Freddie Mercury was gay, very gay. That’s not what this post is about, but I thought we might as well recognize that fact right out of the gate. We may end up circling around to it later on.
I love Queen. A few of their songs rank among my favorites; “One Vision” and “Another One Bites The Dust” are up there in the top fifty, and “Somebody to Love” has a nice penthouse view from the top twenty alongside Bach’s Toccata & Fugue in D minor and David Crowder Band’s “Only You.” I loved the song “Bohemian Rhapsody” when I first heard it, and got annoyed when Wayne’s World ruined it. But Freddie Mercury was Queen, and when he died so did the band, no matter how much Brian May and Adam Lambert would have you believe otherwise.
I remember finding out about his death in sophomore gym class. I never pondered the fact he died from AIDS and I didn’t know anyone who did; he was profoundly talented and I simply saw it as a loss. I enjoyed Freddie Mercury’s talent, and didn’t think much about his lifestyle. I felt the same way about Derrick Thomas.
Derrick Thomas was arguably the most talented player in Kansas City Chiefs history. He died in a car accident at the height of his career in 2000. To this day the stands at Arrowhead Stadium are filled with #58 jerseys on game day, and one adorns my chest on most Fridays during the season. He was a Hall of Fame linebacker, and I loved him for what he did on the field. I never knew he fathered seven children with five women. I’m not sure it would have changed my fan perception of him, so long as he continued strip sacking Broncos.
Another man I love who had a hard time honoring his family — as well as the law — was Johnny Cash. In the 1960s, Johnny Cash was famously addicted to the sex, drugs, and rock and roll lifestyle. He could rightly be characterized as the motto’s poster boy. He got the infidelity figured out eventually, and by all accounts was faithful to his second wife and even dedicated himself to Christ, but by then his best work was far behind him. My favorite Cash songs — “Boy Named Sue,” “Folsom Prison Blues,” “Walk the Line” — are what my wife and I fondly refer to as irreverent country music.
Is this a problem? Should I take into account an artist’s personal life before embracing their art? I certainly hope that’s not the case, because there is a shortage of perfect people in this world. You might be hard pressed to enjoy any form of entertainment if ideological and moral purity is the standard, because we all fall short.
Now, disclosure time.
I am a Christ follower, which is to say I am a Bible believing Christian. I spend a significant portion of my time ministering with Biblical principles toward the ultimate goal of leading as many people as possible to freedom in Jesus Christ. Freedom in Christ often conflicts with the lifestyle choices we embrace. When we choose things that God warns us against, we will experience heartache, emptiness, and eventually the dissolution of the things we most care about. It was true for Derrick Thomas, and for Johnny Cash, and this leads us back to Freddie Mercury.
Freddie Mercury led a dangerous, sexually promiscuous homosexual lifestyle that cost him his life. But I didn’t care about his sexual orientation any more than Johnny Cash’s or David Crowder’s. I enjoy his music for the same reason I enjoy theirs: Because it’s good.
Queen has made a resurgence lately due to Rami Malik’s award-winning portrayal of Mercury in the film Bohemian Rhapsody. A few days ago the Academy Awards featured the film in its Best Picture category. I’ve not seen it, but I did watch an Oscar performance by former Queen band members alongside Adam Lambert of a few Queen songs. Adam Lambert is a good singer, but his voice and his stage presence is nothing like Mercury’s and even he admits struggling singing them. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear him honor Mercury’s legacy with humility. But of all the talent available for lead vocals in their current engagements, why did former Queen members wait so long and finally choose him? There is a very obvious reason: Adam Lambert is — like Freddy Mercury — famously and flamboyantly gay.
At the end of the Academy Award performance, a jumbo-tron image of Freddie Mercury hung above the stage in tribute. It seemed to me a fitting spectacle for a room full of individuals who collectively are much more concerned with ideology than art — the same people who rejected Kevin Hart as their host and practically disowned Kanye West for his choice of hat. I saw a room full of people with priorities opposite mine, clapping for Freddie Mercury for his lifestyle, and not for how he sang.