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You can't not sing this song.
The music of Queen has a profound visceral effect on everyone. Few pieces of art can cause complete strangers to put aside their differences and come together in song, but by golly, “Bohemian Rhapsody” is one of them. It would be cheesy if it weren’t so absolutely beautiful.
This pertains even to non-English-speaking countries, it appears. Recently, thousands of Harry Styles concertgoers in Warsaw, Poland, began cheering as those iconic beginning piano notes penetrated the air.
It wasn’t long before the entire stadium was singing along to that beloved tune and acing every single lyric. As one person commented on YouTube, even though most people in Warsaw don’t speak English, “they sing Queen.”
The passionate impromptu performance serves as a reminder of how special both Queen and the late Freddie Mercury remain today.
“No other band will ever come close to Queen. They were lightning in a bottle and Freddie was a whale in a teardrop. Once people keep singing his words, FM will live on forever,” another YouTube viewer wrote.
Indeed, seeing an entire stadium come alive with “Bohemian Rhapsody,” you can’t help but feel Mercury’s soul return to the mortal plane, as if we’ve all been transported back to that historic Live Aid concert in 1985 when he had the entirety of Wembley Stadium wrapped around his finger for 21 glorious minutes.
Watch below, and try not to sing along. Scratch that—sing your heart out.
"For almost 6 minutes, the equivalent of a small city sang, with one voice, the beautiful song of a man who has been dead for decades. If you can do this, you're not just a famous person, you're a legend."
When polarization starts to feel like a defining characteristic of humanity, sometimes we need a reminder that people really are capable of coming together as one.
Watching a stadium full of Green Day concertgoers bust out their best "Bohemian Rhapsody" when it came over the loudspeakers is just such a reminder.
As the person who uploaded the concert footage to Reddit noted: "For almost 6 minutes, the equivalent of a small city sang, with one voice, the beautiful song of a man who has been dead for decades. If you can do this, you're not just a famous person, you're a legend."
What could be more palette-cleansing than hearing thousands of people breaking into song together for an entire six minutes? What's more unifying than a piece of music being so beloved and well-known that a whole stadium knows every note and word and sings it in unison with all their heart?
As one commenter on Reddit wrote, "Ever notice how one crowd singing together always sound the same as other crowds, as in has the same tambre [sic] and sound quality? It's like the recognizable and familiar voice of humanity. Regardless of how different the people in the crowd are, the crowd always sounds the same. I think the idea that we are listening to humanity's voice when hearing a crowd sing is a beautiful concept."
Listen to the voice of humanity. It's truly a beautiful thing.
Imagine being in the crowd and hearing "Fast Car" for the first time
While a catchy hook might make a song go viral, very few songs create such a unifying impact that they achieve timeless resonance. Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” is one of those songs.
So much courage and raw honesty is packed into the lyrics, only to be elevated by Chapman’s signature androgynous and soulful voice. Imagine being in the crowd and seeing her as a relatively unknown talent and hearing that song for the first time. Would you instantly recognize that you were witnessing a pivotal moment in musical history?
For concert goers at Wembley Stadium in the late 80s, this was the scenario.
The year was 1988. Seventy-two thousand people gathered—along with 600 million more watching along on their televisions—to see headliner Stevie Wonder as part of Nelson Mandela’s 70th birthday tribute concert.
However, technical difficulties (or perhaps some divine timing) rendered Wonder unable to perform his act. Chapman had already played a three-song set earlier in the afternoon, and yet she agreed to step up to the microphone.
Armed with nothing but herself and a guitar, the shy and stoic Chapman captivated everyone to silence. And the rest is history.
Watch:
Using just a simple story, “Fast Car” conveyed a million different themes—the challenges of class and poverty, seeking escape from a small town and yearning for freedom and new opportunity. It’s easy to see why some find the song heartbreaking, while others find it hopeful.
After the Mandela gig, the song became a worldwide hit, earning Chapman Grammy awards and shooting her to stardom. What’s more, she introduced a new wave of socially-conscious music filled with gentle, yet brutally truthful introspection. Since that fateful day, her name is forever synonymous with a quiet revolution. We are quite lucky to get to experience it so many years later.
Fiona Apple speaking at the 1997 MTV Video Music awards.
In 1997, singer-songwriter 19-year-old Fiona Apple was a massive breakthrough artist on MTV, having recently scored big hits with “Shadowboxer,” “Criminal” and “Sleep to Dream” from her debut album, “Tidal.”
However, even though she was still a teenager, she was already suspicious of celebrity culture.
When accepting the award for the single "Sleep to Dream" at the MTV Video Music Awards, she gave an impromptu speech taking dead aim at the music industry. She asked the young people watching to stop emulating the stars they see in music videos and to be themselves.
Her speech was a bold move by a young woman in a room full of celebrities, rock stars and industry people. At the time, it looked like she was committing career suicide in front of the world. Twenty-six years later, it seems even more audacious in a world where the notion of being sellout is a Gen X relic and the entire culture is dominated by influencers.
To celebrate Apple’s 46th birthday on September 13, people have been sharing the speech on X, formerly known as Twitter.
it's fiona apple's birthday and it's mtv vma. throwback to this iconic speech.
— max richter scale (@max richter scale)
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Apple began her speech by quoting Maya Angelou: “See, Maya Angelou said that we, as human beings, at our best, can only create opportunities. And I’m gonna use this opportunity the way that I want to use it,” she said.
“So, what I want to say is, everybody out there that’s watching, everybody that’s watching this world? This world is bulls***,” Apple continued. “And you shouldn’t model your life about what you think that we think is cool and what we’re wearing and what we’re saying and everything. Go with yourself. Go with yourself…And it’s just stupid that I’m in this world, but you’re all very cool to me so thank you very much.”
The next year, Apple clarified her remarks to Rolling Stone, but she didn’t apologize for speaking her mind.
“When I won, I felt like a sellout. I felt that I deserved recognition but that the recognition I was getting was for the wrong reasons,” Apple said. “I felt that now, in the blink of an eye, all of those people who didn’t give a f**k who I was, or what I thought, were now all at once just humoring, appeasing me, and not because of my talent, but instead because of the fact that somehow, with the help of my record company, and my makeup artist, my stylist and my press, I had successfully created the illusion that I was perfect and pretty and rich, and therefore living a higher quality of life. I’d saved myself from misfit status, but I’d betrayed my own kind by becoming a paper doll in order to be accepted.”
Apple’s speech at the 1997 VMAs appears to be a roadmap for the rest of her life. Since then, she has gone on to create one great album after another while eschewing the phoniness of celebrity culture. The “Fetch the Bold Cutters” singer even canceled an entire tour in 2013 because her dog was dying. Apple isn’t on social media and she seems completely content to spend her time watching court cases and spending time with her dog.
Beatle George Harrison was pigeon-holed as the "Quiet Beatle," but the youngest member of the Fab Four had an acerbic, dry sense of humor that was as sharp as the rest of his bandmates.
He gave great performances in the musical comedy classics, "A Hard Days Night" and "Help!" while holding his own during The Beatles' notoriously anarchic press conferences. After he left the band in 1970, in addition to his musical career, he would produce the 1979 Monty Python classic, "The Life of Brian."
Harrison clearly didn't lose his sense of humor for the rest of his life. Shortly before his death in 2001, he played an elaborate prank on Phil Collins that shows how the "Here Comes the Sun" singer would go the extra mile for a laugh.
In 1970, Harrison was recording his first solo record and arguably the best by a Beatle, "All things Must Pass." The session for the song, "The Art of Dying" featured former Beatle Ringo Starr on drums, keyboard legend Billy Preston on keys, virtuoso Eric Clapton on guitar, and was produced by the notorious Phil Spector.
Harrison wanted a conga player for the session, so Ringo's chauffeur reached out to Phil Collins' manager. At the time, Collins was a relative unknown who was about to join Genesis, a band that would bring him worldwide stardom.
The 18-year-old Collins was starstruck playing on a session with two former Beatles, so he played extra hard in rehearsals, resulting in blood blisters on both hands.
"Anyway, after about two hours of this, Phil Spector says, 'Okay congas, you play this time.' And I'd had my mic off, so everybody laughed, but my hands were shot," Collins told Express.
"And just after that they all disappeared – someone said they were watching TV or something – and I was told I could go," after that, Collins was relieved of his duties and told to go home. A few months later, Collins bought the massive triple album in the record shop and was devastated to learn he'd been edited out of the song.
"There must be some mistake! Collins thought. "But it's a different version of the song, and I'm not on it."
Some thirty years later, Collins bought the home of Formula One driver Jackie Stewart, a close friend of Harrison. Stewart mentioned to Collins that Harrison was remixing "All Things Must Pass" for a rerelease.
"And he said, 'You were on it, weren't you?' And I said, 'Well I was there,"' Collins recalled.
George Harrison Animated Album Cover GIF by uDiscoverMusic - Find & Share on GIPHYGiphy
Two days later, a tape was delivered from Harrison to Collins with a note that read: "Could this be you?" Collins continued: "I rush off and listen to it, and straight away I recognize it." It was a recording of "The Art of Dying."
"Suddenly the congas come in – too loud and just awful," Collins was devastated, then as the end of the take, Harrison can be heard saying, "Hey, Phil, can we try another without the conga player?"
Collins was devastated, to say the least.
A while later, Stewart calls Collins and puts Harrison on the line. "'Did you get the tape?' Harrison asked. "I now realize I was fired by a Beatle," Collins sighed. The two changed the subject, but a few minutes later, Harrison couldn't stop laughing.
"Don't worry, it was a piss-take. I got Ray Cooper to play really badly and we dubbed it on," Harrison admitted. "Thought you'd like it!" So, Harrison had an entire recording session with a conga player who he asked to play poorly, just to pull one over on Collins.
The Beatles Smile GIF - Find & Share on GIPHYGiphy
If you're in the mood for another of rock's greatest pranks. The story of "The Ring" told by Beastie Boys' Adam "Ad-Rock" Horovitz shared in "Beastie Boys Story" is another great example of someone going to incredible lengths just for a laugh.
The story revolves around the late Beasties' rapper Adam "MCA" Yach, his bandmate Horovitz, and a very creepy ring given to him by a fan backstage at a concert.
Conan O'Brien and Jack White discuss "Seven Nation Army."
There has to be something surreal about writing a song that has become one of the most recognizable on the planet. Since its release 20 years ago, the hypnotic thump of The White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army” has become synonymous with sporting events, and its 7-note bassline is one of the most popular musical phrases in rock history.
The funny thing is that Jack White had no idea the song would even be a hit when he wrote it.
White shared the story of the song’s creation with Conan O’Brien on his “Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend” podcast. The subject came up after O’Brien told the story of going to a Dodger game with White, and the song was played over the PA system.
Jack White Didn't Know "Seven Nation Army" Would Become An Anthem | Conan O'Brien Needs A Friend
White enjoys that the song has transcended his career and is no longer his own.
“It’s not mine anymore; it becomes folk music when things like that happen. The more people don’t know where it came from, the happier I am. You know, the more ubiquitous it becomes,” White said. “I’m sure many people chanting the melody have no idea what the song is or where it came from or whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s amazing.”
White also noted that he never anticipated the song would be a hit, adding that his label was initially reluctant to release it as a single.
“Other things we were working on, we thought were way more interesting,” he admitted. “No one ever knows; the label didn’t want to release it as a single. It just shows, even when you’ve got it right in front of your face, you still don’t know because you don’t know what’s going to connect with other people.”
The White Stripes - Seven Nation Army (Official Music Video)
Watch the official music video for "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes, directed by Alex & MartinListen to The White Stripes: https://TheWhiteStripes.ln...
Fifty years ago, when Paul McCartney announced he had left the Beatles, the news dashed the hopes of millions of fans, while fueling false reunion rumors that persisted well into the new decade.
In a press release on April 10, 1970 for his first solo album, "McCartney," he leaked his intention to leave. In doing so, he shocked his three bandmates.
The Beatles had symbolized the great communal spirit of the era. How could they possibly come apart?
Few at the time were aware of the underlying fissures. The power struggles in the group had been mounting at least since their manager, Brian Epstein, died in August of 1967.
'Paul Quits the Beatles'
Was McCartney's "announcement" official? His album appeared on April 17, and its press packet included a mock interview. In it, McCartney is asked, "Are you planning a new album or single with the Beatles?"
But he didn't say whether the separation might prove permanent. The Daily Mirror nonetheless framed its headline conclusively: "Paul Quits the Beatles."
The others worried this could hurt sales and sent Ringo as a peacemaker to McCartney's London home to talk him down from releasing his solo album ahead of the band's "Let It Be" album and film, which were slated to come out in May. Without any press present, McCartney shouted Ringo off his front stoop.
Lennon had kept quiet
Lennon, who had been active outside the band for months, felt particularly betrayed.
The previous September, soon after the band released "Abbey Road," he had asked his bandmates for a "divorce." But the others convinced him not to go public to prevent disrupting some delicate contract negotiations.
Still, Lennon's departure seemed imminent: He had played the Toronto Rock 'n' Roll Festival with his Plastic Ono Band in September 1969, and on Feb. 11, 1970, he performed a new solo track, "Instant Karma," on the popular British TV show "Top of the Pops." Yoko Ono sat behind him, knitting while blindfolded by a sanitary napkin.
In fact, Lennon behaved more and more like a solo artist, until McCartney countered with his own eponymous album. He wanted Apple to release this solo debut alongside the group's new album, "Let It Be," to dramatize the split.
By beating Lennon to the announcement, McCartney controlled the story and its timing, and undercut the other three's interest in keeping it under wraps as new product hit stores.
Ray Connolly, a reporter at the Daily Mail, knew Lennon well enough to ring him up for comment. When I interviewed Connolly in 2008, he told me about their conversation.
Lennon was dumbfounded and enraged by the news. He had let Connolly in on his secret about leaving the band at his Montreal Bed-In in December 1969, but asked him to keep it quiet. Now he lambasted Connolly for not leaking it sooner.
"Why didn't you write it when I told you in Canada at Christmas!" he exclaimed to Connolly, who reminded him that the conversation had been off the record. "You're the f–king journalist, Connolly, not me," snorted Lennon.
"We were all hurt [McCartney] didn't tell us what he was going to do," Lennon later told Rolling Stone. "Jesus Christ! He gets all the credit for it! I was a fool not to do what Paul did, which was use it to sell a record…"
It all falls apart
This public fracas had been bubbling under the band's cheery surface for years. Timing and sales concealed deeper arguments about creative control and the return to live touring.
In January 1969, the group had started a roots project tentatively titled "Get Back." It was supposed to be a back-to-the-basics recording without the artifice of studio trickery. But the whole venture was shelved as a new recording, "Abbey Road," took shape.
When "Get Back" was eventually revived, Lennon – behind McCartney's back – brought in American producer Phil Spector, best known for girl group hits like "Be My Baby," to salvage the project. But this album was supposed to be band only – not embroidered with added strings and voices – and McCartney fumed when Spector added a female choir to his song "The Long and Winding Road."
"Get Back" – which was renamed "Let it Be" – nonetheless moved forward. Spector mixed the album, and a cut of the feature film was readied for summer.
McCartney's announcement and release of his solo album effectively short-circuited the plan. By announcing the breakup, he launched his solo career in advance of "Let It Be," and nobody knew how it might disrupt the official Beatles' project.
Throughout the remainder of 1970, fans watched in disbelief as the "Let It Be" movie portrayed the hallowed Beatles circling musical doldrums, bickering about arrangements and killing time running through oldies. The film finished with an ironic triumph – the famous live set on the roof of their Apple headquarters during which the band played "Get Back," "Don't Let Me Down" and a joyous "One After 909."
The album, released on May 8, performed well and spawned two hit singles – the title track and "The Long and Winding Road" – but the group never recorded together again.
Their fans hoped against hope that four solo Beatles might someday find their way back to the thrills that had enchanted audiences for seven years. These rumors seemed most promising when McCartney joined Lennon for a Los Angeles recording session in 1974 with Stevie Wonder. But while they all played on one another's solo efforts, the four never played a session together again.
At the beginning of 1970, autumn's "Come Together"/"Something" single from "Abbey Road" still floated in the Billboard top 20; the "Let It Be" album and film helped extend fervor beyond what the papers reported. For a long time, the myth of the band endured on radio playlists and across several greatest hits compilations, but when John Lennon sang "The dream is over…" at the end of his own 1970 solo debut, "John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band," few grasped the lyrics' implacable truth.
Fans and critics chased every sliver of hope for the "next" Beatles, but few came close to recreating the band's magic. There were prospects – first bands like Three Dog Night, the Flaming Groovies, Big Star and the Raspberries; later, Cheap Trick, the Romantics and the Knack – but these groups only aimed at the same heights the Beatles had conquered, and none sported the range, songwriting ability or ineffable chemistry of the Liverpool quartet.
We've been living in the world without Beatles ever since.
Tim Riley is Associate Professor and Graduate Program Director for Journalism, Emerson College