Queen's Mercury Rising

Reclining on a garish yellow Naugahyde sofa, making faces at the quality of the tea, Mercury agrees that he's become less tense in the last year. "I used to have a very strong defense which I'd put up whenever strangers were around. It was inevitable, I suppose, because of the managerial troubles we had. I built up this barrier; this feeling that anybody wanting any sort of involvement with us was bound to rip us off in some way. It gave me a very cold exterior."

He has lived with his girlfriend, Mary Austin, for the past six years. He doesn't smoke or take drugs and drinks only in moderation. He enjoys the ballet and painting. He gets bored very easily. "I always have to be doing something. On tour everything can be sublimated to the performance where I can let loose, but at home I need to be constantly doing things to get my creative juices flowing." When the time really starts to drag he amuses himself by nothing more exotic than rearranging furniture — he says he is very house-proud — and, of course, shopping.

Mercury studied classical composition for four years as a child and has always composed on the piano. Recently his playing has become the focal point of Queen's act. Clearly he's no longer content to be recognized simply as frontman for a rock band; many of his more recent compositions seem as far removed from the hard-rock genre as Brian May's are a part of it. Consequently, recognition of his songwriting abilities has become more important to him. "I've got a lot of ego; awards are very important to me. Getting something like a Grammy nomination means a lot. Everybody would like an Oscar, wouldn't they, and I'd be foolish to say I wouldn't."

He recognizes that such rewards do not come without effort. His career to date has been governed by a strong work ethic, an almost puritanical attitude which has him talking animatedly about the necessity for dedication and self-discipline and the idea of being a slave to one's art. Discussing the idea of a star as the embodiment of an audience's fantasies, Mercury seems momentarily taken aback when I ask what his fantasies are. "Fantasies? I don't really have any. Oh dear, how boring....Perhaps I'd like to be Rudolf Nureyev..." Why? "The things that I admire are the things that require total dedication — 12 hours of work a day, sleepless nights."

For most of the conversation Mercury has remained on the sofa, occasionally springing to his feet to glance from the window at the traffic moving ten stories below. "I think I've got everything under control, but can you ever really say that ? Anything can happen. I've got a very reassuring feeling because of the people around me. I don't feel I have to tear my hair out and scream anymore. It's taken a long time, but I think we've finally hit the right note, and from this point we can only go up."

There is a knock at the door and an aide enters to remind Mercury that he has a shopping expedition planned. Mercury springs off the couch. "You know, it's like Roger Taylor says," he smiles. "We're spoilt brats. Everything we do comes up trumps. Our goal is to get to the top, obviously. We're not there yet; nowhere near it. And I don't want anybody to tell me I'm there either."

Then off he goes, crazy shopping...

[From Issue 238 — May 5, 1977]