Friday night, the start of a weekend-long rock’n’roll odyssey, seeing acts that got me into music as a child in the ‘70s. Aside from Queen, there was The Classic East at Citi Field on Saturday and Sunday. As a guitar fanatic, seeing Joe Walsh, Vince Gill, Neal Schon, Lindsey Buckingham, John McFee, Larry Carlton, and Brian May in a three-day span, was like visiting paradise with amps. Queen’s stage had even been designed to resemble May’s iconic Red Special guitar, which he and his father built in the early ‘60s.
Since this year is the 40th anniversary of News of the World, the killer robot from the album cover made various appearances during the show. The evening started when the giant screen in front of the stage shook a few times, until the robot punched through it, revealing the band launching with most of “We Will Rock You,” which segued right into “Hammer to Fall.” Just five minutes in, May showed why he’s one of the most distinctive musicians of his generation, playing abrasive riffs that made middle-aged men bang their heads, and melodic solos that had the grandeur of vintage Disney scores.
“Stone Cold Crazy,” from 1974, anticipated thrash metal, punk, and Van Halen. In Brooklyn, it sounded as turbo-charged as ever, thanks in part to the grey-bearded, legendary drummer Roger Taylor, who looked like King Lear with shades. He turned 68 a few days before, and May celebrated his 70th birthday the previous week. Remember when senior citizens were usually associated with early-bird specials and shuffleboard? The 21st century and its influx of new “old” people like Taylor and May have obliterated those images, each performance a roaring funeral for antiquated notions.
After “Stone Cold Crazy,” “Another One Bites the Dust,” “Fat Bottom Girls,” and “Killer Queen” followed; thrash, disco, hard rock and vaudeville all in a row. Not many acts can pull off that kind of remarkable versatility. And with “Killer Queen,” they even made jaunty soft-shoe vaudeville sound menacing. The momentum got temporary stalled however, when Adam Lambert performed his new single “Two Fux,” featuring the defiant chorus, “I don’t really really give two fux!” Unfortunately for him, neither did all the people taking beer and bathroom breaks.
Aside from that slight blip, Lambert did an excellent job in a daunting situation. He was especially impressive performing the South Asian-influenced wordless vocals during the extended middle section of “Get Down, Make Love,” similar to the psychedelic orgasmic freakout in Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love.”
With Mercury, Paul Rodgers, and Lambert, Queen have had three virtuoso vocalists/dynamic frontmen. So it’s easy to forget that Taylor is an exceptional singer as well, to the point where he could be the lead vocalist in most other bands. “I’m in Love With My Car” was a perfect showcase for his grand sandpaper voice. Only Queen could make lyrics like “When my hand’s on your grease gun, oh it’s like a disease son” sound regal.
“I Want It All,” and in particular the guitar solo, is the reason you see live music. That’s the instant when the song switches from mid-tempo to full-on rave-up. May was shredding while the rest of the band matched him in speed and volume, concluding on a majestic note, sounding like the King and Queen’s Royal Entrance. Changing up the pace, the ballad “Love of My Life” featured just May on vocals and acoustic guitar, until a projection of the ‘80s mustached Mercury joined him. The audience greeted and later bid adieu to the projection like it was an old friend. A very strange, yet powerful moment.
Mercury was a spectral presence throughout the night, perhaps none more so than when a snippet of the studio version of 1976’s celestial cabaret “You Take My Breath Away” glided through the arena. That was used to preface “Who Wants to Live Forever,” from the beloved 1986 action/fantasy Highlander. It was opera with hot guitar licks, and Lambert’s tour de force, as he did justice to Mercury’s original towering performance.
The mood at Barclays went from verklempt to childlike wonder, as May rose to the stage in the robot’s giant hand, a hurricane emanating from his Red Special. Grown men screamed for their youth in response. It was the dynamic start of his guitar solo, which also included a fragment of 1991’s melancholy “Bijou.” The solo varied in sound and mood, equal parts substance and spectacle, a microcosm of the evening, and Queen’s entire career.
“Radio Ga Ga” reminded everyone that Queen could do lush ‘80s synth-pop as well as anyone. Considering that music in the 21st century has been the sonic equivalent of the Trump administration, “Radio Ga Ga” is actually more relevant now than when it was released in 1984, one of pop music’s finest hours.
As a two-year-old in the Spring of ’76, I used to sing along to the operatic section of “Bohemian Rhapsody” in the back of my family’s ’72 Chevrolet Vega, just like the doofuses in Wayne’s World. Being so young, I was awestruck experiencing this larger than life, Technicolor rock opera. Fast-forward four decades, that feeling hadn’t changed. Especially for the first guitar solo, when May once again rose to the stage, this time covered in mist, and wearing a gold cape, similar to the white one he wore in the video. I’d never cheered a 70-year-old man in a cape before, but there’s a first time for everything.
“We Will Rock You” and “We Are the Champions” ended the show, immediately taking me back to Rego Park, when I was four and constantly playing the News of the World 8-track. The latter was a perfect example of how Queen brought sophistication and culture into hard rock, or as Sid Vicious put it, “bringing ballet to the masses.”
The voyage through the past was off to a memorable start.
Matt Leinwohl