This is the only track on the record credited entirely to Freddie.
It’s a perfect alignment of pompous boasting, references to Highlander, restless structure and and a scale of noise, rowdiness and absurdity that somehow make it work.
It’s precisely the sort of song only Queen could make, and only Queen could pull off.
Because they are.
If you want to someone to pull off arrogance on a universal scale. To lend authenticity to a song about impossible supremacy, Queen are your go to.
They nail it, every moment, every beat.
The blasting rock acappella intro is massive. The guitars start enormous, but start shrieking in pain (stolen from Gimme the prize, I think, but much thicker and heavier and bigger here) as soon as the stong starts. The first verse is this huge pounding mass of pride, with choral backing, monstrous synths and those huge, huge guitars.
It jumps to double time at will. Tears into weird little emotional breaks, that somehow still manage to end huge and throbbing and overwhelmingly confident.
The song tears through three and a half minutes, and goes absolutely off the wall at every possible moment. It repeats it’s motif, but in totally different contexts every time. There is a verse and chorus, but then a completely bafflingly over the top mid section.
And it all just ends in a wash of echoing vocals. Over before you’ve noticed.
The scale of it is ridiculous. Just a load of bellowing, belting and wailing. It’s one of the densest pieces of work we’ve seen. Packing one of the early Queen wandering structures into about half the time.
The whole band rip into it from the very first moment, and then just start throwing things into the pot before any idea ever settles. The horror choir appears only for a tiny patch of the first verse, the gentler backing harmonies only for a tiny piece of the middle section, trying to emotionally foil the pomposity but not actually managing to rein it in for more than two lines.
And that double time.
Again, the wailing and ripping and anguished guitars bring so much to the table. Just a huge sense of drama and awe. That Freddie finds a way to bottle that into his vocal his testament to his utter certainty. It’s perfect.
The production is ridiculous. Ripping whole elements out to just let a single part (usually Freddie’s voice) stand alone for seconds at a time before laying back into the back channel with all of the noise available. It’s thick and heavy and over the top in every direction, except when it wants to leave a simple element to stand alone, when it does. But never for long.
Everything here is big. Bigger than anything. Bigger than the universe.
Here we are. Born to be kings
We’re the princes of the universe.
And that’s the thing.
Only Queen could truly deserve that line. Their self aware theatre is the perfect home for that particular flavour of bold ridiculousness. Freddie can make you believe he’s immortal, even now. Maybe even more so now.
Because I don’t think this song is about the immortality of the Highlander characters. Not for a second. It’s about the immortality of music. Of passion. Of Freddie. Of rock.
It’s a huge obelisk of rock. A massive stone structure warning you to look on it’s works and despair.
We know where that leads, but the thing about a big wailing guitar is that it can sell the impossible. The thing about a big bellowing Freddie is that he can sell the impossible.
The thing about Queen is that they can sell the impossible.
And that’s why you get Queen to soundtrack your kitsch, brooding and dark film. Because they can take the edge of your silliness, warm it with their own, and then pitch it back to you as something somehow more solid than it ever was before.
And in the video, the whole band are inserted into the film, and Freddie actually squares off with a sword against Christopher Lambert.
And you know Freddie would win.
On the album, we’ve already heard the riposte to all this. Who wants to live forever, even if you sound like this.
It’s hard to believe though, with this ringing through, no matter how obvious the argument is.
Because as long as Freddie’s singing he sounds immortal. And maybe he is.
Wherever he is now, he’s still a prince.
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Queen: An Exploded Diagram is me having big and little thoughts about every Queen song in chronological order. If you want to support me, making it more financially viable and easier to explain to people at parties, please back my patreon.
Illustration by Emma.
Queen: An Exploded Diagram 