Tension, ‘Tepid’ Talks: Why Queen Almost Skipped Live Aid

Queen‘s galvanizing set at Live Aid 40 years ago at Wembley Stadium in London has gone on to become perhaps the best-remembered performance of the day — in no small part thanks to its through-line role in the blockbuster 2018 biopic Bohemian Rhapsody.

But making that performance happen was an epic drama in its own right.

In the new documentary Live Aid: When Rock ‘n’ Roll Took on the World, premiering Sunday (July 13) on CNN and the BBC, British Live Aid promoter Harvey Goldsmith says, “I couldn’t think of a better band to give a kick to the show than having Queen on, not as one of the closing acts but in that low (early evening) period.” But he adds that organizer Bob Geldof “had this thing about not having them on,” which is echoed by Queen drummer Roger Taylor. “Bob came from a post-punk explosion,” Taylor explains, “so he had pretensions of being a bit punk, I think. He probably thought we were slightly sort of dinosaurs.”

Geldof’s response? Yes…and no. “Look, if you want a single reason why punk existed, a single word — Queen, okay?” the Boomtown Rats frontman — who now calls Taylor “seriously, no showbiz, a great friend” — tells Billboard via Zoom. “Spare me all this f–king, ‘Hey, we use the studio as an instrument.’ Oh, f-ck off! These pantomime dames strutting around the place…My generation came around, with that animus of anger and the sincere belief that the world is not immutable and things can change and you can be an instrument in and of that change. The first line you ever hear from (Boomtown Rats in 1977’s ‘Lookin’ After No. 1′) is, ‘The world owes me a living.’ We came with that attitude, and rock ‘n’ roll seemed to no longer be about anything that was realistic. It wasn’t about the economic or social conditions we wanted to change, and (Queen) were emblematic of that with these operatic songs. Now, as I’m in my dotage, I am perhaps able to accept that they’ve written some genius pop songs.”

Despite his feelings at the time, Geldof contends that in planning Live Aid, “it wasn’t that I was against Queen. I didn’t mind. I was saying, ‘Why, Harve, are you so insistent on this?’ And the truth is ’cause he wanted to do their next European tour. So he says, ‘You call them.’ I say, ‘You f–king call them! I don’t know Queen. I have no interest.’” Geldof relented, however, but made his first inquiry to keyboardist Spike Edney, who had worked with the Rats and was then on tour with Queen in Australia and New Zealand.

“He said, ‘They’re not in a good place. We’re all exhausted. The tour didn’t go great. They’re not sure what they’re gonna do…. It may be game over,'” Geldof recalls. Queen’s members have acknowledged that it was indeed a difficult time for the band, which was still being criticized for playing South Africa’s Sun City the previous October, defying a United Nations cultural boycott over apartheid. Plus, inner-band relationships were tense, as frontman Freddie Mercury was preparing to make a solo album.

Edney relayed the message, however, and Queen asked why Geldof didn’t ask directly. “So I spoke to Roger, who wasn’t a big mate then but I knew him, ’cause he used to hang around the punk clubs. He said, ‘Bob, look, we love what you’re doing, but it’s not really us, is it?’ We’re talking about the band that played South Africa before they drank the Kool-Aid and hung with Nelson (Mandela). So (Taylor) said, ‘It’s not really our thing, and we’re tired and Fred…’ I said, ‘I know, he might do a solo album.’ (Taylor) said, ‘You’ll have to talk to him.’ I said, ‘Will you get Fred to call me?’ He said, ‘I’ll try.’ Then (Queen manager) Jim Beach called. I thought, ‘Oh, no.’ Jim’s a lovely English gentleman, but he’s hardcore. And he said, ‘Oh, we love what you’re doing, Bob, but it’s not really our thing, is it? And you know Fred…’ I said, ‘Just ask Fred.’ So a couple of days pass and the phone rings: ‘Bobsy!’ I said, ‘Hi, Freddie’; I didn’t know him well, but I’d been to a party at his place. He said, ‘Oh, darling, we love what you’re doing. It’s fabulous, but it’s not really our thing, is it?’ I said, ‘Well, is it anybody’s thing? It’s just something we can all do,’ and he goes, ‘Oh yes…but I may be making my own record, and….’ At that point I figured if they don’t want to do it, I’d go back to Harvey and say, ‘They didn’t want to do it, Harvey. What can I tell you?’

“For some reason I ended this tepid conversation (with Mercury) and I just said, ‘Well, look, Fred, if ever there was a stage built for you, this it.’ And he said, ‘Well, what do you mean?’ And I said, ‘Well, darling — the world.’ And there was a pause and Freddie said, ‘I think I know where you’re coming from.’ The next minute they show up at Live Aid and are beyond genius.”

There’s no denying that. Situated between Dire Straits and David Bowie, Queen presented a nonstop medley — fashioned during three days of intense rehearsals at the Shaw Theatre in North London — that began with the opening portion of “Bohemian Rhapsody” then moved to “Radio Ga Ga,” with its famous full-audience clap-along and Mercury’s call-and-response ay-ho chant with the crowd. “Hammer to Fall,” “Crazy Little Thing Called Love,” “We Will Rock You” and “We Are the Champions” brought things to a rocking close, leaving fans and peers alike open-mouthed and cheering. In his memoir Who I Am, Pete Townshend, whose reunited Who played two acts later, acknowledged that Queen “stole the show.”

“(Geldof) described it to us as a ‘global jukebox,'” Taylor explained subsequently. “So we put together a few bangers, the songs we though everybody would know and love, and put them all together. It felt good. I think it hit the right notes.”

For Geldof, all these years later, any reservations about Queen are well in the rearview mirror. “Amazing, that’s all. Just fantastic,” he says. “You just heard the story of this fantastic outfit, this mad, improbable band doing mad, improbable music…and everybody loved it. And still loves it.”