TWELVE
Death Knell
At the end of 1985 Mercury shocked Barbara Valentin and his friends in Germany by abruptly quitting Munich for good – leaving behind the life he had revelled in for years. He called himself a man of extremes and on occasions could effect sudden changes in his life with no apparent weakening. But he was not emotionless; indeed, his conversions nearly always had a serious reason. With hindsight his departure might have been linked to his fear of contracting HIV, but equally he appeared to those around him simply a changed man. In London he stopped trawling gay bars for just any pick-up, although he continued to cheat on Jim Hutton.
Infidelity in Mercury’s personal life remained normal for him, and his only steadfast commitment was to Queen. Throughout January they worked on the soundtrack for Highlander. On the album’s completion, their UK and US labels differed over which single to release first. Capitol Records opted for Mercury’s ‘Princes of the Universe’, while EMI preferred Roger Taylor’s ‘A Kind of Magic’, which was also the album title track. Both accompanying videos were impressive in their individual way.
For ‘Princes of the Universe’ Highlander’s star, French actor Christopher Lambert, agreed to recreate his screen character to enjoin battle against Mercury. And for ‘A Kind of Magic’, Mercury portrayed a magician who temporarily transforms three vagrants into rock stars. Its sophisticated animation guaranteed its unique appeal, and when ‘A Kind of Magic’ came out on 17 March, it claimed the number three spot in Britain and shot straight to the top in thirty-five other countries. The album release, to be backed by a major tour already many months in the planning, was set for summer, and in the intervening time all four band members pursued their own interests.
In Mercury’s case, having dabbled with ballet, he had now set his sights on the world of stage musicals – with a little help from his friend Dave Clark. Clark was staging Time, a lavish production with spectacular sets and ambitious special effects. Its theme was human survival, and the central character, a spiritual rock star, was played for the first year of its run by Cliff Richard, later replaced by David Cassidy. There was also to be an album featuring a variety of artistes, including Dionne Warwick, Stevie Wonder and Julian Lennon. Clark had asked Mercury to record a couple of tracks, as the show’s star, now knighted Sir Cliff, recalls, ‘Freddie got to record “In My Defence” for the album much to my chagrin, because the number was one of my favourites – and I’d really wanted to do it myself – but Dave Clark asked Freddie.’
It opened on 9 April 1986 at the Dominion Theatre, Tottenham Court Road. At this time Clark invited Mercury to dine with Lord and Lady Olivier; Lord Laurence had a cameo role in the musical in the form of a hologram. Mercury considered the great actor to be a theatrical legend and jumped at the chance. They met only once but, according to Lady Olivier, she and her husband knew that Mercury was a regular theatregoer, who had been to many of their productions at London’s National Theatre.
On his best behaviour that night, Mercury felt nervous. But that soon evaporated when he complained to Olivier about the treatment Queen had received from the music press. Olivier’s response had been a curt ‘Fuck the critics!’ Recalling that single meeting, Lady Olivier declares Mercury as ‘a most pleasing and courteous dinner companion’. The show’s reviews were also warm enough, and initially it drew capacity crowds. When Mercury’s single ‘Time’ was released on 6 May, though, it failed to crack the top three.
Despite Mercury’s complaint about bad reviews, when A Kind of Magic, the soundtrack album from Highlander, was released at the beginning of June, it charted at number one and eventually went double-platinum. Days later the band kicked off what would turn out to be their last tour. Called the Magic Tour, it began at the Rasunda Fotbollstadion in Stockholm, ending two months later with a massive outdoor gig at Knebworth Park in Stevenage, and proved eventful from start to finish.
Because of the criticism they had continued to suffer over Sun City, Queen had issued a press statement the previous December to the effect that they would never again visit South Africa. Six months on, they were greeted in Sweden by a chanting crowd of anti-apartheid protestors. Two days later the single, ‘Friends Will Be Friends’ was released; then when the tour reached France, Jim Hutton surprised his lover by joining him in Paris.
It was also in Paris that Marillion joined the tour. Says lead singer Fish, ‘We’d gone to support Queen on the open-air gigs, which were to be the last live dates that they’d do.’ Freddie was Freddie and kept himself to himself; a detachment that came as no surprise to Fish. He explains, ‘To do what we do, we have to be very selfish. Therefore when you’re talking of two solid cores of selfishness meeting, the odds are remote on you actually relating to somebody and getting to the point where you want to give something to each other intellectually.’
Marillion continued to support Queen when they arrived for a gig in Mannheim, Germany, where Fish remembers Mercury coming up with one of his more daft ideas for arriving on stage. ‘It was during the sound check,’ he says, ‘and Fred thought he’d try going up in a cherry picker – which is one of those enormous crane-type things used for doing up the overhead lights. So he climbed in, and it got so far up, when he got scared. I’m not surprised, but that was it. He scrapped the whole idea.
‘Freddie was, of course, the most outrageous front man. I watched him a lot during that tour, and I think he made me a little less self-conscious, simply because of his own performance. He was so cocky and totally self-assured, but then anybody who walks on a stage to perform in front of crowds of people has to have an enormous ego. It’s an incredible feeling of power and satisfaction.
‘There are so many different emotions involved. Some say it’s like sex, others that it’s like standing on top of a tall building and leaning over. You can’t equate it with anything else, at least nothing that I’ve found so far.
‘Freddie could switch himself on and off, as most people can. If you want to, you can turn on the stage stuff. There’s a mechanism that you’ve got to learn how to trigger and how to control. Freddie was a master of it.’ That night, Fish ended up on stage with Queen, dueting with Mercury on ‘Tutti Frutti’ as it was broadcast live on German radio.
On 11 and 12 July Queen returned to the scene of their Live Aid triumph a year before with two sell-out gigs at London’s Wembley Stadium. The extra date had been added because of the demand for tickets, and both were classic nights. Over the years Mercury had dazzled fans with his stage wear; antics that he once laughed aside saying, ‘It’s just theatre. I love a nice frock!’ During this tour his outfits, particularly the yellow-buckled jacket with tailored trousers, combined a rock-star look with a stylish maturity. But for those entertaining any notions that his talent for surprise had died, he was about to prove them spectacularly wrong.
Ending the final encore with ‘We Are the Champions’, their fans were in a frenzy. In tribute, Mercury punched one fist triumphantly in the air and spun on his heels off stage. He returned draped in a stunning red velvet silk-lined robe, trimmed with fake ermine and a six-foot train. Cradling his sawn-off microphone stand as a sceptre, he wore a jewel-encrusted coronation crown on his head. No other performer could have pulled off such a cheeky stunt – and with such style. He suited the regalia of an English monarch, and as the audience erupted with delight, he stood with his feet planted firmly apart, proud to receive their homage, as if he were, indeed, King Mercury. His ensemble was the work of designer Diane Moseley, and although both the cloak and crown were heavy, Mercury adored wearing them.
Energised by their shows, Queen’s post-Wembley rave at the Roof Garden above Kensington High Street carved a place in the band’s mythology. Over five hundred guests circulated in the beautiful rooftop restaurant, landscaped like a garden. Celebrity guests included Sir Cliff Richard, Sam Fox, Fish and Spandau Ballet, who were well acquainted with the band’s reputation for laying on exotic entertainment. Anticipation was high, and no one was disapp
ointed.
The uniform of every waiter was body paint, the work of German artist Bernd Bauer. Among the other delights laid on for the guests were a scantily clad woman on duty in the men’s toilets and an equally underdressed gent in the ladies – ready to render whatever assistance was asked of them. That night Mercury made a point to be seen publicly with Mary Austin on his arm. Jim Hutton was nowhere in sight.
Although Mercury had recorded tracks for the album Time, he and Cliff Richard had not met until the night of the Roof Garden party: ‘I have to say that previously I’d never been a fan of Freddie’s in terms of his kind of vocals,’ says Richard, ‘but I certainly admired his ability, including his skill on the piano, and, of course, he was such an extrovert showman.
‘Just the year before when Queen did Live Aid, although I myself couldn’t take part as I was committed to a gospel charity gig in Birmingham, I managed to see snatches of the show, and the second I saw Freddie launch into his act it was obvious that he was going to completely steal the show. When they returned to Wembley during their Magic Tour I couldn’t go to see them because I was on stage with Time, but they invited me to their aftershow party.
‘These kinds of parties are always the same – crowds of people – most of whom spend hours lining up to meet the star for usually no more than minutes, so it’s not really conducive to getting to know someone.’
Subsequently, Cliff Richard had the opportunity to meet Mercury at smaller gatherings, when, he says, ‘Freddie invited myself and a group of people to a few of his private parties at his home.’
With a solitary gig in Manchester a few days later, Queen then returned to Europe. By this time fatigue was setting in for Mercury, and he tried hard to avoid straining his voice. Through Germany and Austria they performed, reaching Hungary for a gig at Nepstadion in Budapest. Queen played to a capacity crowd with a huge number of ticketless fans hanging around in vain outside the venue. Mercury had learnt a couple of verses of the traditional folk song ‘Tavaski Szel’, which further endeared the band to the Hungarian people. Much has since been made of this gig, with claims that Queen’s performance made history as the first rock show behind the Iron Curtain. Certainly their appearance there would have been historic in terms of their own careers – but not in rock music. Nineteen years earlier the Rolling Stones had played at the Palace of Culture in Warsaw.
What did become a landmark gig in Queen’s career was the Magic Tour’s final date on 9 August at Knebworth Park, Hertfordshire, before a crowd of about 200,000. Held in 247 acres of magnificent parkland, against the backdrop of the romantic castellations of Knebworth House, it was to be Queen’s last live performance. Says Spike Edney, ‘The demand to see Queen had been strong enough to have staged a third night at Wembley, but that couldn’t be arranged.’ Gerry Stickells had then come up with the suggestion of an outdoor gig at Knebworth. The band agreed, providing he could guarantee a sell-out crowd.
Several rock groups have performed there, including the Rolling Stones, Frank Zappa and Led Zeppelin. Lady Chryssie Cobbold, whose family owns the Knebworth estate, remembers Queen as being different from the others: ‘We have often entertained the groups before,’ she says, ‘during or after their concerts, but in the case of Queen they were not interested in coming up to the house.’ With Mercury’s passion for grandeur, it was a surprising decision as much as a missed opportunity.
The gig itself was spectacular. ‘It was an amazing day,’ recalls Spike Edney. ‘We’d never played to such a large audience in the UK before, and it was incredible. No one knew at the time, of course, that it would be their last ever gig.’ The party afterwards stands out in his memory, too. ‘It was the usual Queen extravaganza, with everything from a fairground to female mud wrestlers.’
The band had been helicoptered in and out of the venue and Mercury, who had been especially tense with nerves before this performance, was the first to leave. Lady Cobbold confirms, ‘There was a backstage party after the concert, but Freddie left straight after finishing the gig.’
The previous month at Wembley, Mercury had referred on stage to press speculation that Queen were on the verge of splitting up. He denounced the busy rumours with the cry, ‘They’re talking from here!’ and pointed to his arse. But, in truth, as he had closed Knebworth with the words, ‘Thank you, you beautiful people. Good night, sweet dreams. We love you,’ the fact that the tour was over came as a huge relief to him.
Friction in the band had again been building. Mercury later confessed that there had been times when they had hated each other vehemently. Roger Taylor also revealed, ‘Our rows are partially a conflict of musical ideas and partially ego problems.’ Marillion’s Fish, straight from the Magic Tour, has no difficulty understanding these all-too-common problems. ‘Everyone in a band has to come to terms with ego,’ he says, ‘and understand that every member is important. And that as a band evolves to a point where there will be an incredible amount of friction as the pieces jostle for position, some bands don’t come through that stage. Marillion didn’t come through it. Queen did.’
Over the years Queen’s clash of creative forces had turned confrontational. Yet Mercury believed that had there not been fighting – if, for him, it had all been made too easy – then the quality of his work would have suffered. ‘I think because we all fight,’ he said, ‘you get the crème de la crème.’ Even so, while recording in Munich, tempers in the band had flared too often for comfort. One or another band member regularly threatened to walk out, finding fault with everything – major or minor.
One major ongoing resentment had developed over ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. Once the single had sold over a million copies, why should Taylor receive the same writing royalty as Mercury? After all, Taylor had only written the little known B-side ‘I’m in Love with My Car’. There had been contention of this kind for years, but Mercury felt that however heated their exchanges became, none of them got to the point of wishing to quit permanently. He remarked that ‘The four of us have said that this chemistry has really worked for us. So why kill the goose that laid the golden egg?’ He added, ‘Through anything, we will just carry on until one of us drops dead or something.’ Under the circumstances, it was nevertheless advisable to take a second break.
This time Mercury found time finally to take up residence in Garden Lodge, although he continued to maintain his Kensington flat. Joe Fanelli, Peter Freestone and the two cats were among those who moved in, too, along with Jim Hutton. At this time Mercury and Hutton entered into an unusual arrangement, whereby, despite the vast difference in their earnings, Jim Hutton, in effect, paid rent to his superstar lover. This would eventually cease, but in the beginning Mercury took half Hutton’s barber’s wage as board. According to Hutton, he was happy with this, believing that it preserved his independence.
With a lot of free time on his hands, Mercury could indulge whatever whim took his fancy, and it was around this time that he enjoyed his one experience of appearing in a stage musical. Time was still playing to full houses at the Dominion Theatre, and Mercury was delighted to take part in a one-off special, as Sir Cliff Richard recalls.
‘We had finished the show,’ he says, ‘but stayed on to do it all over again for a midnight charity performance, and Freddie joined me on stage to sing a couple of numbers – “Born to Rock ’n’ Roll” and the final song “Each and Every One of Us”.’ Doubtless Mercury suffered his usual pre-performance nerves when straying into unfamiliar territory, but both he and Cliff Richard ended up enjoying the experience. ‘It maybe didn’t last long, but at least I can say that I’ve performed on stage with Freddie Mercury,’ says Richard.
Although by no means a diehard Queen fan, Sir Cliff Richard admits that now and then one of the band’s numbers would impress him. He has, however, no doubt about where their strength lay. ‘Freddie had an amazing grasp of vocal harmonies and to me that was absolutely the core of the Queen sound,’ he says. ‘He was never shy of multi-tracking either and would produce layer after
layer of sound – a whole blanket of sound really, and that was peculiar to Freddie. It anchored Queen’s style to the point that you instantly recognised their work anywhere, anytime.’
As to the probability that Mercury might have branched into stage musicals in the future, Richard believes, ‘I think he very well could have been drawn there. Perhaps he wouldn’t have encountered anywhere near the same success – but that usually happens. But a performer of his calibre would always bring a certain audience with him to start with and would’ve reached out to a new one after that. He’d certainly have been capable of doing it.’
What Mercury was more than capable of doing was spending money. All this unexpected leisure time meant he could increase the frequency of his short but intensive shopping trips to Tokyo to buy expensive works of art and antiques and extend his collection of Dresden china. But his main home base from now on would be his sumptuous mansion, now extensively renovated and refurbished. Three rooms on the third floor had been knocked together to make one huge master bedroom – dominated by an enormous bed – with a splendid balcony.
In the garden he had special pools built and filled with his favourite exotic koi carp fish, and over the years he would accumulate another six cats on which to dote. Whenever he returned home, eight bundles of fur would converge to welcome him. When one once went missing he was so distraught that he organised a search party and was ready to put up a £1000 reward for its safe return. His close circle of friends often dined at Garden Lodge, and Peter Straker in particular was a frequent visitor. He and Mercury often talked the night away, listening to their favourite music while Jim Hutton waited upstairs in bed.
Freddie Mercury: The Biography Page 20