It's Brian May's birthday, and I couldn't decide what to do about it. (Other than trying to force everyone to bake cupcakes.) I could have just re-run last year's birthday tribute, but that only covered the basics. I was thinking, why not delve deeper into a particular segment of his brilliance this year? But which to choose? His technical skill? That not only does he have the greatest guitar tone ever recorded, it is largely due to the fact that he and his dad built the Red Special themselves? How about his ability to take the tiniest space and leave the mark of genius, such as in Killer Queen, Another One Bites The Dust, and Radio Ga Ga?
While all of these are worthwhile discussion topics, I started leaning toward his songwriting talent, which is far too often overlooked. But then came the problem. Which song did I want to talk about? Always and forever, my favorite Brian May composition is '39. As far as A Night At The Opera goes, '39 is the sparkling jewel. I sincerely believe that Seaside Rendezvous is the album highlight, but '39 is the song that makes me drop everything and listen.
If A Night At The Opera is a dessert menu, '39 is the fresh fruit choice surrounded by dense pastries. It doesn't leave you feeling heavy headed and in need of a nap the way The Prophet's Song does. It's short, it's sweet, and it is oh-so-delicious. But after much consideration, I decided against talking about '39. I instead turned to Queen II, and the astonishing opening combination of Procession and Father To Son.
If there is a better use of one minute and twelve seconds than Procession anywhere in music, I haven't heard it. And if I have heard it, I can't think of it right now because I am delirious with joy over Procession. Thump. Thump. Thump-Thump. (That's the opening drum part-hum along with me.) Queen II is a magnificent recording, but people usually tend to focus on side two, which is 100% written by Freddie Mercury. It seems to be a concept album, very mythological in nature, and if you listen to it enough, a story unfolds. I don't know if there is supposed to be a story there, but I sure hear one.
Anyway, much of the credit is given to Freddie, but without Procession the album wouldn't work. Procession sets the tone for the record. It is a one minute and twelve second instrumental that sounds very much like a traditional processional but it has a rock and roll twist. Brian's phrasing and tone are impeccable, and the first note you hear features Brian accompanying himself in his now-classic style. Almost all of his lines are doubled, and it is big and lush. It gears you up for something grand, and of course Queen does not disappoint.
Procession flows smoothly into Father To Son and the transition is perfect. Procession is very powerful, but the end of the song seems to fade into something mild. Don't worry, that's only temporary. Instead of ending completely, it trails off into a brief gentle interlude and then Brian hits a huge chord and then another huge chord, and then the drums kick in and before you have a chance to say, "Yeeeeaaahh! Yes! Rock!" here come the vocals. Freddie hits that first note and you are done for. The album owns you.
The music remains in the huge chord vein as Freddie sings the first two lines, but then Brian switches back to multi-layered, processional-sounding lines and it is so good that your eyes will start involuntarily watering. Throughout the song, the procession-style riffs continue under the verses, but in the non-verse parts (there is no such thing as a reoccurring chorus in Father To Son-this isn't Bon Jovi we are talking about) he sticks with the huge chords. About midway through the song, there is a riff that is so heavy that if it were more distorted, it would be perfectly comfortable in an Anthrax song. I enjoy the idea of Brian May, father of thrash, but I'm guessing that other people are going to give that title to Tony Iommi, so I will just have to work up a really good argument before I start this particular campaign. Maybe I will have to make some color-coded charts.
Anyway, did I mention the fanfare? Near the end of Father To Son, Brian goes from a standard processional line to a little trill that puts me in mind of trumpet fanfares. Common sense tells me that this is not hard to play. It is just the tiniest flick of the pick (well, he plays with a sixpenny piece) that creates the sound, but that is not the point! It doesn't matter that it is probably easy to play, the point is that he thought to play it! Genius!
In fact, the whole Procession/Father To Son combination is genius, and Brian's deep understanding of musical dynamics set the stage for an entire album filled with strokes of genius. (And The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke!) Over the course of writing this, I have listened to Procession and Father To Son at least ten times in a row, and I keep marveling at how good they are. (Yes, every seven minutes and twenty-six seconds I have been hopping up and putting the record needle back at the start of the album. But I could not live with myself if I said that Brian hits two chords when it is really three. I like having a site where quality control means listening to Queen II many times.)
I also need to mention that some of you may be horrified that I left out White Queen (As It Began) in this very special tribute to Brian May, and I can't say that I blame you. That is the song that follows Father To Son and it is also mouth watering. It's got parentheses, it's got a fanfare even bigger and more magnificent than the one in Father To Son, and it cements the mythological direction that the album takes. But this is just a practical matter. If I included White Queen (As It Began) this would have turned into an eight-volume set bound in handsome leather.
So, even though any talk of White Queen (As It Began) will be delayed, the fond birthday wishes cannot wait. Happy birthday to Brian May, musical genius and father of thrash.