In the Year of the Cat (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

Birdman's Eye View: The First to Know

"Sleepin' on the sidewalk/ Rollin' down the road," Brian sings into the microphone.  From where Roger, the sound guys, and I sit in the control room, he looks just as easygoing as he sounds.  This is a better take than the one before it; Brian's voice is one that needs to warm up a bit.

I have to say, this is probably the fastest any song of his has come together.  We had completed the backing track in a single take, moving along so smoothly that I practically forgot we were recording and let my mind slip away a moment.  For a brief second my focus shifted from "Sleeping on the Sidewalk" to the ticking time bomb that is the Relic, sitting quietly (so far) on the sofa in the control room.  I flubbed the bass line at a few places and didn't even notice.  Fortunately, neither did anyone else when we played it back.  All the same, hopefully we'll get a chance to rerecord it once Freddie returns.  I don't like little slip-ups any more than the rest of Queen.

It's Brian's vocals that are going to take longer.  I can feel it.  He's almost as shy about singing as I am- and I don't sing.  (But trust me, there's a reason for that.)  I can completely understand.  Our front man's a hard act to follow.  Yet even I know Freddie's voice wouldn't work in this almost Bad Company, bluesy sort of song. 

"And Ah sure do wanna go home," he finishes at last in his mock American accent.  It's rather exaggerated, but still reminds me of Freddie's mysterious pet.  As American as Eve- I mean, Julia- may be, she doesn't talk like that.  I wonder where she comes from- where her "home" is.  Again I glance at the Relic.  It won't be much longer before I can find out. 

After the final prerecorded cymbal crash, Brian pulls off the headphones, which made a funny dent in his trademark mop of curls. 

"That one was better," Roger pipes. 

"Let me see," Brian replies through the intercom.  He comes back in and we play the whole thing back.  When it finishes, he nods, satisfied.  "Great.  Just need to record the harmonies."

"Shouldn't we wait for Freddie for that?" Mike, our producing assistant, asks.

Roger shrugs.  "Maybe we should."

But Brian doesn't look too keen on the idea.  "I mean, we could, but it would be nice if we finished the whole thing today, so we could start playing with the production side of it."

I realize what's going on.  This is a tit-for-tat thing.  A song completely of Brian's creation, with no theatrical Mercury trimmings, in exchange for Freddie's own thoroughly un-rock and roll "My Melancholy Blues."

"Then why should there have to be a guitar solo in a song where the guitar wouldn't work?" I mumble.

Brian looks up.  "What?"

Oh, perfect.  Now I have to explain.  "On that jazz song they wrote-"

"They?  Oh, yeah, that girl.  Yoko Revisited."

"You mean, Okoy," Roger corrects him.  He looks a little uncomfortable at the mention of Julia.  I can't help smiling to myself just a bit.

"Whatever.  You were saying, John?"

"I mean, I, uh- I don't really think they should have to include a guitar part, I'm not sure it would work right," I say cautiously.

"But it's already there," Brian protests.

"Well, maybe we just need to redo it, God knows it's simple enough," I suggest.

Roger rolls his eyes.  He's no more crazy about that song than Brian.  "This is such a lot of trouble for a stupid jazz thing.  If it wasn't for Okoy, I'd still say no to it."