ran very high. I found it very hard because I got so
little of my own way. But David had a real vision
and he took over the song lyrically.”
When even a rough monitor mix of Under
Pressure strolled to No.1 in the UK, it seemed
typical of a band who now appeared to snatch
victory at every turn. But that impression was
about to be rudely shattered by the song’s parent
album. Hot Space was the stumble that broke the
band’s imperious run, the disjointed product of
a lineup fractured by excess and the divide-and-
rule tactics of Mercury’s personal manager, Paul
Prenter (“He led Freddie by the nose,” one band
associate told Blake). “We had got fairly decadent
by then,” admitted Taylor. “We started work at all
sorts of odd hours. The days drifted into the nights
in this endless cycle.”
You could hear the division on Hot Space.
Mining the same spare dance groove as Another
One Bites The Dust, this time around, the results
were anaemic and light on the anthemics required
to fill Queen’s stadiums. May and Deacon butted
heads over guitar tones on Back Chat. Mercury
shot down May’s requests for more volume
(“What the fucking hell do you want, a herd of
wildebeest charging from one side to the other?”).
Meanwhile, the married-with-children lineup hadgrown weary of the singer celebrating his
promiscuity in song.
“I can remember having a go at Freddie because
some of the stuff he was writing was very definitely
on the gay side,” said May. “I remember saying it
would be nice if this stuff could be universally
applicable, because we
have friends of every
persuasion.”R
eleased in May
1982 – and
preceded by
Body Language, a chilly
synth-funk single that
virtually erased May’s
role in the band –
Taylor even decried
the sleeve of Hot Space
(“Absolute shit”). That
consensus was echoed
across the planet. Crowds in Germany responded
to cuts like Staying Power with cat-calls (“If you
don’t want to listen to it,” snapped Mercury,
“fucking go home!”). The album limped to
a humbling No.22 in the US, and a fractious tour
of the States ended at the LA Forum – the last date
the original Queen lineup would ever play in
America. May told it straight: “We hated each
other for a while.”In 1983, a trial separation saw the
bandmembers dive into solo work, with May
drafting Eddie Van Halen for the admired but
under-selling Star Fleet Project, while Mercury held
an abortive session with Michael Jackson and
chipped away at 1985’s Mr Bad Guy. But the band
that May dubbed ‘the
mothership’ – for all its
attendant headaches –
still exerted a powerful
pull. By year’s end, the
lineup were ensconced
at LA’s Record Plant,
where Taylor –
wounded at being told
his offerings weren’t
up to snuff – served
up Radio Ga Ga:
a yearning, pulsing
electro-ballad created
on synths and drum
machines, complete with a lyric about “how
important radio used to be” and a handclap hook
that would rival We Will Rock You for its live
Pavlovian response.
“I think Roger was thinking about it as just
another track,” noted Mercury, who was invited by
the drummer to finish the song. “But I instantly felt
there was something in there, a really good, strong,
saleable commodity.”
Taylor’s intention to give fans “the works” gifted
the album its title and was a fair summary ofGETTY
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“Keeping the focus
was difficult at the
best of times with
this mixture
of personalities.”
Producer Mack