Matt Richards

An absolutely fantastic book, covering not just this music idol of mine from way, way back, but also his early life and the AIDS epidemic. Queen were one of my go-to bands starting in the late 70's when I stayed up late for one of the midnight rock shows and saw the "Bohemian Rhapsody" video. I was hooked: Freddie Mercury was the most beautiful rock star I had seen, and his voice and piano playing were beyond measure.

This book is just as innovative in its approach to his life and music as he show more was. It begins with the modern theory (2016) on the rise of AIDS as an epidemic that begins around 1908 in the city of Leopoldville. Up to that time, any hunter who was bitten by an infected chimpanzee would have gotten the HIV virus but it would not have spread beyond his immediate village. By 1908, though, there is travel and commerce and ships and it spreads around the world.

Also covered in great detail, all at once and in one place (instead of bits spread around various magazines and interviews) is the early life of Frederic Bulsara. It includes his initiation into his community's Zoroastrian religious faith and his family's life in Zanzibar. How they lived, then how quickly they had to flee was much more detailed and involved than anything I had known.

Like a recent autobiography by Charles Spencer, the authors also delve into boarding school and the impact it probably had on the rest of his life. Freddie was shipped to his boarding school in India from Zanzibar at the age of 8, and the impact of boarding school that is felt among the generations of British upper classes is becoming more documented. However, he also joined his first bands at school, and there are some pictures from those early musical days.

Also well detailed are Freddie's early years when he arrives in London, his choice of art school, and the ways in which the bands he was in and Smile (Roger Taylor's and Brian May's band) merged and coalesced and finally formed into Queen. But there were several years of the early band years that transpired, and the tours and locations are again very well documented. And in one place.

His years with Queen, his rise to stardom, and his grasping at love are also part of this book as one would expect. Those years include the tours and albums and the press they garner. Also covered are Freddie's times after Queen concerts when he went from one gay club or bathhouse to another, looking for a love that he only found with Mary Austin and Jim Hutton. There is the educated guess, based on performance and band schedule, as well as how HIV first affects its victims, that pinpoints the approximate time when Freddie probably acquired HIV/AIDS.

And yet, he kept touring and bringing music to so many people for so many years. He brought Live Aid to its collective feet, and even explored opera with the great Monserrat Caballé. His is a gift for songwriting, singing, and music that I am glad to have known during my lifetime. show less

I, of course, knew Queen—enjoyed their songs when I heard them—but I never really sought them out. Then one day, my husband asked if I’d ever seen their Live Aid performance of “Somebody to Love.” I said no. He showed me the video, and that was it—I fell down the rabbit hole.

Since then, I’ve watched countless Queen performances and concerts on YouTube, the Bohemian Rhapsody film, and several documentaries. I became completely fascinated by Freddie Mercury—not just as a show more performer, but as a person. He was a man of incredible talent, charisma, and complexity, and I wanted to know more about the life behind the legend.

That led me to Somebody to Love: The Life, Death and Legacy of Freddie Mercury—and I’m so glad I picked it up. The book is beautifully written, thoroughly researched, and deeply respectful. It doesn’t just recount Freddie’s life and rise to fame with Queen, but also explores the cultural and emotional weight of the time he lived in, particularly the AIDS crisis. It’s powerful, personal, and profoundly moving.

As I read, whenever a Queen song I didn’t recognize was mentioned, I’d pause and play it on Spotify—sometimes more than once. It turned reading into a fully immersive experience. I wasn't just learning about Freddie—I was hearing him, feeling his artistry, and connecting the dots between his story and his songs.

This whole journey has been a fantastic experience for me. Whether you’re a lifelong fan or just starting to truly discover Queen and Freddie Mercury, this book is a must-read. It deepened my appreciation for one of music’s most brilliant and unforgettable artists. show less

I am going to get 'Did the author know Freddie Mercury personally?' tattooed on my brain, and save myself a lot of heartache and expense. Despite the poignant introduction - 'In the music room, a grand piano rests on the wooden floor, upon it the silver photo frames displaying images from a life unseen by so many. The fallboard is down' - and some interesting (if imported) chapters on AIDS, this biography follows the same murky route as previous attempts to capture Freddie Mercury's life show more story (perhaps because the authors rely heavily on the work of others): Zanzibar, Queen, gay, sex, gay sex, AIDS, death. Why so many writers are keen to reduce the amazing talent and achievements of a truly complex individual into 'he had sex with men and died of AIDS', I just can't fathom.

For any readers interested in learning more about Freddie and Queen but who haven't read the biographies by Mark Blake, Laura Jackson and Lesley-Ann Jones (the Terrible Trio), Richards and Longthorne have helpfully cribbed from all three and repackaged the tabloid gossip and bitterness into one compact, pseudo-scientific study. Although not as salacious as Jones, and without Blake's axe to grind, Somebody to Love still makes the same old claims (Barbara Valentin's alleged 'kiss and tell' in LAJ's biography does not make Freddie bisexual, sorry) , while adding some spurious observations of their own, including pinpointing almost the exact date of Freddie becoming infected with HIV (how the hell would they know?) and linking him to Gaetan Dugas. The authors are so keen to link everything - EVERYTHING - in Freddie's life story to the cause of his death, they also throw in random statements like 'Several inches below the leather armband was a purplish bruise that might have been Kaposi's Sarcoma'. At Live Aid, in 1985? Might the 'purplish bruise' also have been a purplish bruise, perhaps from said armband pinching his skin, guys? Oh, and apparently there's evidence of Freddie dyeing his hair at Live Aid too, although Peter Freestone and Jim Hutton have both said he didn't.

Anyway! If you can't be bothered reading every source ever on Freddie - including some credible memoirs from people who actually knew him, including Peter Freestone and Peter Hince - and want to learn more about AIDS without reading Randy Shilts' critically acclaimed and ground-breaking And the Band Played On (which the authors dismiss as 'melodramatic'), then this biography is at least palatable, unlike the same by Blake and Jones. Just take every claim with a pinch of salt. There are some lovely quotes by people who knew Freddie - 'He was full of enthusiasm - long, black flowing hair and this great dandy image' (Roger Taylor) - and AIDS angle is interesting, if morbid. But for a true picture of this amazing man, read the memoirs of the people who actually knew him. show less

This was a good—only good, and not great—overview not only of Freddie Mercury's life, but also the proliferation of the AIDS epidemic throughout the world.

Some first impressions...

Wow, Freddie Mercury has been gone for almost thirty years? Honestly, if I had been pressed to give an immediate, don't-think-about-it answer, I would have guessed no more than ten or twelve. Hard to believe.

I kept reading about how Freddie wanted to keep his homosexuality secret, and I kept thinking, why? Then show more I'd remember the place I was working at, and when AIDS became a thing, my boss at the time throwing out the joke, "What does AIDS stand for?" And, of course, the answer was, "Adios, Infected Dick Sucker"... So, yeah, gays obviously weren't afforded much respect back then, obviously, because I do remember that sort of feeling as prevalent. And I live in a more progressive, accepting country.

At the same time, it feels like I always knew Freddie was gay, just as I always knew Elton was. I'm wrong, I know that. But still, it seems weird. Different times.

As for the book, nothing really surprising here, much of what's talked about is elements of Mercury's life in and out of Queen that has been discussed (or twisted about in the movie), before. While I did learn more about how HIV and AIDS developed than I'd previously been aware of, sadly, I already knew how Reagan and Thatcher rarely lifted a finger due to the misconception that this was strictly a "gay plague".

I think the biggest downfall of this book is how Richards chose to deliver the information. He'd mention some fact, for example, his change of relationship with Mary Austin from girlfriend to friend, then carry on with the narrative, then in the next chapter, talk about their current girlfriend/boyfriend relationship again, and cover off how it changed. Or he'd discuss the release of a single, then back up to recording the album, then discuss the release of that single in the next chapter.

It made for a somewhat schizophrenic and oddly repetitive read at times.

He also briefly mentions Mercury working with Billy Squier for a couple of songs on his Enough is Enough album in 1986, but there's literally no mention of his appearance on Squier's 1982 and 1984 albums. Sure, it's not a big thing, but it makes me wonder what other things were left out.

While I'd be interested in discovering more about one of the supreme rock musicians of my generation, I doubt I'll ever pick up another book written by Matt Richards. show less