Freddie Mercury didn't start his career writing about "bicycles" or "killer queens." Long before the spandex and the stadium anthems, he was obsessed with something much grimier. If you go back to 1973, to the very first self-titled Queen album, you’ll find a track that sounds like a fever dream.
It’s called Great King Rat. Honestly, it’s one of the most misunderstood pieces of music in the entire Queen catalog.
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Most people think of early Queen as "Led Zeppelin with better hair," but this song is something else entirely. It’s a 5-minute-and-41-second descent into filth, religious skepticism, and a weirdly specific medical diagnosis. It’s heavy. It’s progressive. And frankly, it’s a bit gross.
The Mystery of the Man Born on the 21st of May
The lyrics start with a punch to the gut: "Great King Rat died today / Born on the twenty first of May."
Mercury paints a picture of a "dirty old man" who lived a life of total depravity. He was the "son of a whore," always wanted by the law, and—here is the detail that usually makes people double-take—he died of syphilis at age forty-four.
Why 44? Why syphilis?
Fans have spent decades trying to decode if this was a real person or a metaphor. Some think it’s a jab at the establishment. Others think Freddie was just reading too many Victorian penny dreadfuls.
Kinda weirdly, the dates actually match up to a specific timeline within the song's universe. If he died on May 21st at age 44, he would have been born in 1928. It’s a hyper-specific detail for a song that most critics at the time dismissed as "generic hard rock."
But it wasn't generic. Not even close.
Why the Production Almost Ruined Great King Rat
If you listen to the original 1973 mix, it sounds... thin.
The band famously recorded at Trident Studios during "down time." Basically, they were allowed in at 3:00 AM when nobody else was using the gear. You can almost hear the exhaustion in the takes.
The drums, played by Roger Taylor, have this weird, boxy quality that drove the band crazy. Brian May has gone on record multiple times saying they hated the production on that first record. They wanted it to sound massive, like the world was ending. Instead, it sounded like it was being played through a transistor radio in a wet basement.
This is why the 2024 "Queen I" remix was such a big deal for nerds like me.
They finally fixed the drum sound. They brought out the "galloping" bass line from John Deacon that provides the song's backbone. If you want to actually "get" Great King Rat, you’ve gotta listen to the 2024 version or the De Lane Lea demos.
The demo version is actually longer—over six minutes—and feels way more dangerous. It’s got this raw, unhinged energy that the "polished" studio version lost.
Religion, Sinners, and That Famous Bridge
There is a moment in the middle of the song where the heavy riffs drop away. It gets quiet. Freddie’s voice turns into a sort of eerie preacher:
"Don’t believe all you read in the Bible / You sinners get in line / Saints you leave far behind / Very soon you’re gonna be his disciple."
This was 1973. Rock stars didn’t usually tell people to stop believing the Bible in their third-ever track on a debut album.
It shows a side of Freddie Mercury that he eventually hid behind layers of camp and pop-sensibility. He was questioning things. He was looking at the "dirty" side of life—the rats, the disease, the hypocrisy of the "saints."
It’s the same brain that later gave us "Jesus" on the same album. He was fascinated by the tension between the divine and the disgusting.
The Guitar Work That Defined Brian May
We have to talk about the solo.
Great King Rat is arguably the first time we hear the "Red Special" guitar really scream. Brian May uses a wah-wah pedal here in a way he rarely did later in his career. It’s frantic. It’s jagged.
While most guitarists in '73 were trying to sound like Eric Clapton, Brian was trying to sound like a literal orchestra of angry bees. The stereo panning—where the guitar moves from your left ear to your right—was revolutionary for a debut.
He wasn't just playing notes; he was building a soundscape for this "King Rat" character to inhabit. It’s the sonic equivalent of a dark alleyway in 19th-century London.
Where Did Great King Rat Go?
If this song is so great, why don't they play it on the radio?
The truth is, Queen outgrew it. Fast.
By the time Sheer Heart Attack and A Night at the Opera rolled around, the band had found a more "sophisticated" way to be weird. Great King Rat was relegated to the early tour setlists.
The last time they played it in full was likely in May 1975 during the Japanese tour. After that, it vanished. Well, mostly.
In 1984, during the Works tour, they brought back a tiny snippet of it as a medley with "Stone Cold Crazy." It was a nod to the old-school fans, a brief moment of heavy metal nostalgia before they went back to playing "Radio Ga Ga."
There’s actually a rare recording from New Orleans in 1974 where you can hear how the crowd reacted to it. They didn't know what to do. It was too heavy for the pop fans and too strange for the Led Zeppelin fans.
It was perfectly Queen.
What Most People Get Wrong
The biggest misconception is that this is just a "fantasy" song.
Because Queen later did Highlander and songs about ogres, people lump Great King Rat in with the "Dungeons & Dragons" era of rock. But look at the lyrics again.
This isn't a fantasy. It’s a character study of a criminal. It’s urban. It’s gritty.
It’s more about the "rat" inside every person—the part that wants to swear, lie, and "put out the good and keep the bad." It’s an anti-hero anthem written by a guy who was still trying to figure out who he was on stage.
How to Actually Appreciate the Track
If you’re ready to give it a real listen, don't just put it on in the background while you're washing dishes.
- Find the 2024 Remaster: Seriously, the 1973 original is like looking at a masterpiece through a foggy window. The 2024 mix lets the bass breathe.
- Listen for the Cowbell: There’s a funky little cowbell in the chorus that feels totally out of place but somehow makes the whole thing swing. It’s the "self-aware" moment in an otherwise very serious song.
- Check out the BBC Sessions: The version they recorded for the BBC in December 1973 is arguably better than the album version. It’s tighter and the vocals are more aggressive.
- Read the lyrics along with the bridge: Notice how the tempo shifts. The song goes from a "marching" beat to a "waltz" and then back to a heavy rock riff. It’s a masterclass in songwriting structure.
Great King Rat might be "dated" to some, but it represents a moment in time when Queen was the heaviest, weirdest band in London. It’s the DNA of everything that came later. Without the "dirty old man" and his syphilis, we probably never would have gotten the "Scaramouche" and his "Fandango."
Next time you're diving into the deep cuts, give the King his due. Just maybe stay away from his birthday party.