A few weeks ago we made another of our regular family visits to the ever entertaining Brooklands Museum
We’ve been season ticket holders here for many years and never cease to be amazed by the sheer wealth of history to be discovered each time we visit.
On our most recent trip to Weybridge, we paid the extra fiver for a “flight” on Brooklands’ very own Concorde.
This development model has been painstakingly-restored and visitors can re-live the experience of flying aboard the supersonic icon without ever leaving the museum’s confines.
Part of the video presentation aboard ‘Delta Golf’ is an achingly-moving retrospective montage on the life and times of Concorde & it is set off perfectly by the soundtrack music – Queen’s anthemic “Don’t Stop Me Now”.
And it’s this particular choice of music which has caused me more than a degree of concern because it has made a Queen fan out of my impressionable 6 year old son..
Now, I have to say that I’ve never really been a Queen fan.
No, let me re-phrase that – I couldn’t stand them.
As somebody who spent the 80s and 90s devoted to all that was Indie, the caterwaulings of Freddie Mercury, whilst undoubtedly very impressive just left me cold, along with the painfully over-long & self-indulgent guitar solos favoured by poodle-permed maestro of the Marshall stack Bryan May.
Queen seemed to sum up all that I couldn’t stand – self-regarding, establishment, AOR stadium rock..
Anyway, I now find myself, proud father to a six year old son whose musical education up to now has been carefully crafted using (in the main) the Factory Records & 4AD back catalogues and The Human League.
However, he’s now demonstrating alarming signs of obsession with not just the aforementioned “Don’t Stop Me Now” but every other Queen
“classic” included on the second-hand ‘best of’ CD we rashly purchased for him on a well-known Internet auction site..
This then leaves me perched on the horns of a dilemma – do I encourage him to continue singing “Fat Bottomed Girls” at the top of his voice – which I do have to admit amuses me quite a bit – or do I try & steer him away from the dark path of pomp rock & back onto the righteous path of angst-ridden lyrics and doom-laden chord structures..?
Answers on a postcard to the usual address please..