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If Queen Won't, Brian May

Sylvie Simmons, Creem, March 1984

SO HERE I am back in the giant Ajax can on Vine Street and waiting for Brian May. I look at my watch; the little hand and the big hand are sticking up like a peace sign; almost noon and it's hard to believe I'm up at this ungodly hour after last night's festivities, let alone the star. (Capitol threw a party to welcome Queen into the Ajax Can family — Elektra won't be getting The Works when it comes out early next year. There were hors d'oeuvres, aperitifs, and talking of a pair of teeths, Freddie Mercury, Roger Taylor, John Deacon and Brian May.) This is not the usual fluorescent-lit room where Duran Duran posters smirk cheekbonely from the walls. This is a cozy chamber tucked around the back somewhere, through convoluted corridors and up and down staircases — couldn't find it again even if you threatened me with a night at Plato's with Steve Perry — dark and small as a confession box...

Total word count of piece: 2717

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