Queen Deeper Dive: Now where is the microphone… 👀 / “Procession”

Haunting and longing emotions dominate Brian’s “White Queen (As It Began)”; and my Deeper Dive reveals alternate lyrics and title considerations that suggest an even darker presence. The stripped demo emphasizes fully-realized verses, the BBC take rocks out, and the broader 2026 mix contrasts with the warmth of the original. This has always been one of my favorites from Brian, and I love it on a stage. But even I was surprised which version impressed me most…

Brian’s brilliant “Father to Son” officially kicks off Queen II with sparkles and thoughtfulness, but it isn’t long until floating harmonies and edgy dirt take over. I indulged in my deep(er) explorations of this song; my favorite from the band. Some elements came to life in the 2026 mix, while dynamics dominated in the original. The Sessions take goes beyond entertaining banter to give us cheeky irritation! And every version highlights the boys’ innate ability to lift a rock song into something almost transcendent.

My Queen II boxset finally arrived, and I’m beyond jazzed to kick off my next adventure of Queen Deeper Dives! I’ve been digging deep into every version of every album track. Brian’s genius opener intrigues with intensity and intention that’s both classical and rock, edgy and ethereal. With layers (and layers) of guitars, the hum of Queen II shifts into brightness in the 2026 remix. BONUS: the Sessions take reveals a simple but effective trick that blew my mind… 🤯

As I (still) await the arrival of my Queen II Collector’s boxset, I’m continuing my new series with an episode all about how I do what I do! From seeded ideas (there are still many on my list) to episode notes to recording settings to publication to promos (color-coded for Queen talk), there are many steps in the process — and I do it all myself. If you’re curious, dive into the details with me…

No sugarcoating… I’m presently recovering from a concussion. And while I wait for my head to heal, I’m waiting for something else. I’ve yet to receive my order of the Queen II Collector’s Edition boxset. And in that waiting, I’ve rediscovered the magic of something long forgotten — delayed gratification and the anticipation of newness that results in cherished experiences. This was the perfect moment to kick off my new series: The Human Frequency.

In teasing style, we wrap Queen I with Freddie's magnificent tail out of a song. As brief as it is, every version (Queen, Queen I, Sessions) solidifies the band's 'but wait, there's more' energy. I also dig into my impressions of Queen I after diving through every track in detail — and why my opinion likely aligns with fans who've been following the band since day one. Hint: it has to do with frequency fog.

Freddie's contemplative account of the Prince of Peace may not be so surprising when you consider his early enthusiasm for fantasy, mythology, and the fight between good and evil. Though he'd later disown this, every version (Queen, Queen I, De Lane Lea, Sessions, Imperial College) carries its own intensity and color—and extended opportunities for Freddie to sing in gospel style, Rog to cymbal-shimmer, John to hold it down and Brian to showcase his lyrical solo playing.  

Brian's stomping exploration of human intention versus human capacity is one of Queen's best examples of dark and gritty, bluesy rock 'n' roll. It demands dirt and buzzing and harshness, and as we explore various versions of this song (Queen, Queen I, BBC, Sessions), we discover how sonic imperfections (and extended breakdowns) might be the ultimate amplifier for an ideal rock-out performance.

As I kick off my sixth season(!) of my podcast, I'm taking a break from Queen and music; and leaning into my life experience to offer you encouragement, ideas, and inspiration. It's been an interesting and bumpy journey. But I'm still here, so are you, and I can only hope the brightness persists as we do more than simply survive — we live.

Roger's first contribution to Queen blasts out of the gate and while it might be an intentional (or even subconscious) nod to another band, it stands on its own as a blazing statement of presence. Various versions (Queen, Queen I, Sessions Take, BBC Session 4) take us through the song's creation to an impressive performance that might take the cake as the ultimate best. This may be a lot of noise to some, but it feels deeper than that (to me).