Through Chrissie's eyes

Crossfire

That wasn't the only time the boys fought over the album they were working on. Brian was trying hard not to fight and accept the arrangements that John wanted, but of course even his apparent infinite patience had a limit.

It was so bad to see that tense mood, I knew if I tried to say or do something, I would be entering in something that had nothing to do with me. All I could do was hope that the worst wouldn't happen.

Fortunately Brian managed to distract himself from the anger he was feeling by concentrating on his own compositions, but even so, he lost his temper with himself.

For several days he was concentrating on an idea he had, but nothing made him satisfied. He wrote and rewrote more lyrics, trying to get into something that made sense, but by the end of the day he had discarded everything. Only the wrinkled drafts were left on the table around him.

"Bri?" I tried to call him, afraid of the state he was in.

"No, no, no, no." He shook his head frantically, noticing how much he had spent on paper, unable to get anywhere. "I can't stand Chrissie, I can't stand ... Nothing I've written makes any sense..."

"Oh come on, my love, you write so well, something has to serve in the middle of it all." I began to unwrap the papers.

While he went to get some coffee, which he took slowly trying to calm himself, I ran my eyes over the writing on the papers. I read though the kneading of the paper and Brian's running handwriting, which was hard to understand when he wrote quietly, imagined when he wrote nervously like that.

"Do you have any comments?" my husband asked without expectation or perspective.

"It's not your best job ..." I muttered, a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, I know, this thing about not being rock is limiting me too much, I'm not comfortable getting out of my comfort zone" he sighed "what do I do now?"

"Bri, take a break for a while, suddenly a better idea comes with time" I suggested.

"Yeah, maybe, but the way I am, I can't focus on anything, let alone relax." The tension in Brian's voice hadn't diminished at all.

"I know, I know, so ..." I drummed my fingers on the table, trying to think of another suggestion "do you have another idea for another song?"

"Actually, I have ..." Brian's face lit up slowly. "I'm going to work on it, and then I'm back in the mess."

I just smiled to see Brian getting back to normal, and he set to work on another song. From my suggestion came "Put Out the Fire", which I really liked. However we knew that the music would pass through Freddie and John disco filter.

As for "Dancer", which came up after so many attempts, Brian was finalizing it very upset, judging it to be one of his worst compositions. At least when we were in the studio, he behaved and accepted the changes in his songs.

Then came something worse, as if it were possible, but in the end it was. John showed the boys his song called "Back Chat" and soon we saw Brian writhing in anger.

"It's not a hint to me, is it?" my husband asked suspiciously.

"Brian, you're very paranoid," John sighed. "It's just a song about lack of patience, who has never had anyone making us mad? That's it, and why do you want to know? You never questioned the inspiration of the songs, why now, are you doing this?"

"I just wanted to know," Brian said, trying not to be more angry than he already was.

He picked up Red Special and stayed in a corner, working on a solo, lost in his world, trying to escape the tension of the moment.

"Ready, Brian?" Freddie called him to join the general rehearsal of "Back Chat."

"Yeah, I just wanted to put a solo in the middle of the song" he said, and that was like lighting a match at a gas station.

"What part of without guitar you don't understand?" Deacon got angry "it's disco! No guitar! But you have to have your moment to shine, don't you?"

"Calm down, John" Roger said to my surprise.

!I told you that you wanted to take my function in the band, it's clear now that's what you wanted to do!" Brian shouted, staring at John "I didn't compose the solo for no reason, we will put my solo in the song!"

"We wont!" John insisted.

"Brian!" I had to shout, catching the attention of the four, they were about to attack each other "if John asked not to have the solo, leave it without it."

"Are you going to stay by his side now?" he said, and I knew that he had been hurt, just as I was startled by his tone.

"I'm on the side of the four to be friends again and understand each other" I clarified, standing firm, "just play and stop arguing."

They looked at me as if they had been pinched, finally coming back to reason.

"John, let Brian's solo be part of the song, we won't change anything, just add that" asked Freddie.

"All right" Deacon agreed, and each one went back to their seat, resuming the recording.

By a miracle, "Back Chat" was finalized in that session. John and Brian didn't talk to each other when we left. I also got in the car in silence, still scared that Brian had shouted with me. We rarely fought and never argued in front of the band, but that moment hurt me anyway. I noticed him staring at me, but I didn't dare to look at him.

"Forgive me, Chrissie, I know that I let you down, very ugly, it was selfish of me, but I just wanted to contribute at least a little, and I was so angry at John that I let it slip, but I shouldn't want your support knowing I was wrong" Brian sighed, after speaking all this at once "my love, look at me, I promise that it's me again, I'm sorry ..."

"I know it was unintentionally, Brian" I admitted, a little tired "but even so, this whole argument shouldn't come to me, I'm not a Queen member, I shouldn't make decisions for you, but it hurts too much to see you like that, I had to do something. And you know, Bri, I agree with you, but you should give in a little, accept John and Freddie's decisions better, it's their turn to do something they like musically, not yours. And ... I forgive you, of course I forgive you. But seriously, I'm pregnant and it's no good for me to pass through this stress."

"Now that I owe you more excuses," he hesitated, stroking my belly, I just took his hand and put it where he wanted it. "Sorry, my little sweetheart."

And until we got home, the baby got restless. All I wanted was for the boys to finish recording Hot Space soon.

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