Read Is This The Real Life? Online
Authors: Mark Blake
âThere's nothing wrong with going to bed with somebody of your own sex. I think everybody's bisexual to a certain degree.'
In October 1976 Elton John discussed his sexuality in a candid interview with
Rolling Stone
magazine. It was a bold move by a
mainstream pop star for the time. A year later, Elton announced his decision to retire from playing live and had broken up his songwriting partnership with lyricist Bernie Taupin, dropping out of the public eye to plan his next move.
Behind the scenes and unknown to the public at the time, Elton was also dealing with the end of his tempestuous personal relationship with John Reid, also his manager. Professionally, there was also another issue to contend with. As Reid's former PR Caroline Boucher explains, âFreddie and Elton got on very well, but you couldn't manage Freddie
and
Elton.'
âIt was obviously going to end in tears,' adds Bob Mercer. âIf John Reid was in my office with Freddie, then inevitably there would be a phone call from Elton: “What's he doing with
her
?” As another insider recalls, âIf Elton had a tour, then that took priority, and with the different personalities in Queen, you can imagine how that went down.'
With lawyer Jim Beach negotiating, Queen's separation from John Reid Enterprises was underway before their second US tour in 1977. Reid would receive a substantial pay-off for the early termination of the management contract, plus 15 per cent of the royalties generated by the Queen albums already released. Queen were also still paying a percentage of royalties to Trident; an arrangement that would only expire with the release of their next album.
Queen's relationship with John Reid had been fruitful for both parties, but they were wary of signing with another manager. Reid delivered the paperwork to the back garden of Roger Taylor's country house in order to get the necessary signatures. At the time, Queen were filming a promo for âWe Will Rock You' and their next single, âSpread Your Wings', attempting to mime in the bitter cold and under a dusting of snow, and after Freddie had consumed the best part of a bottle of brandy. The band themselves squeezed into the back of Mercury's Rolls-Royce and signed the documents.
Initially, they decided to manage themselves, with Pete Brown and Paul Prenter assisting. Before long, their circumstances would change again. Queen's lawyer Jim Beach gave up his position with Harbottle & Lewis and was soon installed as the band's business
manager. âJim took me out to lunch and told me he was thinking of becoming Queen's business manager,' remembers Bob Mercer. âI was very encouraging. I'd been on the suffering end of the whole Freddie Mercury-John Reid-Elton John thing, and I could please absolutely no one.' Two years later, Brian May would admit, âI think we were in real danger of splitting up when the John Reid situation got really sticky.'
Jim Beach established three new companies: Queen Productions Ltd, Queen Music Ltd and Queen Films Ltd; the last of which was created in response to the growing trend for pop promos. Queen would now finance their own films and maintain control over licensing and video rights. Unsurprisingly, it was John Deacon that guided his bandmates through such matters. âJohn keeps a very close eye on our affairs,' Mercury told
Circus
magazine. âHe knows everything that's going on and shouldn't be going on. The rest of the group won't do anything unless John says it's all right. We've all become businessmen. Even though it's against our better judgement.'
When asked whether Freddie had ever taken care of the finances when running their stall at Kensington Market, Roger Taylor once replied, âBloody hell, no! That would have been an absolute disaster.' In 1978 Taylor claimed that the Queen singer âhas absolutely no idea about money, the value of it or anything.' That said, one of Jim Beach's first assignments was to renegotiate the terms of Queen's deal with EMI. One company insider has described the resulting deal as âin the millions. A vast amount for the day.'
By 1978, though, Prime Minister James Callaghan's government had imposed a top tax rate of 83 per cent on earned income and 98 per cent on unearned income in the UK. As Roger Taylor grumbled, âWe had to think about leaving the country.' Queen would follow the lead set by other musicians in recent years, including The Rolling Stones, David Bowie and Bad Company, and become tax exiles, spending less than 183 days a year in the UK, and touring and recording overseas to avoid paying tax on their earnings.
Although Freddie Mercury had applauded it âas John Deacon's best song to date', âSpread Your Wings' barely made it into the Top
30 in February. Deacon would have some better news that month with the birth of his second son, Michael. But come April and the start of the new tax year, Queen were in Stockholm for the first night of a three-week tour. In Rotterdam, their gargantuan lighting rig malfunctioned. âThere was the explosion and loads of smoke,' recalled Brian May, âand one side of the crown majestically rose while the other majestically fell. I think it helped break the ice.' Three days later, matters improved when Queen played France for the first time. âWe Are the Champions' and âWe Will Rock You' had been in the charts for weeks, but the country had been resistant to the band until then. Following a triumphal performance at Pavillion De Paris, Mercury was overheard to remark, âWell, that's Paris ticked off.'
The UK would be served by two Queen shows at Stafford Bingley Hall and three at Wembley Empire Pool in May. It was now costing around £4,000 a day to keep Queen on the road. The
Daily Mail
revealed that they were only turning a profit in the United States, where the venues could hold as many as 20,000. Mercury gave an unusually candid interview to the
Mail
's Tim Lott. While not discussing his sexuality with the same frankness as Elton John in
Rolling Stone
, he claimed, âMy sex drive is enormous. I live life to the full', and admitted that he and Mary Austin had broken up (âAfter seven and a half years we have come to an understanding. Mary should have a life of her own'). Though always good for a flippant bon mot (âI enjoy being a bitch'), Mercury confessed to âall kinds of paranoia', explaining that he couldn't bear to go anywhere on his own, and that he had to have someone with him at all times.
Freddie's circle of gay friends provided him with the constant company he needed. Some would have the singer's best interests at heart; others would abuse his trust and, in one case, ultimately betray him. Interviewed by Kenny Everett to promote
A Day at the
Races
, Mercury had broadcast a coded dedication to âSharon, Beryl, Phyllis, Serita ⦠all the lovely people.' Freddie's âlovely people', gay and straight, had all acquired female names: âSharon' was Elton John, âBeryl' was John Reid, âPhyllis' was Rod Stewart. Mercury himself was known as âMelina' (after the Greek actress and political activist Melina Mercouri), Roger Taylor was âLiz' and Brian May
was âMaggie'. Intriguingly, John Deacon was never given a name, while, in a comic reversal of gender, Mary Austin was called âSteve' after Steve Austin, the hero of
The Six Million Dollar Man
TV series. âOh God, Queen and the girls' names,' sighs Brian Southall. âYou'd be having this conversation and you'd have no idea who this Brenda or Beryl was or what they were talking about.'
âSerita' had been a part of Mercury's life for some time. It was the nickname given to Peter Straker, a Jamaica-born singer and actor who had appeared in the original stage production of the musical
Hair!
In 1977 Mercury formed his own production company, Goose Productions, and stuck £20,000 of his own cash into Straker's debut album, co-producing the record with Roy Thomas Baker. Peter's music had one foot in the dwindling glam-rock scene, the other in campy West End show tunes. The album,
This One's On Me
, was released in 1978, but barely sold.
For Southall, Peter Straker was another example of EMI cosseting one of their star acts. âIn those days, you did things because your artists said so,' he explains. âEMI signed Kate Bush because Dave Gilmour said so, which was wonderful. But then Goose Productions brought us Peter Straker. God bless him, Peter had a sense of humour. I remember we sent him on a huge tour, got to Birmingham Odeon and we'd sold thirty tickets. We were like, “Come on Peter ⦔ But he said, “No, no, my loves, I must go on â¦' He had the feather boa and the heels, and he used to do a version of “That Old Black Magic” with a box of Black Magic chocolates. That night he went out with a bag of Revels â¦'
Straker's musical career continued in fits and starts, but he would spend the next few years in Mercury's inner circle, alongside mainstays Joe Fanelli (aka âLiza') and personal manager Paul Prenter (âTrixie'). Mercury was twenty-nine years old when he'd begun his relationship with David Minns. As one of his former entourage explains, he was âvery keen to make up for lost time'. Freddie may have craved companionship and romantic love, but his fame and money brought him endless attention and offers of sex.
Writing in 1992, Freddie's close friend David Evans described Mercury's time in his thirties as âhectic, late-night and greedy'. By
1978, Freddie was in the position of having anything and everything he wanted. One night, at a friend's birthday party in a London restaurant, the singer broke off from his conversation and uttered one word, âCiggy'. In seconds, packets of cigarettes were thrust in his direction. Later, Mercury stopped again, and said, âPee-pee.' Within seconds, he was being shepherded towards the lavatory.
It was all rather different in Brian May's world. In June that year, May and his wife celebrated the birth of their first child, James. While Mercury bragged to the
Daily Mail
of spending â£100,000 over the last three years', May lived a more frugal lifestyle. âI called round Brian's house in Barnes,' says his old bandmate John âJag' Garnham. âI hadn't been there before and didn't know he was away on tour. It was just an OK, detached house, and I remember thinking, “Where is all the money?” There were no extravagant objects in the house at all. Brian's dad Harold turned up, and I said, “Are you still living in Feltham?” He said, “Oh yes, Jag, we are. We don't let Brian pay for anything, only the airfare sometimes so we can go and see him in concert.”'
Inevitably, as Queen's fame escalated it became harder to maintain relationships with schoolfriends and former bandmates. As Chris Smith says, âI never knew Freddie Mercury. My mate was Fred Bulsara.' After a show at the Liverpool Empire, Ken Testi persuaded Queen to visit his new club, Eric's. Deacon, Taylor and Mercury arrived to reminisce with the old friend that had nearly become their manager. But Testi was amused to notice that they came, and went, in three separate limousines. In July 1978, Roger Taylor celebrated his twenty-ninth birthday with a party in Montreux. High on life and anything else on offer, Freddie Mercury supposedly swung from a cut-glass chandelier, telling stunned onlookers, âI just couldn't resist it.'
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