Art Photographer

It was the summer when Queen abdicated as the greatest live band in the world. Right up front, there I stood, the son of a Swedish preacher man, shooting the very last shots of The King of Rock pulling off his crown and taking his final leave of 120,000 screaming fans. Or maybe there were 200,000.

Queen’s last gig has gone down in history as one of their absolute finest.  

Although in that moment, no one, least of all myself, knew that it was in fact exactly that:

The last one.

And also, the greatest.

Queen’s last tour had been launched almost two months previously at the Råsunda football stadium in Stockholm.

But my first Queen concert was in 1984 at Wembley Arena. I still remember how my trouser legs flapped when I found myself in front of the huge bank of loudspeakers. The force of Queen’s music and energy of Freddie Mercury was so massive that it knocked me out - and I was a blessed.

I had already understood that religious experiences are by no means confined to within church walls. Music, too, had the capacity to penetrate the thin membrane separating the everyday from the eternal.

That night at Wembley, I got shots that were unbelievable. I think, that is, since they were stolen before I even had the chance to develop them.

In hindsight I view the theft as one of the best things that could have happened. It was now that I really became obsessed with taking more shots of this amazing band.

The rest of the story I have told in my book Queen - The Last Tour.