I was growing up listening to Queen. Freddie Mercury threw those

Gary Cherone, the fiery frontman of rock, once revealed the foundation of his inspiration with these words: “I was growing up listening to Queen. Freddie Mercury threw those incredible melodies into his songs.” In this confession lies more than the memory of youth—it is the recognition of how genius, once unleashed, shapes generations. He speaks of Freddie Mercury, the master of voice and performance, whose music was not built upon mere notes, but upon melodies so vivid, so daring, that they seemed hurled into the world with reckless brilliance, forever altering the soundscape of rock.

To say that Mercury “threw those incredible melodies” is to capture the energy of creation itself. For Freddie did not compose timidly, nor cautiously. He embodied abandon, boldness, the willingness to risk the strange in pursuit of the sublime. His songs—whether the operatic grandeur of Bohemian Rhapsody or the stadium thunder of We Will Rock You—were infused with melodies that could pierce the heart, lift the spirit, and stir the crowd into one voice. They were not crafted with hesitation, but cast forth like lightning bolts from a storm.

Cherone’s words also remind us that every artist is first a listener, every creator first a disciple. Growing up listening is the seedbed from which greatness grows. The music of Queen became for him a teacher, shaping his sense of melody, drama, and stagecraft. This is the way of art: one generation throws the flame, and the next catches it, carrying it forward into new songs, new stories, new triumphs. Just as Mercury was shaped by opera, gospel, and rock before him, so did Cherone find himself shaped by Mercury’s fearless gift.

History shows this pattern time and again. Beethoven, though original beyond measure, was first a student of Mozart and Haydn. Picasso was formed by the brushstrokes of masters before he shattered tradition with Cubism. In every age, those who dare to create are first moved by those who came before. Cherone’s reverence for Mercury is thus more than praise—it is testimony to the eternal chain of influence that binds artist to artist, generation to generation.

Yet in his words, there is also something more: awe. For not every musician leaves behind “incredible melodies.” Some play, some entertain, some even dazzle—but few etch their music into the soul of humanity. Freddie Mercury was such a one. His voice soared like a comet, his melodies blended the epic with the intimate, and his presence on stage transformed songs into myth. This is why Cherone recalls him not as a singer alone, but as a force of nature who threw greatness into the world.

The lesson is clear: dare to throw your melodies. Whatever your field, whatever your gift, do not hide it behind fear or timidity. Cast it boldly into the world, as Mercury did. Your melody may be a song, a work of art, an invention, or even an act of kindness—but if it is given with courage, it will endure. Those who come after you may one day say of you, as Cherone said of Mercury, that you changed the course of their own journey by daring to share what burned within you.

So, O children of tomorrow, remember the wisdom hidden in these words. Listen deeply to those who came before you. Let their melodies shape your soul. But when your time comes, do not merely repeat their notes—add your own, daring and true. For history remembers not only those who preserved, but those who threw their gifts into the world without fear, transforming sound into legacy.

Thus remember always: to listen is to receive, but to create is to give. Cherone listened, Mercury gave, and the world was changed. In the same way, take what you have been given, and cast it forth with all the passion of your heart. For only then will your melody join the eternal symphony of human greatness.