ETA:Here it is on YT! And a translation of the narration below, thanks to katycake
QAL TV Feature from Israel
Translated from the Hebrew by katycake
Link to original: bidur.nana10.co.il/Article/?ArticleID=1195936
- Dana was in Bucharest
- That's right!
- Last week, in QAL's concert who are on their way here, met them for a talk. How was it?
- One of the best if not THE best show I've ever been to my entire life, I was so excited.
- But you probably hadn't seen Freddie Mercury?..
- Listen, there was an overlap of our lives of about 6 years, and then he departed sadly…
- …originally. Dana came back mainly infatuated with BM, the guitarist.
- That's right, very much so.
- Yes, and that romance went on, in the evening, at the hotel, after the show
When this guy enters stage at the beginning of a show, he knows that EVERYBODY's after him. The burden of proof is on Adam Lambert, and it's very tricky.
He cannot forget it, mainly because he's being reminded again and again
(crowd shouting "Freddie Freddie")
It isn't something you can sweep under the table
(Adam talks to crowd)
So he isn't Freddie, don't get it wrong, but there is no more Freddie
In 1986, exactly 30 years ago, the man with the endless octaves, the personality of a glam diva and the overbite, took stage with his cape and crown for the last time in front of an unbelievable number – 150,000 people.
After this show the deterioration began, everybody suddenly discovered AIDS, the entertainment world paid the heaviest price. Freddie Mercury died at 45 and left behind an excellent band, powerful songs, and a hole that can't be filled, until that one guy showed up at the talent show American Idol for the first audition.
(Adam's AI audition)
Today we're sitting to talk with them when they're scorching stadiums around the world, here in the Park in September, now let's say in the luxurious palace of the dictator Ceausescu in Bucharest. Here's an example of someone who's life completely changed because of reality shows.
Queen's songs live on. The theatricality of Freddie Mercury (who was born in Zanzibar), made them entertaining for the next generations, but there is a generation gap. When Queen established in the early 70s, Lambert, as they say, wasn't even in the plan yet, nor was the reality genre that discovered him. Brian May is 68, Lambert is 33, less than a half.
(BM talks about Adam's energy)
(Freddie sings Living on My Own)
Mercury was gay. Nobody talked about it back then. Had he survived the first era of AIDS, he would have probably been on the Cocktail today, and could go on singing. For Lambert, a moment after AI (in which he didn't win, by the way) ended, it was easier: he just came out right away in an interview, not something that was done in the 70s.
(BM talks about the gay aspect)
May, who also wrote songs like WWRY, and does wonders with the guitar today just like back then, carries on the mission, gets up to sing himself from time to time and makes the audience emotional
He also had an impressive academic career. In 2007 he finished his dissertation in astrophysics, but it doesn't prevent him from being interested in lesser issues. (KQ) These curls, for instance, remained black for years, until it was decided that rockers can turn grey as well, as long as you're dignified and thick as you used to.
(talk about curls)
So on Sep. 12 they're in Israel. The producers Applebaum and Mario Arlovsky are dealing with an exceptionally busy summer, hoping that the classics would win in the box offices over the flood of shows, and will fill up the Park. If it warms anybody's heart, Lambert is also Jewish, with affinity to Israel
(Song for Peace)
Here, for example, in a memorial to Rabin, just like in the army's band…
In the studio:
- Then, the show is over, she's sitting in the hotel's bar, suddenly someone passes through
- Like the last of the groupies, I lunged on him
- She pulled BM to sit with her at the bar
- I wasn't alone by the way, I was with some other Israeli guys
- OK. How much does a rocker like him drink after a show?
- He ordered one drink
- I'm not asking how many you had... What do you talk about with a legendary guitarist who's almost 70?
- He told me that he has 3 cats, but one doesn't get along with the two others, so he split them, and now they live in separate houses. How cool when you're a rock star and have several houses…
- How could he talk when he was inside your ear all the time? (pic of BM kissing her)
- Stop! It's only in the… BTW he had a bodyguard that sat with us and kept giving me looks…
- The bodyguard?
- Not like that, like he was angry with me, because I was the reason they couldn't go to sleep.
- Did you exchange numbers?
- Yes, and emails too.
- You have Brian May's number in your mobile??
- Ah, no, he's got MY number, but we exchanged emails and we're already corresponding…
- Do you know how many phone numbers and emails of interviewers from around the world he has in his mobile?
- No, because I am one and only and special… and I invited him to dinner at my mother's. She's an excellent cook.
Adam Lambert is headed out on the road—again. The Grammy-nominated singer-songwriter is set to tour North America this summer as the frontman of Queen alongside the band’s surviving members Roger Taylor and Brian May.
It’s far from the first time Lambert has taken the stage with the band, with whom he’s been performing in varying capacities since he appeared on American Idol in 2009, but this North American arena tour may be their most ambitious yet. For Lambert, the collaboration isn’t about an attempt to fill Freddie Mercury’s shoes: “I’m not trying to replace him!” Lambert says. “It’s very much a celebration of the legacy of the band. I’m a fan that’s gotten this amazing opportunity to sing this music—to bring the songs back to life.”
Lambert spoke with TIME about the dynamic with Queen, the sound of his new music and how things have changed for gay performers.
TIME: Did you have instant chemistry with the other guys in Queen?
Adam Lambert: It was obvious to all three of us that this felt really natural. They liked what I was doing musically. It just felt connected. Then things snowballed. They said after that [American Idol] performance, “Hey, we’re interested in doing something.” I said, “Yeah, me too, but hold on a bit—let me get my album out.” Then one thing after another happened.
What’s the demographic breakdown at these shows—is it primarily Queen loyalists, or your fans?
I don’t know if I’d be able to break down the pie chart for you, but I look into the audience and recognize fans that I’ve seen at my concerts. Then I see a lot of dads—people that are old enough to be my parents. Depending on where we are, there’s a lot of young people that come. At first, I didn’t know how the diehard Queen fans were going to accept me. That was intimidating. This is holy ground. But from the get-go, it was a warm reception. Over the years, it gets easier and easier.
What’s different about playing a Queen show as opposed to touring your own solo material?
A handful of the songs in the set are absolutely ridiculous—high camp. Because the audience already loves the song, I know I can push it as far as I want. It’s the most liberating thing. I wonder, whatever happened to watching an artist and having them make you laugh? Where is that in music? In the ‘70s and ‘80s, there was a lot of that. It was over the top. They weren’t taking themselves that seriously.
Has it gotten easier to be a male pop star? There certainly seem to be more on the charts than there used to be.
A lot of the big male pop artists that are successful right now, in my opinion, seem to have to fit a certain type of behavior. It’s very homogenized; a lot of them act and talk and dress the same. I think the idea is, “Do you feel like you could either be his best friend, or is he somebody you’d want to sleep with?” Those are the two types.
How do you think you fit into the current pop landscape?
That’s the hardest thing about being somebody that’s been in the business now since Idol seven years ago, which is where it all started. You’re a known entity—that’s a good thing. You have a built in fanbase. But sometimes changing people’s minds, or bringing them something that’s a new phase in your career, is a hard sell. Whereas people love discovery. If they love a new song: “I don’t know who the artist is, but the song is sick.” I don’t know how much people are paying attention to talent these days—I think it’s about vibe.
It felt like the sound of popular music was starting to turn toward more organic soundscapes, and now we’ve had another EDM bubble.
Tempos all shifted down. It’s always going to be the festival audience, and I’m sure that’s part of it for kids—they want to go to festivals and take drugs. But more important than the drugs, for some people, is being in that communal environment watching music. There’s something that we’re getting as a crowd, that you don’t get much of these days, because everybody’s behind a phone. Everyone is so detached from each other because they’re on their device all the time, so there’s some power in a live performance that you don’t get anywhere else.
You were the first openly gay recording artist to hit No. 1 on the album chart, which is a significant milestone. How have things changed for LGBTQ performers?
For awhile there, just being a gay artist in the music industry defeated me in moments. It messed with my head. It made me feel a little insecure. I don’t know how much the gay community actually supports their own—it would be nice if we could build each other up a little bit more. It’s us projecting our own self-loathing—but it’s interesting, because that’s generational too. I feel like the kids coming up right now are more hopeful. Look at all the gender fluidity stuff that’s become the conservation right now. The kids coming up right now are less hung up on stereotypical gender roles. It’s funny, because I look at kids rocking some nail polish or a little glitter and I’m like, “Do you guys think this is new? I’ve been doing this for years.”
What was the biggest challenge you faced?
When I auditioned for Idol, I was in a really good place with who and what I was. I had no shame. After Idol, there were moments where I felt ashamed of my identity because I was made to feel that way, indirectly—by the industry I was in, by being a public figure, by being judged by pockets of people that I never would have encountered before. I was running around with artists and weird kids and then all of a sudden, Susie Homemaker is weighing in on what I’m wearing or who I’m kissing. Therefore, the recording industry and radio are going, “Maybe that’s not mainstream. We’re not going to make any money on this because of Susie Homemaker.” That became such a mindfuck to me that I definitely had a moment here or there where I was like, “Should I even be doing this? Am I happy? Am I enjoying this? Is it worth it?” I would keep circling back to when I was onstage in front of an audience going, “This is what I’m supposed to be doing.” It was a lot I had to fight against.
You’re working on another solo album—what’s the sound of what you’re working on now?
I want to try something a little different than what I did before. It’s a lot bluesier and earthier. I want to get back to live instruments—I like guitar and bass. I want to do it more for me. If people are into it, coo
Words make you think a thought. Music makes you feel a feeling. A song makes you feel a thought.