scans.
FREDDIE'S NIGHTMARE
So, you're in NED'S ATOMIC DUSTBIN and you can't get on the Freddie bill at Wembley. What do you do? Stage your own AIDS awareness gig at the Marquee in London! And you invite SIMON WILLIAMS along to join in the learning process. Pictures: STEVE DOUBLE
Basically we wanted the line-up to be more accessible to the indie
kids, so we decided to arrange an alternative day with the best indie
bands. We don't want to detract from Wembley and say That's crap - come
to this one', we just wanted to give people an option."
Somewhere over the other side of London opulence is meaning more: 72,000
Queen fans are trampling over the sacred turf of Wem-ber-lee Stadium
and several galaxies are superglued to their TV boxes, watching an alarming
number of old people fulfil all their karaoke fantasies by pretending
to be Freddie 'Fred' Mercury for a few minutes in the centre of the
great global stage.
As some wag points out later on, what was theoretically a tribute to
the singer appears to be turning into one massive public audition to
find the next Fred. Could it be Paul Young? Or Robert Plant? Or David
St Hubbins? And where the heck is Adam Ant when you don't need him?
Not here for sure.
Somewhere in the VIP suite (arf arf arf) at London's Marquee Club, organiser-by-default
Jayne Houghton and Marquee top knob Paul McAvoy (who's such a Queen
fan he would actually be at Wembley but for this gig!) are guzzling
the first of several Red Stripes and explaining just how and why a stack
of guitar-gripping types have banded together for an 'alternative' tribute
to the Mercury Man himself. Like, er, why hold it at The Marquee, Paul?
"Well, I work here ..."
Right!
As Jayne's opening quote suggests, the idea was to put on a show which
non-Tory voters could afford, but instead of focusing entirely on Freddie
Himself the organisers aim to concentrate more on the HIV/AIDS side
of things. Indeed, all and sundry got so excited during the planning
stages they almost neglected to inform the central charity of their
intentions: "Then we remembered to call the Terrence Higgins Trust
to tell them what we were doing for them!"
"I'm glad that Wembley's going to raise £20 million for the
Trust, and our input isn't going to be much by comparison, but it all
helps," enthuses Jayne.
In terms of AIDS education, the Trust's presence here has been depleted
by the enormo task facing the volunteers over at Wembley. Fortunately,
800 thrusting pop kids should be sussed enough to know that HIV isn't
actually a subsidiary of EMI, so a low key information service should
suffice. And, hey, Ned's Atomic Dustbin are going to be distributing
condoms amongst the masses during their set!
"The Neds throwing out condoms isn't that dissimilar to Elizabeth
Taylor preaching to thousands at Wembley," ponders Jayne, dramatically.
"On this sort of level it's going to have the same impact."
SO THE whole shebang kicks off during the tea time hours with The Bardots,
and then sprints ruthlessly (but not toothlessly) through Big Boy Tomato,
Three And A Half Minutes, Gyroscope, Stare, Sugarblast, US:UK, Sunshot,
Sweet Jesus, Sensitize, The Sandkings, Pop Will Eat Itself and Ned's
Atomic Dustbin until, at about half past Thursday, The Godfathers stomp
all over the finale.
Rumour has it that the Poppies' decision to play was somewhat influenced
by the fact that they didn't think they'd be able to get into the bloody
gig otherwise. Luckily, their three song romp — featuring their
new drummer and masses of stage diving from singer Graham — is
one of the evening's highlights, as is a stack of fresh numbers from
the Neds. Speaking of which, look over there! It's singer Jonn! And
he's talking to us!
"I think Freddie Mercury's death scared everyone to ... death,"
he quips inadvertently and not without heaps of misery in his voice.
"He was someone we grew up with, he was an idol: he was the huge
rock star who everyone was pretending to be in the bathroom mirror!
"For a band like us to get on the Wembley bill was impossible,
but we wanted to do something. The whole idea is like one of those things
where you think, 'Oh yeah, we could always do an alternative AIDS benefit'
and you talk about it and then you think . . . well, yeah, we could
actually!"
And so they are.
"You know your last year at school?" continues the singer,
oddly. "It's like, who's still a virgin? If you are still a virgin
you get the piss ripped out of you. I wonder if it's gonna be the opposite
way round in a few years' time — so, are you still a virgin? You
lucky git! You haven't chanced your arm yet ... "
THE GIG goes on. Peculiarly, there's a healthy crowd in the venue foyer
watching the Wembley transmission on television. Far less peculiarly,
there's a maudlin undertone to proceedings, epitomised by sudden lulls
in conversations, suitably glam-tastic Ben Bentley from Sweet Jesus
decides, after hours of deliberation, that "AIDS is bigger than
anyone - even Freddie."
Maria and Toby from Sunshot appear to be too pissed to hold a rational
conversation. Sensitize have started indulging themselves by wearing
leather trousers. No-one knows where The Godfathers are. But Clint Poppie,
apparently the kind of pop star who's willing to appear in monthly mag
features on groupies, has something to say. And fortunately, he's well
aware of the imbalance between hedonistic tendencies and safer-than-safe
sex.
"Basically, Freddie lived the lifestyle and did what he wanted
to do and I guess he paid the price for it - which, to a certain degree,
anybody in his position probably will do, be it through AIDS or drink
and drugs. Excessiveness will always have an end result like that because
your body can only take so much and then off you go.
"I don't feel comfortable with talking about things like this because
I'm not used to preaching to people," he continues, worriedly,
"but everybody's got to be aware that it could be them next. At
an event like this it's good to stand up and be counted. I might not
make any difference, but at the same time if you don't do anything it
won't make any difference ..."
Remember kids, think condom-mungous.