Mr Bad Guy (40th Anniversary)
Freddie Mercury
EMI
5 December 2025
It took him more than a decade after Queen‘s debut to go solo, but Freddie Mercury finally got it together in time for 1985’s Mr Bad Guy. The Game and Hot Space had flirted with gay undertones, but Brian May‘s resistance to queer pop meant that The Works returned to the hetero-rock from the 1970s. Mr. Bad Guy permitted Mercury to write for the clubs that allowed men of a particular disposition to showcase their true selves.
“Let’s turn it on,” he roars on the opening track, setting the tone for the remainder of the record. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Bad Guy works best when the singer embraces his inner swan and lets it out to dance. Take the bass-heavy “Foolin’ Around”, replete with a sultry, flirtatious vocal jump; or the bouncy “Man Made Paradise”, where Mercury apes two lovers mid-argument; or the reggae-tinted “My Love Is Dangerous”, a warning to any potential concubines of the blood and tears that will befall them if they invite him into their bedroom.
The record proved to be Mercury‘s first project outside of Queen, and his nerves are apparent. Brian May and Roger Taylor had both harboured side projects in the years before him. Power ballads “Made in Heaven” and “I Was Born to Love You” sound like band outtakes, and were duly re-recorded/improved upon by the band during the 1990s.
When it came to the guitar solos, such as the outro during “My Love Is Dangerous”, Mercury’s simple instruction seemed to be: “Be more like May and Deacon!” These teething problems were rectified for Barcelona, a soaring album painted with operatic inflections that was wholly different to the contemporary records Queen were putting out at the time.
“There Must Be More to Life Than This” was penned initially with Michael Jackson in mind, which begs the question of why Mercury didn’t simply ask another singer to duet with him. “Living on My Own” was superior: a jaunty, kitsch anthem complete with a suitably steamy chorus line. In 1993, “Living on My Own” was remixed, adding a softer focus to the vocal; sadly, Mercury was no longer around to celebrate his pop piece.
Clinical and derivative it may have been – the central hook on the title track is uncomfortably similar to Jona Lewie’s “You’ll Always Find Me in the Kitchen at Parties” – the songwriter was showing a growing confidence, exclaiming “I’m Mr Mercury” at one point. The figure who inhabited these worlds was a man capable of injecting pain as he was capable of receiving it. Rippling with soul imprints, “Your Kind of Lover” sounds like it was cut from a Nina Simone session. Mercury was bravely showing a side to himself he couldn’t have as part of a rock behemoth.
Closing out the record with the most staggering moment of introspection, the singer sang from the bottom of his gut on “Love Me Like There’s No Tomorrow”. Dense in execution and melody, the ballad showcased a lonely man realising his part in life was to play a “loser.” Searching for happiness, Mercury recognised that it stemmed from the present: “One more day together!”
Freddie Mercury was famously private, so any speculation about his health in 1985 is bound to be speculative. Yet, only the most cold-hearted couldn’t help but be moved by the sincerity committed to this record. Mr Bad Guy wasn’t brilliant, but it had shades of brilliance, and for queer pop, it was a step forward for both the artist and his listeners. Life robbed Mercury of the next stage of his journey, but this document was cohesive, even brave, work.
Eoghan Lyng
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