Read Mercury: An Intimate Biography of Freddie Mercury Online
Authors: Lesley-Ann Jones
There were sound reasons for keeping a low profile, as far as Freddie was concerned—not least the shame of having to admit to his parents that he was gay. The pain and embarrassment that this could cause them in their Parsee community was unthinkable. There was also, for Queen and Jim Beach, the not inconsiderable question of their recording contract. With albums still owing, the last thing they needed was the suggestion that Freddie might not live long enough to fulfill their obligations to EMI.
Christmas 1986 saw the release of Queen’s
Live Magic
album, featuring live recordings of many favorite hits. The band would now take the next year off, to rest, take stock, and focus on solo work.
For all his inner torment, Freddie appeared serene. At long last, he had struck the perfect work-life balance. Although he knew that he was marking time, he would do it in style. He’d get up late; invite a few friends over for brunch or eat out locally; sit chatting for hours, rest a while, then give a supper party at home or take his entourage out to a restaurant for the evening. On his return, he would work in his studio into the small hours. Now and then he would make the short journey to Queen’s production offices on Pembridge Road, Notting Hill; attend a couple of business meetings; pop in to Christie’s or Sotheby’s to see what antiques or oriental art might be coming up for sale. He was “always busy, seldom rushed. It was a pleasant, convivial lifestyle.” But there was a sell-by date, and it was looming.
With the
Barcelona
album I had a little bit more freedom and a bit of scope to actually try out some of my crazy ideas. Montserrat kept telling me that she found a new lease of life and a newfound freedom. Those were her own words, and I was very taken by it. She told me on the phone that she loves the way our voices sound together . . . and I was smiling from my ass to my elbow, my dears. I sat at home like I’d just swallowed the canary, thinking, Ooh! There’s a lot of people who’d like to be in my shoes right now.
Freddie Mercury
People say that “Barcelona” is in some respects a rather trivial pop song, that it’s cod opera. It isn’t at all. In other circumstances, with that melody, it could have been part of a grand opera. It wouldn’t have been laughed out of court.
Sir Tim Rice
H
is first
attempt at a solo album having failed to stun, Freddie was hell-bent on proving himself.
He chose Townhouse Studios on the Goldhawk Road, West London, for his follow-up, primarily because it was easily accessible from Garden Lodge. One of Britain’s most famous recording studios, Townhouse,
now closed, was built by Richard Branson in 1978 and later taken over by the EMI/Virgin group. Frank Zappa, Bryan Ferry, and Tina Turner, to name a few, had toiled there. Studio Two can be seen in Bob Dylan’s strange feature
Hearts of Fire
. Elton John would record his tribute to Diana, Princess of Wales there, on the afternoon of her funeral in 1997.
At Townhouse, Freddie experimented with Buck Ram’s classic “The Great Pretender.” A huge hit for Ram’s protégés the Platters in 1956, the song, recorded over the years by Pat Boone, Roy Orbison, Sam Cooke, Dolly Parton, and the Band, and having inspired the name of Chrissie Hynde’s group the Pretenders, was notably covered by Gene Pitney in 1969. Pitney’s was clearly the version on which Freddie based his, although early demos lean more towards the Platters’ take.
So delighted was Freddie with his efforts that he couldn’t wait to film the promo video. The dramatic £100,000 effort was filmed in three days by MGMM, and produced by Scott Millaney with David Mallet directing. Freddie even shaved off his moustache for the shoot, in keeping with the slick image he and Mallet created.
With its sweet, sentimental overview of Queen history—the film incorporated iconic scenes from earlier videos such as “Bohemian Rhapsody,” “Crazy Little Thing Called Love,” “It’s a Hard Life,” and “I Want to Break Free”—it was to become one of the best-loved promos ever. Although this would not be the last video he would make, it was widely regarded after his death as “Freddie’s Farewell.” He dragged up again with Roger Taylor and Peter Straker as “backing singers”—although Taylor and Straker were seen but not heard. Despite the fact that they are credited as backing vocalists on the single, they only mimed for the video. Freddie recorded all the vocals for the track himself. In a number of sequences, Freddie sported the same costumes he had worn for the original shoots, which Diana Moseley had in storage. They still fitted him perfectly. An even more outrageous video was released a month later, showing the making of “The Great Pretender” in graphic detail.
“The Great Pretender” single was released in February 1987, and reached Number Four in the UK. It has since appeared on countless
compilations. It stands today alongside “Bohemian Rhapsody” as a testament to the tormented soul behind the rock star, a rare glimpse into the mind of the Freddie within. In his final filmed interview, in spring 1987, Freddie admitted that this song more than any other summed up his career. The “tears of a clown” motif creeps in again—“Just laughing and gay like a clown”—and the song’s most telling lines tear at the heartstrings: “Oh yes, I’m the Great Pretender / Pretending that I’m doing well / My need is such / I pretend too much / I’m lonely but no one can tell.”
He said it reflected perfectly how performing on stage for thousands of fans at a time really made him feel. Was it worth it, I wonder? We’ll never know. But we can see, given Freddie’s genius for the craft of songwriting, that his rendition of “The Great Pretender” is a tragic irony. The song he chose as being the one that best described him was a song that Freddie had not written for himself.
During the Magic tour, in August 1986, Freddie had given a radio interview during which he was asked, “Who has the best voice in the world?” “I’m not just saying this because I’m in Spain,” he replied, “but as far as I’m concerned, Montserrat Caballé has the best voice of anybody in existence.”
“Montserrat heard about what Freddie had said,” Peter Freestone told me. “She had already been approached regarding the 1992 Olympics, Barcelona being Montserrat’s hometown.”
While no one remembers whose idea it was, a plan began to evolve featuring Freddie and Montserrat duetting on an Olympic anthem.
“Jim Beach had some discussions with Carlos, Montserrat’s brother and business manager,” said Peter. “It was then put to Freddie, who readily agreed—it would give him his longed-for opportunity to work with her. He was completely seduced by the idea of another worldwide television audience, having got the taste for it at Live Aid. A meeting was duly arranged in Barcelona in March 1987. Montserrat sent Freddie some videos of her performing. In return, she asked for the complete works of Queen.”
Freddie was unusually nervous as he flew to Spain with Peter, Jim Beach, and the producer Mike Moran, whom Freddie had met and befriended on Dave Clark’s musical
Time
. When they arrived at the Ritz Hotel that Tuesday, they were kept waiting for what seemed like hours. “Montsy” was in the habit of turning up late.
“Lunch took place in a private garden dining room with a piano placed specially in one corner,” Peter said. “Freddie had a rough tape with a song and a few little ideas on it, which I had to guard with my life. There was “Exercises in Free Love,” plus what would become “Ensueño,” and some ideas for other tracks. I noticed that Freddie and Montserrat were both very much in awe of each other, but so excited at the prospect of working together. They hit it off, and the lunch was a great success.”
Montserrat had an engagement at the Royal Opera House in London a few days later, after which she visited Freddie at home for the first time.
“Opera stars love to go to bed early, because of The Voice,” said David Wigg.
“But Montserrat came to Garden Lodge one night for dinner, and she stayed up with Freddie until five in the morning, he and Mike on the piano, her singing Queen songs, mostly. How she knew them, I’ll never know. Freddie had the most incredible range of any rock star, but he was blown away by hers. Montserrat and Freddie met their match in each other.”
“Mike Moran was there, and it didn’t take them long to hit the piano,” recalls Peter. “It was an unforgettable night. Freddie and Montserrat were completely natural with each other. They drank champagne and fooled around, just jamming—if that term can be applied to an opera singer. Their formal studio work together was never as relaxed as that night at Garden Lodge.”
The following month, Queen were honored with another Ivor Novello award, for Outstanding Contribution to British Music, after which Freddie turned his attention to what would be his final solo album.
Barcelona
would be produced by Mountain Studios’ David Richards, whose work was cut out: “La Superba” was in huge demand by opera houses and concert halls all over the world, and her diary was booked up five years in advance. She did not have much time to hang out or dabble in the studio, the way Freddie liked to work. The bulk of the production was done long-distance over the next nine months, with Freddie dispatching tapes of near-completed tracks featuring his own falsetto vocals, for her to add her soprano in their place. If not an ideal way to work, the result was stunning, and one of the greatest achievements of Freddie’s life.
Tim Rice’s companion at that time was
Evita, Cats
, and
Chess
star Elaine Paige, who was working on an album of Queen covers approved by Freddie. Freddie and Tim had met through Elaine, and had become good friends. Tim contributed lyrics to “The Golden Boy” and “The Fallen Priest” on the
Barcelona
album. The first featured a celebrity gospel choir lineup including Blue Mink’s Madeline Bell, Peter Straker (again), and South African session singer Miriam Stockley. The second was something of a Moran masterpiece, on which he conducted the orchestra, wrote all the arrangements, and played piano and keyboards.
“Montserrat and Freddie sang these two songs as duets,” Tim told me. “They were both interesting. Neither of them great songs, but great musical chunks. Freddie was a man of great culture, taste, and musical gifts, who was really obsessed by opera. That was his big love in the last few years of his life. When we went round to his house, he would play videos of all these divas, and he’d get so excited by them. Maria Callas, Montserrat Caballé, Joan Sutherland, all singing these great arias. To a certain extent he educated me, as I really didn’t know anything much about opera.
“I believe it was one way of Freddie having love for women which he could really express and indulge in. Because Freddie adored women. He reveled in their femininity, the way they looked and dressed, and smelled, even. In their differences from men. He quite obviously loved Mary. When I used to go out to dinner with him and Elaine, he really
enjoyed her company. There was no question of him cutting women out. He very much wanted them in his life. I never went to any of his wild parties, but I did go to some dinner parties of Freddie’s. There might be twenty, thirty people there, and at least half of them were always ladies.”
Towards the end of May, Freddie left Garden Lodge for Ibiza, accompanied by Jim, Peter, Joe, and Terry, his chauffeur. AIDS now having been officially diagnosed, he was desperate to get away. On the advice of Freddie’s GP, Dr. Gordon Atkinson, a small medical trunk was now a vital part of his luggage, which contained Freddie’s preparations for AIDS.
Their holiday was spent at Pike’s, a charming five-hundred-year-old farmhouse converted into an exquisite hotel. Freddie felt very much at home there. He played some tennis, lounged by the pool, and ventured out to the odd gay club or bar at night.
“He had developed a bad wound on the bottom of his right foot,” said Jim. “He found it increasingly difficult to walk, and it would dog him for the rest of his life.”
During their trip, Freddie was taken to the famous Ku Club outside San Antonio, where he had an engagement with his new bosom pal. In the five-year run-up to the Ibiza ’92 festival, an annual event was staged, to fanfare Spain’s hosting of the Games of the XXV Olympiad. 1987’s event featured Marillion, Duran Duran, Chris Rea, and Spandau Ballet, and was to be closed by Freddie and Montserrat performing “Barcelona.” The champagne flowed at the Ku Club, and well into the night back at Pike’s. Freddie partied into the early hours. He expected few tomorrows.