Concert Review: One Night of Queen, 3.22.09

Concerned that my visiting Australian friend Cameron would be bored within a few hours of him visiting Pennsylvania, and worried that I would run out of ideas for his week-long trip in Doylestown, I was relieved when my mom offhandedly mentioned that Beatles tribute band the Fab Faux were playing at the Keswick on Saturday night. When Cameron told me that he thought they were the “bist Beatles tribute band”, I promptly went on the Keswick’s site to grab some tickets … only to discover, to my surprise, that they were completely sold out. Mom, however, was to the rescue once again: Queen tribute band One Night of Queen were going to be at the Keswick the following evening, and there were plenty of tickets for sale. Huzzah – now I had something to do on Sunday night!

To say that I was excited to see a tribute band would be an overstatement. Over a few beers a few nights ago, Cameron and I discussed the merits of tribute bands – and my stance on it is that I don’t like them. Sure, they’re undoubtedly talented musicians, and very good impressionists, but to center your career around imitating a classic rock band is just … weird. I can sort of understand being a covers band, but focusing on one band and not only their big hits but also their nuances – clothing, mannerisms, etc. – doesn’t sit right with me. I was ready to write off ONoQ without even hearing a note. It doesn’t help that I don’t like the Keswick as a venue. It’s in a great location, but the seats are uncomfortable and too close together. I’d seen Dr. John and Pink Martini there within the past 10 years, and both times I wasn’t thrilled to be sitting down. I was hoping that, because these were Queen songs, the audience would be up on their feet, singing and dancing and having a great time, so that I didn’t have to sit in those stupid seats.

We arrived about a half hour before the 7 30 start time, and I kicked myself for not bringing a pen or a camera. I wanted to write down the songs they played, because my memory is notoriously bad when it comes to songs played at a concert, but my lack of a pen meant I would have to rely on recollections. I considered forgetting about it completely and just enjoying myself, but then what would the point be in having this blog if I didn’t review a concert?! We found our seats, and bullshitted with the usher for a bit. I asked if there would be any crowd surfing or moshing, and he deadpanned, “I hope not. But you never know what Queen fans will do.” As we waited for the show to start, the PA system blasted out studio versions of Queen songs – ‘The Show Must Go On’, ‘Innuendo’, ‘These Are The Days Of Our Lives’, ‘Bicycle Race’, ‘Let Me Entertain You’, ‘Dreamers Ball’, and ‘Heaven For Everyone’ – while Cameron and I discussed what we hoped they would play. Midway through the last pre-recorded song, the lights dimmed, and a deliberate, bored sounding MC introduced the show and told us how great the Keswick is, while announcing that everyone should check under their seats: one lucky person in the audience would have an envelope taped to their seat, containing Andrew Dice Clay tickets!!! I loudly proclaimed that if they were taped to my seat, I would rip them up.

The lights turned off completely, the fog machine went into overdrive, and the PA started to play the intro to ‘One Vision’. Just as the intro reached its peak, the band bounced onto stage and kicked into the song proper. I was amazed at lead vocalist Gary Mullen: not only did he kind of look like Freddie Mercury, circa 1986 (the set list reflected this), but he sounded amazingly like Mercury, to the point that when I closed my eyes, it was almost as if I was witnessing the actual band themselves. The thing about ONoQ was that they listened intently to the Live At Wembley ’86 album: the musical cues were derived from the album, and of the 22 songs played, 14 were featured on that album. I was ready to predict the set list, and loudly told Cameron that ‘Tie Your Mother Down’ was next, but was pleasantly surprised when ‘Seven Seas Of Rhye’ followed … except that it was the abridged ’86 version, and not the full version. The song ended with the snippet from ‘Liar’, and the drama increased with a tremendous version of ‘A Kind Of Magic’. Mullen addressed the audience at its conclusion, apologizing for his voice – allegedly suffering a cold and on their fifth successive night of performing, he jokingly apologized for showering the front row with sweat and snot – and launched right into a powerful version of ‘Somebody To Love’, a great surprise and a testament to how versatile a vocalist Mercury is, and serves as a litmus test for potential imitators. Mullen passed with flying colors, not only matching Mercury at his peak circa 1982, but even surpassing him in spots, slipping into a languid falsetto that Mercury could only have dreamt of perfecting. Cameron turned to me and was visibly impressed.

‘Under Pressure’ and ‘Another One Bites The Dust’ followed with quick succession (the latter interpolating both Chic’s ‘Good Times’ and the Sugarhill Gang’s ‘Rapper’s Delight’), with Mullen chastising the audience for not getting up and dancing. Glenside was, indeed, subdued, apart from one lady who seemed to be experiencing a wonderful acid trip and was reliving Haight-Ashbury and the Summer of Love all over again; unfortunately for her, this wasn’t a Grateful Dead love-fest, and she was alternately mocked by younger members of the audience behind her and politely asked to sit down by curmudgeonly elders. This is the second time at a concert within the past six months that I’ve felt embarrassed by the audience, and despite Mullen’s best efforts – saying several times that ONoQ would get us up off our asses – the audience never really stood up for more than a song. The vocal improvisation that followed was lame because of this, but surprise number two came in the way of ‘Save Me’, one of my favorite songs and performed superbly by the band, of course. ‘Killer Queen’ followed, but was again modeled after a live version – this time, Live Killers – and heavily abridged, though Mullen brought “audience participation” to another level by wandering through the crowd and dancing with a few willing participants. ‘Now I’m Here’ was scorching, and it was right around this time I turned to Cameron and jokingly said, “I wonder if ‘Brian’ is gonna do a guitar solo.” Much to my amusement, the song was cut short, Mullen and keyboardist Malcolm Gentles exited the stage, and the rhythm section of Billy Moffat (bass) and Jonathan Evans (drums) jammed with guitarist Davie Brockett (“Some guy with long hair who happens to play guitar excellently,” as Cameron described him) for a bit before the multilayered guitar solo began. “Time for a beer break!” Cameron shouted, but we stuck around, and the solo was mercifully brief. It was still enjoyable, and Brockett’s Red Special copy ably reproduced the patented Brian May sound. The first half of the set ended with surprise number three: ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’, which finally got the audience on their feet, applauding and singing along. Just in time for an intermission.

While standing in the lobby for a bit, Cameron was loudly proclaiming his annoyance at the audience while I lamented the fact that I couldn’t remember the songs played. We tried to come up with a definite running order, but without notes, I was helpless. A pen was spotted, and Cameron suggested I take it – so I’m now a proud owner of a blue Bic pen, but it was totally worth it. The lights flashed as Cameron had to run off to pee, so I went back in and stood by our seats. I decided that I would stand for the remainder of the concert, off to the side so that I wasn’t in anyone’s way. The PA kicked in again as the lights went down, and the taped intro of ‘Flash’ began, so I was gearing myself up for a segue into fellow Flash Gordon song ‘The Hero’, but instead a proper ending came, and ‘Tie Your Mother Down’ began. Once again, I watched sadly as the audience pathetically bopped their heads, with only one or two people standing up in the crowd, while a lot of people stood to the side. ‘Keep Yourself Alive’ came next, with a drum solo right in the middle, which finally got the audience up – just in time for ‘Fat Bottomed Girls’, surprise number four of the evening. This allowed the audience to scream their lungs out, but the mood was immediately brought back down by ‘Love Of My Life’. Mullen’s straining voice was obvious by this point, but there wasn’t any audience participation, and Brockett’s acoustic guitar playing was a little strange. (Me not being a musician, I can’t place exactly what was strange about it.)

Mullen brought the rest of the band back onstage and kicked into “an American tune for our American friends”: ‘Jailhouse Rock’, a song that Queen had played in their live sets between 1970 and 1985, but still came as a surprise to me. (That’s surprise number five so far.) Further audience participation invitations came, but it was to no avail; happily, ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ came next, and the audience was once again on their feet and singing. ‘Hammer To Fall’ bored them once again, though, and I could actually see why for once: the song was slightly rearranged to an annoying degree, and isn’t exactly one that I can explain, but drummer Jonathan Evans failed to stick to the well-known drum beat, and I felt it lost a lot of energy. (I noted to Cameron later that, apart from Mullen and Brockett, and maybe keyboardist Gentles, the remainder of the band was expendable, though the bassist I felt was pretty good at times.) ‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’ was the expected follower, with Mullen strapping on a Fender Telecaster a la Mercury and introducing the band and road crew.

A brief break followed, and the audience was finally ready for some interaction. Unfortunately, the set was more or less over, with a brief medley of ‘We Will Rock You’ and ‘We Are The Champions’ marking the end of the show. Mullen walked out wearing a Phillies baseball cap and draped in an American flag (much like Mercury did at most shows, though the cap was something new and received a loud cheer from the audience), and the crowd sang along and genuinely seemed to enjoy themselves. As ‘Champions’ came to an end, Mullen ran off to change into the royal robe and crown that Mercury wore on the ’86 tour. (I don’t know how many people “got it”, though.) The PA played the customary ‘God Save The Queen’ as Cameron and I saluted and sang along, while the crowd spilled out as Mullen thanked us all and called us beautiful people and all that.

I planned on sticking around and meeting the band, and Cameron and I even walked around back to the stage door, but I felt a little weird with us being the only people hanging around. My intent was to ask them why they hadn’t played anything from The Cosmos Rocks (true Queen fans will get that), before I pondered aloud why nothing from The Miracle or Innuendo was played. And that’s my only real gripe: as talented as the band is, and as vocally similar Mullen is to Mercury, they relied too much on the big hits, and were only rare adventurous enough to offer something truly obscure. But to have thrown in something like ‘These Are The Days Of Our Lives’ or ‘I Want It All’, or even some lesser known songs from the other albums (I was honestly surprised that ‘I Want To Break Free’ and ‘Radio Ga Ga’ weren’t played), would have been nice. Then I realized that it didn’t matter all that much to me: I was incredibly impressed with Mullen and the band, and felt like I had just witnessed a Queen spectacle. They could have played Live At Wembley ’86 in its entirety, note for note, and I would have been just fine with that.

Thank you, One Night of Queen (or, as their website officially calls them, Gary Mullen and The Works), for showing me how wrong I was about tribute bands. Next time you’re in Glenside, I’ll stick around and ask you some questions, but don’t expect me to start work on One Night of Queen: Complete Works just yet…