There's nothing sexier than four charismatic blokes soaking your body with their own sweat. Ryan Gosling naked? Katy Perry stripping? They both make my eyes want to puke themselves up in hot lava. All they want to see is men in wigs. All I ever want to behold is the climax of Queen cover bands, Queen Nation. Imagine yourself all tough and taking your woman to another one of her shows you want nothing to do with. Then, like that, it happens. With only a thin layer of polyester separating your face from their genitals, it's impossible to remember that you were straight walking into the Ranch, in San Miguel of all places, and now have become fully gay and falling in love. I believe Queen Nation makes this their goal for every performance. It works like a homoerotic charm.
Forming in 2004, Queen Nation have set out to make sure the next generation of lost children know what timeless music Queen have created. Nation does this flawlessly. Joe Retta, who performs as Freddie Mercury, prances around stage and sings as if Freddie's ghost is haunting his vocal chords. He demands your eyes to follow his every move. He is no cheap imitation. None of the band is. Guitarist Mike McAnus mimes Brian May's solos effortlessly. He is a virtuoso in his own right. Pete Burke and Parker Combs reincarnate Queen's rhythm sextion. Roger Taylor or John Deacon could step in for either one of them and no one would be able to tell the difference. That's how incredible of a cover band they are! No one else has ever surrendered their entire existence to the rulers of Arena Rock as much as the Nation has and despite the size of the stage they perform on, the comparison of sound and quality is remarkable. Throughout their entertaining 90 minute set, featuring We Will Rock You, Fat Bottom Girls, Crazy lil Thing Called Love, they don't miss a note. They deliver on all levels. Even their improvisation adds to the authenticity of the show. You cannot help, but fall in love with them and the performance they put on.
I dare you to go to a Queen Nation show and try and resist their homoerotic charm. You will never want to leave. You will give up your abysmal marriage and pathetic job to join the band as a groupie. This is what happened to me when I saw them. Well, maybe it won't happen to you, or so you tell yourself, until you go to one of innumerable shows they put on each year and get showered in their sweat and start singing along to Another One Bites the Dust with only a thin layer of polyester separating your lips from their genitals. Then, what will you do? There's no stopping this love caboose. Go and ahead and try. I dare you.
http://www.queennation.com/
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