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The beginning of making an album is always a bit fraught with tension. Is anyone prepared or are we just going to wing it? The members of Queen are well used to this process as they gather in Montreux to begin their follow up to Innuendo. There is an edge of nervousness in his voice when Brian asks:
“Right. Anyone got any songs? John?”
“Er, a few ideas, but I need a bit of help with words. Fred?”
Freddie smiles at John and replies, “But of course, darling. What about you, Brian?”
‘”I’ve got three that are pretty much done and one or two fragments. You?”
‘Well, in fact I do. Two are completely worked out, with parts for everyone pretty much set. Don’t roll your eyes at me, Brian, I can always cut the guitar solos. John, there’s a really delicious little bass groove on one of them. And then there’s just 4 or 5 that are in various stages of readiness. I thought we might like to have a go at writing one of those together, like One Vision.”
John chuckles, “So just the, what, 7 or so then?”
Freddie bows. “A dozen a day, darling, a dozen a day.”
Brian slaps his thighs and stands, “Well, we might as well start with one of your completed numbers then Fred …”
“Ah, excuse me?” Roger has been silent until now. “What about me? I might have an idea or two.”
“Really?” Freddie raises his eyebrows. “You haven’t played me anything.”
“Well, no. I do still have some secrets, Fred.’”Roger grins back at Freddie.
“Okay, then.” Brian interrupts before Freddie can start interrogating Roger about what other secrets he might have. “Which one is it? ‘Let me out of here; I’m a wild man and you can’t hold me down?’ or ‘You fuckers have broken the world and I hate you’?”
“Oh, ha ha, Mr ‘Oh look, I’ve tripped and somehow landed on a woman who isn’t my wife’.” Brian looks mortified at the accusation. “Nothing like that. It’s a ballad. A b-a-l-l-a-d.” He draws the word out. “I do have range, you know.”
“Now, now, you two. Stop it. I, for one, am very intrigued to hear this ballad.” Freddie looks pointedly in Roger’s direction.
“Too right.” John adds. “Play away, Mr Taylor.”
“Thank you, Mr Deacon. I shall. Dave, do you want to put this on tape?” Roger gestures through the glass at their producer, who gives him the thumbs up. Roger nods and heads towards the piano.
Brian is startled by this. “The piano? You never play the piano.”
“You know full well, Brian, that I can play the piano just as well as you. It’s just not my usual instrument for composing, but this song needed the piano. It is delicate. May I please begin, if it so please your Majesty?”
Freddie and John both roll their eyes. How many years has it been like this? 25? Brian give a sarcastic bow and gestures for Roger to begin.
The music that comes from the piano is, as Roger has said, delicate. He plays with a light touch and the sparse chords and arpeggios shimmer across the room. His voice, usually so suited to bursts of bravura falsetto or down and dirty rock and roll, takes on a different quality, that of heartfelt and deeply honest emotion. And he sings these words:
Verse 1
I didn’t know what was happening
I just didn’t understand
Warning shouts and running
Meant little to this man
Running down alleys
The sound of pounding feet
Cowering in doorways
And voices loudly seek
Chorus 1
‘Have you seen any …?’
‘Is anyone here … ?’
Are you still here?
Are you still near?
Thank God you’re here.
Verse 2
Laughing and joking
On an all-time adrenalin high
Playing cops and spying
Finger guns on fire
Lurking in hallways
Hiding again
Pressed ‘gainst each other
And then … but then
Chorus 2
Have you kissed any … ?
Your lips, so dear
Are you still here?
Are you still near, love?
Thank God you’re here.
Coda
Thank God you’re here
Thank God you’re here
Always want you near
Thank God you’re here.
The room is silent when he finishes, the only sound the fading echoes of the last chord. Brian’s jaw has dropped. John has a Cheshire-cat smile. Dave, in the booth, has tears in his eyes and Freddie is biting his lip whilst his emotions kaleidoscope across his face.
John is the first to speak.
“Fucking hell, Rog. That was amazing.”
Brian adds, “Roger, that was beautiful. I mean … wow. Just beautiful.”
Roger nods in response and looks at his lover. “What do you think, Freddie?”
Freddie speaks in a soft, almost strangled voice. “What’s it called, dear?”
Roger smiles. “Glasgow.”
And Freddie begins to cry.