I always forget A Kind of Magic exists. Naturally, I don’t have a whole lot to say about it, and I’m not sure I ever will. This means it may be the only Queen album where there’s not a lot to talk about. This is all to its detriment, of course. No conversation starters implies little of the construct-breaching song structures and progressive, unpredictable genre manipulation. It’s pop. It’s almost all pop, soft rock, no other words necessary to describe songs so plain. I called The Works Queen’s most “eh” album, but like always, I forgot A Kind of Magic.

Not that I would go back on what I said there, mind you. It’d give me pause, but I’d come to the same conclusion that A Kind of Magic can’t be Queen’s most relatively average album, because it’s one of the few they did that simply isn’t good. By the same coin as The Works, however, it isn’t offensive. But it is somewhat depressing. Queen’s quality after the ’70s waxed and waned, and it is with A Kind of Magic where they entered into a consistent decline that would culminate in their worst album, The Miracle.

Queen were always a band that didn’t give a fuck about the pretensions of art, a unique personality trait which allowed them to avoid definitions of their work while still having the world in the palm of their hand. But through all the ups and downs, it almost never felt like the band didn’t care about their craft. The increasing amount of filler felt like the incidental decline in quality every artist inevitably goes through, because they still retained some amount of effort, some amount of inspiration with trying new things, even if they couldn’t always get them to work. A Kind of Magic is the Queen going from conqueror to hedonist as it idly sits atop its throne.

And it even feels hedonistic. Plasticine synthesizers are everywhere, glitter so flashy and production so soft and uniform that every note glides listlessly by. A surplus of platitudinal ballads that sound copied and pasted with bargain bin melodies. It’s fucking boring. This is the kind of ’80s plastic soul pop drivel your mom would listen to. It’s fucking Simply Red or some shit.

“But, Noah, what about “One Vision,” or “A Kind of Magic,” or “Who Wants to Live Forever,” or “Princes of the Universe?” Yes, it’s true. No Queen album goes without at least something worth keeping, but even beyond those they used to be fun, you know? The tracks accompanying the singles would still burst with some of rock’s most eccentric personalities, and now they’re filtered through the dullest pap possible. But sure, let’s talk about the 20% of the album that has some semblance of creativity or ambition.

Though, frankly, I was never big on “One Vision.” Yeah, your favorite bands all have those popular singles that just sound like another song to you, and this is one of mine. “One Vision” is… bizarre. I’ll give it that much. In fact I’m not even sure how it caught on being as strange as it is, distorted, backwards vocals, May’s catchy but frequently absent guitar hook, and drum production that sounds mechanical. Even this track can’t resist dipping into plastic synth soul past the halfway point. It’s not that catchy, it’s not that weird beyond how segmented the song’s (pop) parts are, and it’s not very well put together for that reason. But it has personality.

The title track is one of Taylor’s, and while it has everything in common compositionally and instrumentally with the album’s filler ballads, it differentiates itself by actually having a solid melody. To this day I’ve never forgotten Freddie’s opening lines to the song. That smooth resonance actually comes alive in the album’s production. The music video is a lot of fun too, if you haven’t seen it, featuring some animation in the style of the album’s cover art.

“Who Wants to Live Forever” is another damn ballad, but what’s this? It actually has pomp! A marvelous amount, as the band is backed by the Philharmonic Orchestra supplying string arrangements and additional percussion. Apply what I said about the production working for “A Kind of Magic” for this one, as well. The atmosphere is actually somewhat chilling, giving the synthesizers a specific purpose rather than a contemporary obligation. The melody is simple but washes over you in a Tears for Fears sort of way, making this track one worth keeping both for the music and for its character.

Lastly, we have Mercury’s “Princes of the Universe.” This is the band’s first mini-suite since “The Millionaire Waltz,” and it’s complete with the token faux-choir vocal overlays. Long overdue, and Freddie still knows how to write them. Even if it’s a little chaotic and the dynamics don’t contrast very well due to how condensed all of its different structures are into a very meager three and a half minutes. Mercury belting “gotta past the test” is the best moment on the entire album, and the siren synths and Taylor’s frantic drumming paired with jet engine keyboards send this track soaring. It’s the most “Queen” song on the album, and by no coincidence it’s the best song as well.

And there end my praises. I’ve covered for Queen’s lesser moments before by complimenting their spirit of adventure or sense of freedom, but the rest of the album doesn’t exemplify these traits. Thus, if you can get the above four songs without hearing A Kind of Magic in full you’ll have reaped the benefits of it. For the first time, this is a Queen album with no surprises outside of its singles. But the follow-up album would struggle to even have that much.