Roger Taylor

Poem 772 – Cyberbarn!

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It was only the size of a postage stamp,
a pixelated blur that came and went
with sound that didn’t match the picture,
but it was a kind of magic back then.

Transported to your Surrey garden,
six-hundred thousand strangers streamed
down phone lines crossing continents
into this tiny buffering barn.

We held our breath and squeezed into
that distant doorway, willed the image
to appear until its spluttering
sounds and colours burst to life.

In awe we cheered distorted sounds,
squinting to make you out across
the many miles that lay between us,
clapping, we hoped, in unison.

Could we be hyperlinked? Connected
through our screens? It seemed surreal.
But now HD, the wonder’s leeched
become mundane and yesterday.

I’ve been working on a painfully slow internet connection today. This reminded me of watching Roger Taylor’s record-breaking concert ‘Live at the Cyberbarn’ on dial up internet. How quickly things have changed!
(See: https://www.rogertaylor.info/facts-and-trivia/accolades/the-guinness-book-of-records/)
(25.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 468 – Side A

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I slip the vinyl from its paper sleeve,
carefully cradling it with my outstretched fingers,
holding it gently like a newborn babe.

Placing it tenderly, I dust it with a cloth
then brush the needle clean. This tactile ritual
just as important as the sound produced.

The customary crackle. ‘Hello old friend’, I smile.
The soundtrack of my youth plays on with only
the occasional interloper interrupting.

Have I reached the groove at record’s end
that leaves us turning on an endless loop,
or does the promise of a second side remain?

Working late today, listening to Roger Taylor’s ‘Outsider’ album. The record may be fairly new, but the voice is a long familiar travelling companion.
(28.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 15 – First Post-Lockdown Gig (Reprised)

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Waves of nostalgia crash
Upon that human sea
Gathered in one place to sing
Beating in unity
Arms outstretched as one reach out
Rock and roll god on view
‘Radio’, our one last cry,
‘Someone still loves you’

The final song of Roger Taylor’s set from yesterday’s gig was Radio Gaga, which he wrote. To stand in the crowd clapping the signature clap is an awesome thing, looking around seeing a see of people clapping as one. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to do this as part of the crowd at Wembley. As I did so, I found myself wondering if this will be the last time I do so with a member of the original band playing in front of me.

(23.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 14 – First Post-Lockdown Gig

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Queues ensnare the theatre
A human lassoo, snaking
Jostling for position with nervous interrogation
Is this the right one?
Reassurance offered with a shrug
I think so
Friendships of proximity initiated
Transitory, later abandoned
Once settled the lull
Nothing to do but wait
Disturbed only by the request
To check bags or Covid passes
(A disturbing novelty still)
Hidden beneath the quiet
Starting positions are taken
Twitchy, false starts repeated
Until (on your marks)
The doors (get set)
Open (go!)
Then the sprint
Eventually lights drop
Music fades
Hush
An expectant pause…

Written whilst in the queue to see Roger Taylor’s solo show at The Shepherds Bush Empire

(22.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021