Queen might well be one of the most lucrative rock bands of all time.
Their position as pedestal-hoggers in the eyes of the British public was not an overnight ascension. The group were steadfast in their dedication to theatrical rock music, and would take some time to become the giants of stadium rock they were before the death of Freddie Mercury.
But to make it to the top, you need to have a lot of things fall in place for you. One of which, often forgotten, is advantageous management. It’s an ugly part of the business, but a business it is, so having someone whose eyes are solely on the bottom line is entirely necessary once you pass a certain threshold. However, it does have its issues, too.
These days, talk of artist exploitation is all the rage in the age of online streaming, but creatives finding themselves in a financial cuckold is nothing new. In an industry always reliant on cash flow, the grubby hands of business folk will always be clutching. However, fortunately for artists, you can always reply with an amplified sonic volley… just ask Queen.
In 1975, the band were an established act with a slew of hits under their belt, but as Roger Taylor mused, somehow, they couldn’t even afford new drumsticks. All the while, “you see them [the management] running around in stretch limos and think ‘hang on, there’s something not right here!’” Taylor raged.
What’s more, matters were made even worse considering that the band felt mismanagement was holding them back to boot.
Thus, they parted ways with Trident Studios in a very acrimonious way, and Freddie Mercury set about pointing a rock ‘n’ roll finger at its fat-cat owner, Norman Sheffield, with a hit song for their latest record, A Night At The Opera. What better title to give such a musical offensive than ‘Death On Two Legs’. During the scathing attack, Mercury brilliant sings: “You’ve taken all my money, and you want more / Misguided old mule with your pigheaded rules / With your narrow-minded cronies who are fools / Of the first division”.
The song even opened their first album with EMI and Elektra, as if to unflinching begin with a stern goodbye. Furthermore, they ensured Sheffield would see the unflinching form of the printed word too. As author Michael Chabon recalled, “the lyrics [were] printed on the inside and you could just sit there poring over them and trying to figure out who Freddie might be talking about on songs like ‘Death On Two Legs’.” For Sheffield, that lyric sheet was rather less ambiguous.
Although the song doesn’t actually mention Sheffield by name, the subtle dedication was enough to prompt him to sue. The resulting legal battle resulted in an out-of-court settlement; however, this arrangement inadvertently meant that Sheffield revealed himself as the target of the song in an act of being hoisted by your own petard.
Trident Studios struggled to sustain a stronghold on their artists thereafter, and it seemed like the glory days of hosting David Bowie, Queen, Elton John, T Rex, and other huge names were over. In 1981, Trident Studios was eventually sold by the Sheffield brothers to their senior engineer, Stephen Short.
Fortunately, its iconic Trident Tri-mix desk that produced so much great music survived and is now housed in The Cure’s Phil Thornalley’s own studio.
