Composed from adapted excerpts from my EBook 'Bohemia Place - My Life, Our Times and Queen', and my 'Story Behind the Song' Features.
The first track on
the album, the title track, born out of an improvisation session in the
Barrière Casino in Montreux, finished up lasting six and a half
minutes. This song also seems like a missive for posterity: to keep on
trying…that promise is made, and various perspectives are presented: the forces
of nature, the shackles of society, the mantra that progression involves
walking a tightrope; advice to the individual about yielding to freedom,
followed by a riveting instrumental part that implies that humanity makes
collective headway when this happens; and then a series of probes ending in a
challenge. Towards the end, the song mirrors ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ in its
acceptance of providence. This is how life will continue until eternity – as
our future becomes history. The deliberative nature of the song - the
primeval mood of foreboding in the intro, with its huge nod to Led
Zeppelin, the marked changes in tempo, and the tenebrous lyrics, all bring
a sense of apprehension about the future. Even the lighter, slower or more
peaceful parts – as with Steve Howe's Spanish guitar solo – are just an interlude. ‘Innuendo’
is an epilogue, an adieu, and a crowning achievement all in one.
It's followed, in contrast, by the humorous ‘I’m Going Slightly
Mad’: the lyrics were apparently created by Freddie with some uncredited
support from his friend, actor Peter Straker – and according to Jim Hutton in
‘Mercury and Me’, were the result of some late-night work that gave rise to a
lot of laughter. Next up is Brian's the light-hearted rocker
‘Headlong’, which sprints along with its rather fluky lyrics. In ‘I Can’t
Live with You’: the darting rhythm depicts the insurmountable dilemma expressed
by Brian: not being able to live with – but not being able to live without -
someone.
The serene 'Don't Try So Hard' is an interesting song coming from Freddie,
who was always such a hard worker. It expresses a kind of acceptance that not
everything comes at once and that you shouldn't struggle unnecessarily. Roger's
exhilirating 'Ride the Wild Wind', with its advice to 'push the envelope', seems to be the opposite - it has overtones of
'Breakthru' from the previous album, with its vivacious railtrack rhythm. There
are also throwbacks to the escapism of 'Tenement Funster', but even more to the
momentum of 'I'm in Love With My Car'. However, this time, it's Freddie's voice
that evidences a rich quality on the track, although it's superbly accompanied
by Roger's spoken backing vocals.
‘All God’s People’ was co-written by Freddie and Mike Moran, who also
worked with him on the ‘Barcelona’ project. It’s clear that this song has
religious connotations – with words concerning the ‘lessons of the Lord’, and
having, of course, a gospel style that can be traced through from the seventies
‘Somebody to Love’ to the eighties ‘Let Me Live’, which finally appeared on the
‘Made in Heaven’ album. There’s a section in the middle that sounds like a
testimonial in a Pentecostal church, with the guitar mimicking the congregation
around, who are murmuring, and then, along with the narrator,
swooning. But I feel it might also belong to that small number
of Queen songs with a social message. The way it addresses people
and governments, asking them to welcome others inside their homes, makes it
sound like an exhortation about migration. Could this be Freddie displaying his
gratitude over being taken in to the UK all those years before?
'These are the Days of Our Lives' was written by Roger from the perspective
of a middle-aged man looking back at the carefree days of childhood in the
light of the fact that he now had his own children to be the source of his
life’s enjoyment. He wonders if life has been a show, touching on the
Shakespearean idea that everyone is essentially an actor on the
world’s stage. Notably, the video for the song, filmed on 30th May
1991, provided Freddie with his last ever stage. Freddie,
Roger and John were filmed together, all of them quite static – but
Freddie’s unforgettable finale is so memorable that his stunning
performance throughout the video, expressing himself through face and
hands to the last, may receive less attention. Behind him on one side is the
longing that lurks in John’s bass line, and on the other the tenderness
encapsulated in Roger’s conga-tapping. As Brian was absent in the US at the
time of the shoot, footage of him playing, infusing his
prodigiously plaintive guitar solo, was added later. Despite the black
and white presentation, the splendour of the cat waistcoat that Freddie's
costume designer Diana Mosely had made for him was apparent...the next
track, 'Delilah', is Freddie's dedication to one of his cats, reflecting his
sentiments as a lifelong cat lover.
With 'Innuendo', it was necessary for the band to pull together. The result
is multifarious: take the contrast between Brian's torridly ultra-aggressive
'Hitman' and the passionately all-consuming 'Bijou' - a joint contribution from
him and Freddie - as an example. In the latter, it seems, tears were shed
that were flowing through the strings of Brian's guitar.
'Innuendo' concludes with 'The Show Must Go On'. When he was a guest on BBC
Radio's 'Desert Island Discs' in 2002, one of the pieces Brian chose was
Gustav Holst's 'Saturn, The Bringer of Old Age' from 'The
Planets'. Certainly, ‘The Show Must Go On’ may have been influenced by
this classical movement's quality of being pondered yet not
ponderous. The lyrical content has some similarity to another of
Brian’s 2002 ‘Desert Island Disc’ choices: Smokey Robinson’s ‘The Tracks
of My Tears’ from 1965, the lyrics of which contain the words: 'Outside
I'm masquerading / Inside my hope is fading / Just a clown…my smile is my
make-up...’ The stalwart stance of the narrative is matched by the
amazing expression in Freddie’s voice. Apparently, Brian wanted to change the
title, but Freddie, of course, knew what would resonate at the very end of this
album.
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