Okay, I know that’s a stretch. Sure, you can drool over a concert program all you like, flip its pages till they fall out, and take it to bed and read it under the covers with a flashlight. But it will never sing to you. It won’t make your ears ring for hours on end. And it will never blind you with pyrotechnics.
Nevertheless, I experienced a true rock-shock when my friend Tony Vigliotti walked into sixth period French class and presented me with a souvenir concert program from the Queen show he’d seen the night before at Pittsburgh’s Stanley Theater. This was the concert I’d been dying to see. Or rather, this was The Freddie I’d been dying to see. Frontman Freddie Mercury had become my style icon — my Killer Queen, so to speak, with his shaggy long-cut black pageboy and his fairy-inspired frocks. I didn’t want to sleep with him, mind you. I wanted to BE him. Or at least go shopping with him.
Queen was in town to promote their fourth studio LP, “A Night at the Opera,” which featured their opera-palooza “Bohemian Rhapsody.” I wouldn’t have even considered asking my strict parents if I could attend the show, had it not been for the fact that Tony V. was going.
I was 16, lived 35 miles east of Pittsburgh, couldn’t drive, and had never been to a rock concert. Surely my parents would trust Tony to take me! He was a year older and was held in high regard by my mom, who had known his family her entire life. Tony’s grandmother was my mom’s beloved comare – her godmother – a relationship of special importance in Italian families. Tony may have been the leader of Blairsville’s one and only rock band, Rampage, but he was no wild one. He was a good boy. A sensible, respectable boy.
But while my mom had no doubts about Tony’s superior character, she just wasn’t convinced that this Queen concert was a good idea. It was in the city, in a big stadium that was no doubt full of people on drugs. There would be big parking lots and possibly some nighttime outdoor walking involved. And, because it was February, there might be weather.
I accepted her decision, as I always did, without argument. But as much as I desired to see Queen in that career-defining zeitgeist, as much as I longed to see Freddie command the stage in the sartorial style I tried so hard to emulate, I quickly got over it. In fact, within a few months, I had gotten over the bulk of my Freddie obsession. (Teens, take my word: whatever IT is, you will get over it.)
Besides, why should I have sulked over missing that gig? I already had my tickets to see Bruce Springsteen play the nearby Cambria County War Memorial in two months. And there would be no worries about transportation: Mommy and Daddy would drop me and Barb L. off at the arena entrance and pick us up in the same spot afterwards. Despite the skepticism of my rock mentor (“I can’t believe you’re making your concert debut with Springsteen,” said Tony. “He’s all hype”) I would forever regard that April 12, 1976, show as the best concert of my life. (Okay, so Tony missed the mark…just that one time. I once predicted Madonna would fade away. Even rock aficionados are wrong sometimes).
But talk about a friend! Here was my Beatle-lovin’ brother…the guy I most enjoyed talking to in high school…the person who planted the seeds of my never-ending rock-n-roll education…the mate who understood, like no one else, how much I longed to see that Queen concert…the friend who thought enough to bring me a souvenir that I’ll prize forever.
I finally got to see Queen a few years later at the Pittsburgh Civic Arena. And you know what? Receiving that program from 1976 is a much sweeter memory.
Thank you, “Tony Velot.”
Here’s Tony, at left, playing bass with his band Rampage in the summer of 1975 at the Eagles Club in Blairsville, PA. Jeff “Turtle” Baker is on lead guitar and Gary McCrady is on drums. Today, Tony Vigliotti is best known as Tony Michaels, General Manager of WHJB 107.1 FM in Greensburg, PA. He hosts Jukebox Saturday, a long-running classic hits request show that airs on Saturdays from 10 am to 2 pm on three stations: WHJB, WDAD 1450 AM in Indiana, PA , and KOOL 103.3 FM in Punxsutawney.
“Sweet Lady” is my favorite song from “A Night at the Opera.” That album had the distinction of being the most expensive ever produced at the time of its release in 1975. I like this video because it shows a collage of clips featuring the Freddie I loved best, in the style that once made me swoon. But even after he cut his hair, grew the moustache, and swapped the white billowy caftans for hot pants, there would always be a special place in my heart for that “Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy” of 1976. RIP, Freddie.
Dana Spiardi, Feb 20, 2015
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I flipped for Freddie just after the album “Sheer Heart Attack“ was released (it featured the ultra-cool track “Killer Queen,” which was supposedly inspired by Jackie O). Freddie was the most fashionable creature I had ever laid eyes on. I adored his exotic looks – the kohl-rimmed eyes, the long, shimmering hair. It never even occurred (or mattered) to me that he might be gay or bisexual! After all, the rock ‘zines like Creem and Circus frequently mentioned his live-in girlfriend Mary Austin. I was dying to know all about her. What did she look like? Did they exchange clothes? And it’s funny, but in the early days the rock press never alluded to the fact that Freddie Mercury was actually Farrokh Bulsara – a Parsi born in Zanzibar! Imagine my delight when I learned that fact. A dusky, dashing man from a country named Zanzibar.
Because of Freddie, I took to wearing black nail polish – on one hand only – as did he. I layered on the best waterproof eyeliner I could find in the local Rexall. I bought a black shiny trench coat and fancied myself the Black Queen of the band’s second LP. And I sought out the most outrageous Freddie-inspired clothes I could find, most of which I found in two small boutiques — Paraphernalia and The Piscean – both located at suburban malls. That’s me in the photo, trying to look like dynamite-with-a laser-beam.
Alas, my royal crush had run its course just about the time the band released the “News of the World” LP – which contained those two tiresome stadium anthems, “We Are The Champions“ and “We Will Rock You.” By this time, Freddie had sheared off his beautiful locks and was sporting a close-cropped haircut and a mustache. He cast aside his Carnaby Street frocks and elegant, billowy kaftans and bared his furry chest. But I never stopped adoring that good old-fashioned lover boy. I jumped at the chance to see Queen when they played the Civic Arena in Pittsburgh in 1980. Musically, it was a great show. I still have an indelible image of Freddie strutting around – bare-chested – in tiny red shorts! But Queen was never just a glam-band. Guitarist Brian May kept the electricity surging at peak level. Frank Zappa once said, “Actually I get more surprises listening to a Queen album than I get out of Jimi Hendrix’s albums….Some of the things that they’re doing mix-wise on these albums are very difficult.” Now that’s quite an endorsement, coming from a hard-to-please cynic like Zappa.
Queen’s popularity seemed to decline in the US by the mid-1980s, as Freddie became increasingly flamboyant. Americans, with their puritanical roots, probably had trouble embracing a performer who was – by that time – so openly gay. But Queen’s appeal never waned in Europe. The band’s only major faux pas was their decision to perform in apartheid South Africa in 1984, thus breaking the United Nations cultural boycott (they were subsequently fined by the British Musicians Union). Brian May justified the move, claiming the band was non-political. “We play to anybody who wants to come and listen,” he said. It was a bad move, nonetheless. But, as I’ve said before, I’m pretty forgiving when it comes to rock-n-roll.
When Freddie passed away from bronchial pneumonia resulting from AIDS in 1991, I felt like I had lost an old friend. I’ve digitized my old vinyl Queen albums and enjoy listening to those fabulous, underrated songs from the early 1970s: “Death on Two Legs,” “Sweet Lady,” “The Seven Seas of Rye,” “Now I’m Here,” “Brighton Rock,” and “Tie Your Mother Down.” AND, like those morons in the movie Wayne’s World, I never fail to crank up the dial, bop like mad, and sing my lungs out every time I hear “Bohemian Rhapsody“ on the car radio.
Queen has enjoyed a resurgence in popularity in recent years, due to a certain Lady who claims she adored the band’s singer and took her stage name from the group’s song Radio Ga Ga. Thanks, Freddie, for inspiring a whole new generation of brave, over-the-top performers. But I think that even the outrageous Mr. Mercury would have considered a raw-meat dress a bit gauche.
Happy Birthday, Freddie! September 5, 1946 – November 24, 1991
Here’s the clip that started it all for me!
And here’s Brian, explaining the famous”waltz-riff” he developed for “Sweet Lady.” Check out Freddie’s performance! This is my favorite hard-rocking Queen song.
© Dana Spiardi, September 5, 2011
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