‘Anyway, the wind blows,
doesn’t matter to me….’
The lead singer for Queen was born with the name Farokh, but in his quest for release from the ties to his ethnicity, he opted for the more western ‘Freddie.’ Rami Malek’s representation in the movie had me falling in love with the ascription of the name Farokh. However, I am not Mary, so my opinion in that regard would not have been worth Paul Pretner’s moustache.
Rami’s embodiment of the on-screen character of Freddie displayed, in great intensities, something that was sparse in Freddie’s videos. So, to some extent, I guess it is true that the cover may sound better than the original because it is a technical attempt at perfecting the natural.
In the depth of my despair and whelm, I admit that Freddie’s videos are overflowing with genuine emotion, and the realness of his eccentricities is on display. But, perhaps, I fell further in love with the act because I first discovered Queen thanks to a Pentatonix cover of the evergreen ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’
The perspective provided through beatboxing and the aesthetics of the video created a standard that was an inch more finely tuned than the original. As a child of 21st-century entertainment, and a past believer in the sugary sweetness of pop, there was a pull off the aesthetic of Pentatonix’s rendition that made me feel ‘edgy’ enough to appreciate the music. Years later, and now I realise the foolery. I had fallen in love with the genius of Queen way before Pentatonix introduced me. Long before, I had thoughts of forced edginess and hardly-sources outlier tastes. Ella Enchanted’s rendition of ‘somebody to love’ and the Glee Club performance of the same song are hidden in my mind. In what feels like light years before I understood or embraced my appreciation for soulful music, I had encountered music that set my soul on fire -I was just painfully oblivious to the flame. And maybe Freddie understood it, and he did write that he was ‘caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.’
Bohemian Rhapsody, the 2018 movie, was the unlocking and release of a Pandora’s Box of senses and feelings that I had left in the attic of my mind. But unfortunately, when I started watching the movie, I couldn’t. There was an intense awareness that I was about to experience something beautifully surreal, and I knew, at that first glance, that my mind wasn’t ready to bear the weight, so I shut the lid. I have had moments like that, you see. Scenes that drew too much from the confines of my soul and left me gaping at the bleak harshness of reality. And I had learned, from those moments, the effort it took to restore my persona to what it was like in blissful ignorance. So, I took great care not to get pulled into the movie that first time. Unfortunately, however, I couldn’t watch it at all.
My next attempt was successful in more ways than one. But now, years after I watched it and years after I started this manuscript, my worldview has changed in more ways than one. April 2019 was the date stamp of the first time I touched this draft, it was April 2021 when I updated this, and too many things had happened to maintain a microscopic consistency in my global lens. It is now December 2021, days shy of the New Year that feels like a warning, 2022 or 2020-too?
Bohemian Rhapsody, the original song by Queen, brings a confluence of emotions to my mind whenever I listen to it. And the experience is the same whenever I remember lyrics from it. On several planes, the song gives me the liberty to define myself. First, it is fast-paced without losing emotional quality; then, it is slow-paced and still have you screaming along. As someone who despises labels, Bohemian Rhapsody is the closest representation I have found of the thoughts in my head.
Years have gone by since I watched Ella Enchanted and binged Glee. My body has changed in so many ways, and so have the thoughts in my mind. But just like this song, the pieces that make me who I am are just pieces when they’re separate. Together, I am a work of art. Imperfect to some, but beautiful to listening ears and seeing eyes.
I can’t claim to be the world’s greatest fan of Queen, nor can I claim to know all the beautiful music they have ever made. But that doesn’t matter. Bohemian Rhapsody calls out to something deep within my soul. Somewhere in the same regions as Nina Simone’s ‘Four Women’ and Ibeyi’s ‘Cleo Who Takes Care of You’. Music from worlds apart with years in-between their productions continuously makes me aware that there is much more to life and living than a linear perspective.
Have I found the best angle? No, and I doubt I ever will. But that doesn’t put a foot down on my exploration of music and journeying worldwide. From the comfort of lyrics, I have experienced ethereal narrations of life and moments, some of which I may never get the opportunity to witness first-hand. But I can acknowledge and appreciate the absence of a lack in my spirit. I am blessed to travel through beats and rhythm.
On the epic ‘Somebody to Love,’ Queen achingly sang ‘, got no fears, I got no rhythm. I keep losing my beat; I’m okay, I’m alright.
And I have realised that I am okay with being lost because I can always find someplace to have an identity. It doesn’t matter if it is finding the correlation between Musiliu Haruna Ishola’s ‘Akoko Olute Lorin Wa’ and Angelique Kidjo’s ‘Sango’ or realising that I don’t understand a word Joe Dassin’s ‘Et si tu n’existais pas,’. These experiences are mine to savour. So, I do.
Bohemian Rhapsody was the mist clearing off memories I’ve had for years, and here begins the conscious journey of my mind through lyrics and rhythms.
