Hince, Peter - Queen Unseen by Hince Peter

Author:Hince, Peter [Hince, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781843588634
Publisher: John Blake Publishing
Published: 2011-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

MELBOURNE: SPORT AND ENTERTAINMENT CENTRE – 17 APRIL 1985

During a four-night residency with The Works show down under, all hell broke loose – lights failed, speakers blew, monitors cut out and the biggest and most obvious malfunction to an audience – Fred’s microphone – started to break up, distort and cut out while he sang at the piano. Oh dear! This had never happened before. Immediately, I improvised and took his wand mike from under the piano, switched it on and held it up for him to sing into. As I balanced the mike precariously, Tony ‘Lips’ Rossi, who was in charge of onstage microphones, attempted to change the piano mike. This proved unsuccessful and, when Fred took to the stage for another song, the whole system had to be changed again. (The problem proved to be a faulty cable, extremely unusual on a static microphone.) When Fred reached the dressing room after the show, he was furious about the microphone incident, screaming, ‘And then all these roadies congregated around, pushing dozens of mikes in my face! I wouldn’t have minded if they had been cocks – but this was ridiculous!’

Mr Mercury liked to be dramatic. Melodramatic at times.

He was still fuming long after the show, so we all took off for the Chevron Club to drown our sorrows, fuelled by some poor-quality and extremely overpriced Australian cocaine.

We were to be comforted by the direct charms of the local ‘Ozzie’ girls and went back to our hotel to carry on numbing the pain. When my companion and I finally crawled back to my room from the rooftop swimming pool at about 5.00 am, she introduced me to a few indigenous phrases pertaining to the sexual union between man and woman: ‘Do you want to slime?’, ‘Have you arrived yet?’ and ‘That’s some “fat on” you got there!’ (This does not mean overweight.) Then, when in the midst of our passion she called out, ‘Oh, Ratty, me fanny’s on fire, me fanny’s on fire!’ I was so taken aback I fell out of bed laughing and did my back in. I spent the next day being put right by the tour physiotherapist.

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