Queen * *
Queen II * * *
Sheer Heart Attack * * * *
A Night at the Opera * * * * *
A Day at the Races * * * *
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Barely a decade ago, it took courage to admit to liking Queen. Having blazed with ingenuity in the Seventies, the band slathered much of their subsequent output in instantly dated synthesizers; the death in 1991 of cherished frontman Freddie Mercury (the former art student who named the band and designed its regal crest) left them in the creative wilderness; and the more joyless rock critics had often been sceptical of them anyway, as if great popular music was ever about anything other than fantastic tunes and having a ball.
But then, along came Muse, Mika, the Darkness and countless other Queen-apeing modern acts, clubbers of all ages started pogoing about to Don’t Stop Me Now, and Queen were suddenly in vogue again. Remaining members guitarist Brian May and drummer Roger Taylor (bassist John Deacon having retired) even teamed up with former Free singer Paul Rodgers for a successful world tour, and only last month Queen’s Greatest Hits was confirmed as the bestselling British album of all time.
The re-release of Queen’s first five albums – commemorating the 40th anniversary of their formation – is a reminder of what a bolt from the blue they once were. Admittedly, their eponymously titled 1973 debut, an acidulous prog-rock-meets-Led Zeppelin confection, is probably most interesting for revealing the band in embryo. But only just around the corner was 1974’s winningly Tolkienesque Queen II, even if this, in turn, was also a taste of greater riches to come.
Sheer Heart Attack and its 1975 follow-up, A Night at the Opera, were commercial and (generally) critical triumphs in their day and remain two of the finest rock albums ever. The former, which sees the Queen “sound” now fully in place, launches with the still amazing fun-fair-meets-guitar-heroics of Brighton Rock and skips on, via the frilly-knickered stomp of Killer Queen, to an entire sweet shop of goodies.
With that ever-dignified behemoth Bohemian Rhapsody at its figurehead, A Night at the Opera’s even more extravagant blend of scything guitars, camperie and lush vocal layerings was unprecedented at the time (“A feast”, wrote the NME) and sounds as marvellous as ever.
And although the last indispensable Queen album – 1976’s A Day at the Races – doesn’t have the scope of its two predecessors, its careering from heads-down rock (Tie Your Mother Down) to dandified anachronism (Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy) is still giddy fun.
With so many of these tracks now enjoying something close to folk status, it’s all too easy to take Queen’s back-catalogue for granted. But how many other bands have even considered fusing piano balladry, music-hall flamboyance, operatic theatricality and piledriving rock, still less done so with the odd dash of Arabesque spice, a magnificent flair for writing organic tunes, and a virtuosity that meant nothing was beyond them?
Queen’s greatest music was extravagantly innovative, technically brilliant and created with a jeweller’s care. It’s simply enjoying it that, now as then, requires no effort at all.
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