Adam Lambert strikes a pose atop a spinning motorcycle that’s half Harley-Davidson, half disco ball singing “Bicycle Race.”
Lambert is at peak Glambert. He’s cheeky, charming, swagger stuffed in leather, and absolutely crushing an insanely difficult song to cover on stage Sunday at the TD Garden in front of a packed house.
Adam Lambert is very good at his job. And at the same time, no one can replace Freddie Mercury. And everyone knows this. Especially Adam Lambert.
The thing is Brian May and Roger Taylor are still perfect — note for note perfect! — at their jobs, even at 76 and 74, respectively.
Rock has entered an interesting, odd phase. John Mayer can stand in for Jerry Garcia with members of the Grateful Dead. Axl Rose can fill in for Brian Johnson in AC/DC. Eagles tour with Glenn Frey’s kid, Phil Collins tours with his own kid playing his drum parts, Michael Sweet of Stryper actually logged time singing for Boston.
What are we to do? Scream “cash grab?” Skip the show? Mock the revolution for being televised, commodified, commercialized? In the case of Queen + Adam Lambert, so popular they booked back-to-back Garden parties, maybe we can miss Freddie and shout along to “Bicycle Race,” “Somebody to Love,” “Bohemian Rhapsody,” and rest of the hits and stone cold classics.
May and Taylor should get to play these songs (many of which they wrote) if they can still play them. And it’s shocking what they can do five decades into rock ‘n’ roll. Taylor still plays so deep in the pocket while tossing out fills that are both subtle and virtuosic. May has a bigger role to play — his guitar was always the second most distinctive thing about Queen.
May needed a few songs to heat up, but, my word, he eventually became pure fire. He took his time building up an epic groove on the extended outro of “Fat Bottomed Girls.” He showed off his delicate and lyrical side on the haunting “Who Wants to Live Forever.” He blitzed through the furious, glorious tangle of notes that made up the climax of “I Want It All.”
Of course, ears and eyes often return to Lambert (how could they not? see “disco ball Harley,” “leather swagger”).
The most dramatic, bombastic, histrionic voice to come from “American Idol” can sing every note in the Queen catalog. Sometimes Lambert can sing too much like Freddie — notably on “Who Wants to Live Forever.” But over the past dozen years he’s been doing this, he’s become wonderfully confident. Maximum commitment, eyeliner and ego, costume changes and charisma, glitter and glam packaged with the staccato attack of “Stone Cold Crazy,” the eerie and ethereal intro to “I Want It All,” and the pomp and preening of “Killer Queen.”
Label this rock star fantasy camp or karaoke with a million dollar budget. Queen + Adam Lambert have managed to build something unlikely, imperfect, amazing, endlessly entertaining, and worthy. Skip it — skip anything that isn’t a classic line up — if you want. But know what you’re missing.
