Why We Shouldn’t “Fix” Freddie Mercury

Auto-Tune has been a fixture in modern music production for decades. Initially developed as a subtle corrective tool, it was later exploited to sculpt pitch-perfect performances out of less-than-perfect singers. In doing so, it reshaped the sound of pop music entirely. But what began as a studio trick has become a crutch – a way to turn almost anyone into a marketable singer, regardless of actual vocal ability. This trend has flooded the industry with polished but soulless performances, pushing genuinely talented artists to the margins if they don’t fit the image, the sound, or the sales pitch required by record labels.

Now, it seems, even the legends are not immune. The idea of “correcting” Freddie Mercury’s vocals is not only absurd but insulting. Mercury had one of the most dynamic, expressive, and powerful voices in rock history. His slight imperfections, breath control, and spontaneous flair were part of what made his performances so human – so electrifying. Smoothing over these elements with Auto-Tune strips away the very essence of what made his voice great. It turns art into product.

Auto-Tune in contemporary music already creates tracks that are virtually indistinguishable from one another: perfectly in tune, perfectly in time, perfectly lifeless. Applying that same treatment to recordings that were never meant to be “perfect” by today’s standards does more than revise the sonic texture – it rewrites history. It implies that Mercury’s natural performance wasn’t good enough, that it needs to be “fixed” to meet current norms of musical cleanliness. It disrespects the artist, the fans, and the original work.

There’s a difference between restoration and revisionism. Cleaning up tape hiss or restoring lost frequencies is one thing; reshaping a vocal with digital pitch correction is another entirely. This move reflects a troubling industry mindset – one that values algorithm-friendly perfection over emotional truth, history, and human nuance.

We must ask ourselves: when we start reworking the imperfections of the greats, what are we really preserving? The legacy – or the illusion of technical perfection? Freddie Mercury’s voice didn’t need fixing. Neither did the music. If anything needs correcting, it’s the assumption that flawless always means better.

FROM VOCALS TO TIMING

But it doesn’t stop with vocals… Alongside pitch correction, we’re now seeing the rise of beat correction applied to entire bands. This means adjusting the timing of every drum hit, every guitar strum, every bass note – locking them all to a strict digital grid. The natural ebb and flow of a performance, once guided by the feel and instinct of the musicians, is erased. The band no longer breathes together. It clicks like a machine.

This process is being applied to music that was never meant to be “on the grid.” Many classic songs subtly speed up or slow down as part of their emotional arc – this was a deliberate, human choice in most cases. It added intensity to a chorus, tension to a verse, or energy to a bridge. Now, it seems, even this natural timing is being flattened in the name of so-called technical perfection.

To “fix” the timing of a live performance is to strip away its humanity. It’s a kind of revisionism that erases the real-life interplay between musicians in a room, responding to each other in the moment. It removes the heartbeat of the music and replaces it with a metronome.

Freddie Mercury’s voice didn’t need Auto-Tune. Queen’s rhythm didn’t need quantising. The imperfections, the push and pull, the spontaneous magic – that’s what made their records timeless. These weren’t mistakes; they were expressions of feel, instinct, and artistry.

We are not preserving music by making it flawless. We’re sanitising it, airbrushing away its character. The industry must decide whether it wants to honour legacy or rewrite it. Because once we start fixing what was never broken, we lose the very soul of the music that moved generations.

It’s hard to comprehend why the remaining members of Queen would allow this to happen. Of all people, they would surely be the first to defend the brilliance of Freddie Mercury’s vocals – widely regarded as among the most powerful and expressive in rock history. His performances weren’t just technically stunning; they were emotionally rich, filled with nuance, personality, and a human depth that no algorithm can recreate. So why allow record companies to run his voice through a pitch correction filter, as though it were lacking?

Brian May, this is your moment to step in. You’ve always been a passionate guardian of Queen’s legacy, vocal in your admiration for Freddie’s extraordinary talent and fiercely protective of the band’s identity. If anyone has the influence to stop this, it’s you. The fans who’ve supported Queen for decades deserve to hear the music the way it was created – not rewritten to suit modern production trends.

Letting Auto-Tune and beat correction rewrite Freddie’s vocal and rhythmic legacy isn’t preservation – it’s revisionism. It risks scarring the Queen catalogue and dishonouring the very soul of what made the band unique. And if this goes unchallenged, it won’t stop with Queen. Other classic recordings will be next, victims of a process that can only be described as sonic vandalism.

This isn’t remastering – this is erasing. And it’s time someone said no.