Happy Birthday, Freddie Mercury

It is rare in life that one comes across a true original. There is much greatness to be had, much inspiration in all its forms, but an original spirit is a rare thing indeed. Freddie Mercury was one. Nobody like him. Ever. Before or since. I miss him still.

Here is a clip of him, live, singing “Somebody to Love”. There is so much to comment on here: the beers lined up on the piano, the Superman T-shirt, how he fearlessly “warms up” the song in front of a live audience … trying it out, doodling, as it were, before he’s ready to go … It gives the performance a rough and jagged edge that is so refreshing in this day and age of overly-produced musical numbers where the point seem to be to eliminate the risks of live performance, the electricity of his body when he gets up – he’s one of those people who never moves aimlessly. Every gesture, every stance seems to come from the deepest and most motivated part of him. It is spontaneous, yet always specific. In that sense, he is like an animal. When an animal stretches or runs or pounces, there is nothing else in the animal’s mind, no other state of being the animal wishes for. Freddie Mercury is like that.

A ferocious performer, there was no other place he could possibly be than where he was at that particular moment in time. This is the definition of giving it all, but with him there was no strain in that giving, as with other performers who want to “give”, who reach out to us needily, grasping at our attention/sympathy/love. He gives because he had no choice. It was his only chance. He found his light, and he stayed in it. I took a seminar once with Kathy Bates and she said to us, with a casual tossing gesture of the hand, “The thing is, if you have a gift? You have to just give it away. Give it away, all day, every day. Just give it away.” The way she said it was great. It was not urgent or clenched, as in I have so much inside of me that I want to give, which can be creepy in the execution. It was casual. Look, I have this thing, gotta use it, here it is.

Freddie Mercury did that. It’s casual for him. Yet it must occur. He had a gift, so he just gave it away. All day, every day. He just gave it away. Whether or not you take it, I’m going to give it anyway. Because I have to. No other possible life for me.

He’s been gone for years, and the music landscape has still not recovered from the loss. That’s what it means to be an original. You leave a hole. You cannot be replaced.