Whatever percentage Sir Brian May is being paid on the current Queen + Adam Lambert tour, the amount should be doubled. Monday at the first of a two-night stand at a sold-out United Center, the band’s original guitarist carried the 130-minute concert, commanding the stage with a combination of virtuosic musicianship and nonchalant presence at odds with the surrounding spectacle.

To his credit, lead singer Lambert understood May’s significance in the moment. The flamboyant vocalist won the evening when it came to colorful garb but he ceded the limelight, runway and center platform to the 76-year-old legend. May willed Queen’s songs forward. In a possible nod to his second career as an astrophysicist, he appeared determined to propel the music to some distant universe — an ambition underscored by an intergalactic-themed sequence that found him perched on a hydraulic riser amid 16 illuminated planetary orbs.

Indeed, May’s clutter-free playing didn’t always seem of this Earth. Certainly not his trademark guitar tones — at once clean and distorted, choral and direct, lyrical and driven, smooth and crunchy, warm and sustained — or technical blend of finesse, power and economy. Nor his energy. He delivered not one but two extended solos, allowed his colleagues a healthy breather via an unaccompanied mini-set, and didn’t require the aid of a secondary guitarist.

His brilliant performances nearly made up for several odd decisions that caused unevenness and, past the show’s midpoint, a dip in momentum from which Queen and company never fully recovered. As for filling the void left by Freddie Mercury? Lambert succeeded by being himself, not a cheap copy of the original band leader, and by using spot-on pitch and superb control to his advantage.

Hard as it might be for older fans to believe, two generations have passed since Queen last toured with Mercury in 1986. The band’s final U.S. shows with the singer date back further, to summer 1982. Given the interval, many younger fans’ visual impressions of Mercury likely connect not to the actual person but to a facsimile in the form of Rami Malek, star of the hit 2018 biographical film “Bohemian Rhapsody.” The actor went to great lengths to replicate the moves Mercury executed during Queen’s appearance at Live Aid in 1985.

Six years later, Mercury would be dead at the age of 45, succumbing to complications from AIDS one day after publicly announcing he had the disease. The band went into hibernation, with the remaining members playing a few tribute/charity events, finishing a studio album (“Made in Heaven”) and pursuing solo projects. Bassist John Deacon retired in 1997 and never looked back.

May and drummer Roger Taylor reconvened in 2004, pairing with former Bad Company and Free vocalist Paul Rodgers to tour as Queen + Paul Rodgers. The collaboration largely proved a mismatch. My Tribune review of a lackluster March 2006 show at Allstate Arena noted: “Rodgers recurrently fell short, his bluesy pipes unable to consistently stretch notes above the music.”

Shortly after dissolving their partnership with Rodgers, May and Taylor performed with Lambert in 2009 on the season finale of “American Idol.” The event began a relationship that has lasted more than a decade — amazingly, longer than the entire time the original Queen spent gigging in North America — and spawned multiple tours. The present outing, which sees May and Taylor augmented by a keyboardist, bassist and percussionist with backing vocal abilities, might be the most audacious.

Pyrotechnic explosions, confetti cannons, pulsing strobes, ceiling-scraping lasers, mobile screens, film-studio lights, dry-ice fog, falling leaves, a disco ball, a wraparound projection curtain — no device was too extravagant. And it all paled in comparison to Lambert’s ostentatious outfits. Wearing an assortment of platform heels whose height nodded to Kiss’ iconic ‘70s designs, Lambert cycled through costumes adorned with capes, breastplates, leather, glitter, sequins, lavish necklaces and elbow-length gloves.

He took pleasure in the theatrical parade, and recognized the whimsy in much of the band’s material. Lambert amplified the glam quotient of “Killer Queen” by sitting in front of a vanity mirror prop and staring directly at a camera as he primped, perfumed and powdered his face while crooning the words. “Bicycle Race” found the dyed-blond singer straddling a motorcycle blinged out with blinding chrome and countless lights.

Introduced by May as “a gift from god,” Lambert said little and trained his focus on the songs. Fulfilling his declaration to celebrate Mercury, he refrained from employing histrionics and seldom oversang. Graced with a generous range and expressive register, Lambert sounded the most connected with his elders on grandiose ballads (“The Show Must Go On,” “Who Wants to Live Forever”) and bounding, midtempo numbers (“Somebody to Love,” “Don’t Stop Me Now”).

Occasionally, as on “Fat Bottomed Girls,” Lambert got caught in a middle ground between singing and reciting lyrics. A slowed and stripped-down “Tie Your Mother Down” also lacked requisite swagger and mischievousness. Akin to those in other classics — the newest song Queen and Lambert performed stemmed from 1991 — the slight changes conflicted with the versions ingrained in memories and enshrined in history. Which helps explain why nostalgia can be a difficult, double-edged exercise.

Enter Mercury, or at least projected live footage of him singing and holding court in front of a crowd ages ago. May resorted to that ill-advised virtual trick as he pushed himself through “Love of My Life” without his colleagues. Despite any good intentions, such actions reek of artifice and serve as glaring reminders of what (or who) is missing, and exactly why they’re impossible to replace or recreate.

Following May’s “duet” with Mercury, Queen struggled with pacing. Taylor reemerged for a brief drum solo that, strangely, led into the nimble “Under Pressure.” A couple songs later, the liberating vibes of “I Want to Break Free” still fresh, everyone except May apparently needed another rest. Rather than pick up on the guitarist’s electrifying passages and outer-space environs, Queen retreated by sending May and Lambert out for the acoustic “Is This the World We Created …?” As for the explosive portion of “Bohemian Rhapsody”? Tame, with Lambert failing to convey the defiance and desperation.

Not to worry. May rode to the rescue, again, with compact riffs and treble-drenched leads that echoed like thunder claps and flared like lightning strikes. A kind of magic? Perhaps.

Bob Gendron is a freelance critic.

Setlist from the United Center Oct. 30:

“Machines (or ‘Back to Humans’)” into ”Radio Ga Ga”

“Hammer to Fall”

“Another One Bites the Dust”

“I’m in Love with My Car”

“Bicycle Race”

“Fat Bottomed Girls”

“I Want It All”

“A Kind of Magic”

“Killer Queen”

“Don’t Stop Me Now”

“Somebody to Love”

“Love of My Life”

“’39″

“Under Pressure”

“Tie Your Mother Down”

“Crazy Little Thing Called Love”

“I Want to Break Free”

“Who Wants to Live Forever”

“Is This the World We Created …?”

“The Show Must Go On”

“Bohemian Rhapsody”

Encore

“We Will Rock You”

“Radio Ga Ga” (reprise)

“We Are the Champions”