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There were times later in Queen’s career, as they crafted relentless hits ranging from disco to cabaret to whatever Flash was, when it was difficult to remember they’d begun as a heavy, genuinely ablaze rock band. Their 1973 debut album bore trademarks of its time – dynamics influenced by Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple, lyrics tapping into the swords-and-sorcery areas of prog – but bristled with freshness and invention. They were hungry, and every track was honed for maximum cheap thrills.
Given the recent passing of producer Roy Thomas Baker, it’d be unforgivable not to eulogise his part in this. His ramping up of every climb and descent, every leap and swoop taken by four fine players, was key to how Queen inhabited their noise, how they grasped the horsepower they were working with. Even at this point the singer and guitarist didn’t need much encouragement to show off, and the rhythm section were shrewd enough to travel with them while ensuring they didn’t topple the songs’ strengths.
In another universe, Queen kept on mining this seam forever, with diminishing returns. Of course, they developed other ideas, bringing them fame and fortune and everything that goes with it. The fact remains that Queen 1 (as it’s now titled) is ridiculously full of itself, in the best way. From the eager rush of Keep Yourself Alive, through the theatrical surge of Great King Rat to the disclosure of hidden weapons of The Night Comes Down, the album doesn’t get complacent for a second.
It’s the astonishing, histrionic Liar that tears the roof off, as Mercury prowls like a panther, Taylor has ferocious fun and May ekes as much excitement from an electric guitar as anyone in any genre before or since. (Mad The Swine, benched back then, was added to the tracklist on last year’s box set reboot, and it’s gauchely well-mannered.)
For audiophiles who like every surface spick and span, this immersive Dolby Atmos release pans the parts around the room individually, drawing attention to the intense, unique layering of voices and instruments – and use of space - that Queen and Baker crafted.
That post-pause guitar re-entry on Liar at 5.39? Phwooar. But an album either has it or doesn’t, and Queen 1 has it. They were flying. Play it on even a crappy old cassette deck today and it’d knock out the neighbours. It’s one of the most cocky, action-packed albums of its era.
