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Ladies and gents! Every month, I’ll be venturing into new releases, jotting my first reactions, and sharing them with you. Some may be from artists I’m familiar with. Others, from artists I’ve just discovered! Maybe I’ll dig up older releases that are new to me. Whatever the music, I can’t wait to listen and share how it all hits me like a snare in the chest. Join me in my inaugural episode of this new series; featuring new releases from three of my favorite artists — and a little something extra.

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).

One of my favorites on Queen's debut, "The Night Comes Down" is Brian's glittery and somber acoustic-driven ballad. It's a standout in their entire catalog; and not just because it's the only De Lane Lea demo to make it onto their debut (it's also the oldest Queen recording on any official release). Its notably subdued and softer sound provides the perfect moment to compare every version (Queen, Queen I, Sessions, De Lane Lea disc). It's a gem of a song that shines differently in each mix.

When it comes to capturing every facet of Queen on their '73 debut, there is no better example than "Liar". Its powerful tension and controlled chaos are expertly expressed through a dynamic lead vocal, intensely layered guitars, a colorful percussion performance and a commanding bass; not to mention impactful backing vocals. Breaking down every version (Queen, Queen I, De Lane Lea, Sessions, BBC), I was surprised to discover just how varied the character of each performance is; and which version I ended up preferring.

I'm kicking off my new micro-series by visiting Robyn's fantastic "Honey"; a song that deserved a special spot on my Chillout list and one I've listened to so much, it might as well be an anthem. It sounds like it feels, and feels like it breathes. It simultaneously takes you places and holds you tight. It's a magical track that only came to be after years of reworks and revisions. And it was totally worth it. Whether you dig the original album cut, the demo version, any of the remixes, or a live performance.. it's a gorgeous and incredibly, sensually human song.

When was the last time you allowed yourself to be yourself; and gave it away? I had a moment at my recent hair refresh appointment that both terrified and lifted me. And it gave me a new perspective on my previous podcast episode (which I'd contemplated deleting or editing).