Adam Lambert has a message for everyone saying that Queen died when Freddie Mercury did.
“I’m actually just like you because I’m also a big fan. I’m just up here in the gayest suit you’ve ever seen in the really expensive seat.”
Late last year when the American Idol runner-up and surviving Queen members Brian May and Roger Taylor announced The Rhapsody Tour, the hype was bigger than the announcement of their last full-fledged US tour, which occurred in 2017. At the time, their groundbreaking Oscar winning biopic Bohemian Rhapsody was out just short of over a month, and the band’s fanbase had already grown massively. So when those lights shut off at 8:12, many of the young people in the crowd weren’t only screaming for Lambie.
The projected curtain rose to reveal a glorifying, gold-plated stage design, with fans who payed $1000 to sit up high with the screens. Now I’m Here kicked off the royal evening. Teenagers and adults sporting their Queen shirts, and some still unsure of the legends onstage, other than the singer, shrieked as Adam, dressed in a gold-and-black suit, effortlessly staged the first song Queen ever played in Tampa. Next came a shortened version of the earlier hit, Seven Seas Of Rhye. When the late, great, Freddie Mercury (who, per Adam’s request, received 11 seconds of applause) was alive, they’d play a shortened version of it, which is why that wasn’t unusual.
Many of the 40+ year old tunes were shortened a verse or two. Keep Yourself Alive only went on for the first verse, the chorus, and then ripping right into the fist-pumpin’ Hammer To Fall. I wasn’t sure why exactly, but as much as they want to cram every song they’ve ever written into the show, I’m sure it had to do with timing.
Of course, Freddie’s showmanship is inimitable, and Adam mentioned early on how he’s not trying to be Freddie. Based on the props used and the action he was in, you could tell he was being truthful. Posing on top of Spike Edney’s piano during Killer Queen, and posing on a motorcycle at the foot of the stage during Bicycle Race wasn’t really Freddie’s thing. Adam did Adam, which made the show even more worthwhile.
A running joke in the Bohemian Rhapsody movie, and possibly in reality, was how nobody in Queen liked Roger Taylor’s I’m In Love With My Car. Well, apparently the joke was so well-received, they threw the song into the setlist, even having Rog sing it behind the drum kit.
After ideally harmonizing on I Want It All, everyone left the stage for a minute or two, except for Brian, who made his way to the foot of the stage. Or, in this case, since the stage was shaped like a guitar, the headstock. “To tell you the truth, I never thought I would be here doing this at this point in time. It’s a treat, it’s a privilege.” Brian remarked. Unfortunately, he didn’t say anything about this being the first Tampa show for Queen. Normally, there’s a history lesson of some sort during this part of the show. Normally, it’s about Dr. May’s fascination of astrology.
Speaking of astrology, after crooning and plucking out Love Of My Life, (with archive footage of Freddie singing the last verse) Brian dusted off “kind of a futuristic, funk song,” ’39, off of 1975’s A Night At The Opera. He requested we sing it with him, or if we didn’t know the words, clap. Sadly, most people just clapped. But don’t worry, all of us die-hards hollered out every word back at him, while NASA footage rolled behind him.
Roger and Adam then joined Brian at the headstock to run down the first two verses of Doing Alright, which was revived through the biopic last year.
A few hits and outlandish theatrics later, Brian had a ten minute long guitar solo, which started with him rising on a platform that, from the front, looked like he was playing on an asteroid. When he came down, it was five more minutes of just him, shredding the hell out of his iconic, hand-crafted as a kid, Red Special. From there, you know he actually lead in the first full verse of Tie Your Mother Down? Not sure why, but that was a shock.
Radio Gaga was also in segment mode, but that didn’t mean that our hands didn’t go up in the air during the chorus, like at Live Aid. That becoming one of the absolute highlights of my concert-going career, Bohemian Rhapsody in full wrapped up the main set. About half of the song (most of the opening, and “I see a little silhouetto of a man”) was the original recording blaring across the venue. Everything else was live, including Brian’s iconic solo at the halfway point, which he slightly resembled a cyborg for. He joked online about a month ago that soon enough, the “cyborg” could play the whole show for him while he relaxes backstage.
Once that extravagant segment of the show came to an end, everyone left the stage, which eventually triggered the packed-to-the-gills house to start stomp-stomp-clapping. Before responding with We Will Rock You and a grand finale of We Are The Champions, we were visited by a ghost. Freddie, that is. You can’t have a Queen show, with or without Freddie, without the audience being part of the fun. Or should I say, vocal improv. The tape from when he played around with his legendary Ay-oh’s at Queen’s 1986 show at Wembley Stadium was rolled. Since the video was rolled on the digital curtain that had lowered, it looked like Freddie was actually onstage.
The Great Pretender ended his improvisation with a good ol’ “fuck you.” I mean, how else would you want it to end? Even in death, Freddie still has the vocal range to rule them all.
Josh Bradley Live 