Freddie Mercury: The Biography (27 page)

BOOK: Freddie Mercury: The Biography
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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.

Although Mercury had stopped stalking the gay scene, he still couldn’t resist occasional clubbing. Sometimes he’d pick up
a man and take him back for the night to his Stafford Terrace flat, while Hutton was at Garden Lodge. When Hutton found out
about these assignations, his retaliation could lead to terrible rows. The star didn’t like the thought of being paid back
in kind. Applying blatant double standards, on at least one occasion he threw Hutton out in a rage, although when he’d calmed
down he always pleaded with him to return. Despite his sycophantic and elastic entourage and the genuine love of his select
inner sanctum of close friends, Mercury had a fear of loneliness – and often dealt with this by spreading his options.

He seems to have not been able to commit himself entirely to one person. It is clear from his own comments over the years
that he was conscious of being in a very difficult position. To Mercury, dropping his guard and allowing someone access to
his inner self had resulted too often in being, as he put it, ‘trodden on’. He declared, ‘Because I’m successful and have
a lot of money, a lot of greedy people prey on me. But that’s something I’ve learnt to deal with. I’m riddled with scars,
and I just don’t want any more.’ He once gave this as an excuse for some of his most outrageous behaviour.

He wasn’t alone, however, when, soon after moving in to Garden Lodge, he hosted his fortieth birthday party there. Guests
were invited to arrive at the ‘Mad Hat’ party wearing a hat, and a variety of silly, sometimes rude, confections turned up.
Although Mercury had commissioned several special designs for himself, he ended up choosing none of them.

Ten days later the ballad ‘Who Wants to Live Forever’ was released. Then, mid-October, Queen received an award from the British
Video Awards for the best live-performance video for
Live in Rio.
Brian May and Roger Taylor went along to attend the ceremony – but without Freddie Mercury, who had his own reasons for not
showing up then.

On 13 October 1986 the
News of the World
ran a story, which the daily tabloids picked up the next day, revealing that Mercury had undergone a secret AIDS test at
the end of 1985. The star was furious but not able to discover how the press had got hold of their information. Mercury was
already edgy when he received an unexpected visit from John Murphy, the airline
steward with whom he had remained friends after a one-night stand. Murphy’s current lover was dying of AIDS, and Murphy himself,
looking cadaverous and frail, was also clearly ill with the disease. By the second week of November both men were dead.

Trying to calm his rising panic, Mercury no doubt reminded himself how brief his liaison with Murphy had been. But this was
cold comfort when just weeks later he received the news that his lover of two years’ standing, Tony Bastin, had also just
died of AIDS. Too many gay acquaintances were dead and dying – or just scared and shaken. Mercury’s initial reaction was hardly
to move from home. People who did meet him noticed that he seemed very preoccupied. He must have been terrified, but it was
not a state in which he intended to stay for long.

His solution to his anxieties was to distract himself with work. In January 1987 he began to record at the Town House Studios
with songwriter/producer Mike Moran, who became one of his closest friends. ‘Freddie and I met in the early eighties,’ says
Moran, ‘but the first thing we did together was when he recorded a couple of numbers for Dave Clark’s stage musical
Time.’
That experience led Mercury to ask Moran to produce him when he wanted to record a cover version of the Platters’ hit ‘The
Great Pretender’.

‘“The Great Pretender” was the first cover Freddie had done in his own name,’ says Mike Moran. ‘He had been attracted to the
number, because apart from really liking it, it was very him. He was a terrible show-off anyway. After we put down the track,
I said to him, “We really ought to think of a B-side,” and Fred replied, “Oh, bloody hell! I’d forgotten about that,” Well,
it was very late one night, and we were the best part of a bottle of vodka down, when Freddie started playing flashy piano,
and he suddenly turned and said to me, “Wouldn’t it be fun to do something classical?” “Exercises in Free Love” was the product
of this. There aren’t any lyrics. It’s more like Freddie flexing his scales.

‘After that he asked me if I’d be interested in working with him on a bigger solo project. Typical of Freddie, he had no idea
at that moment what it would be, but we booked a whole load of studio time just the same and started work. The first thing
we wrote and recorded was the track “All God’s People”, which actually ended up on Queen’s album.’

While all this was going on, events were at work that would eventually mesh with what Mercury and Mike Moran were doing. The
Spanish leg of the Magic Tour had been handled by the top Madrid-based concert promoter Pino Sagliocco. It was Sagliocco who
produced Ibiza ’92, the celebrations that led up to and included Spain’s role as host for the 1992 Olympic Games. Although
others, including Mercury himself, later claimed the credit, Sagliocco was the man responsible for controversially bringing
together Freddie Mercury and Spanish soprano Montserrat Caballé. Sagliocco’s connection with Queen had initially come through
Roger Taylor who owned a villa in Ibiza, and it was while organising his part of the 1986 tour that he first met Mercury.

‘I tried to get Roger to convince Freddie to let me arrange an interview,’ says Sagliocco, ‘but it was a very difficult thing
because he did not like to give interviews, and everyone told me he would not do it. Queen were in Spain in August, which
is a really weak time to get promotion, and the programme I wanted Freddie to appear on was not to be shown until October
– but it was called
Sixty Minutes of Spain
and to be seen on this show makes a big impact.

‘One night we were in a disco, and I was hassling Roger again to have another go at Freddie, and I don’t know if it was the
vodka talking but suddenly Freddie said yes, he would do it.’

Mercury’s interview was recorded at his hotel before Queen left Madrid and screened several weeks later. Sagliocco recalls,
‘When I watched this programme I was thinking of my main
opening for a TV special to be held at the Ku Club in 1987. During the show Freddie was asked which Spanish singer he admired
most and he replied, “Montserrat Caballé.” At that moment the idea came into my head, why not get Mercury and Caballé to perform
together for the Olympic celebrations?’

Driven on by the challenge of pulling off this remarkable duet, Sagliocco swung into action. ‘I sent a fax to Gerry Stickells
in Los Angeles,’ he says, ‘who told me to contact Jim Beach – who would ask Freddie on my behalf. At the same time I contacted
Montserrat through her manager.’ It was far from easy to get the two stars to say yes and as time passed an edge of desperation
crept in – until Sagliocco was forced to bend the truth.

He recalls, ‘Neither Freddie nor Montserrat would do it at first, and then Freddie said yes, thinking I had an agreement with
Montserrat.’ It got to the point that Sagliocco was scared to admit to Mercury, by now fired up by the prospect, that Caballé
hadn’t yet agreed. He admits, ‘By now Freddie’s only concern was that Montserrat would like his work so how could I tell him
the meeting was not yet fixed?’

It was late February 1987. ‘The Great Pretender’, produced by Mike Moran, had been released and had gone to number four in
the UK charts, giving Mercury his biggest solo hit. He was already in buoyant mood when news from Sagliocco delighted him
even more, as Moran recalls.

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