SIX: The Musical (Studio Cast Recording)

Divorced, Beheaded, Died; Divorced, Beheaded, Survived

For five centuries in English history textbooks, the six ill-fated wives of King Henry VIII were reduced to an antiseptic, sing-song rhyme: “Divorced, beheaded, died; divorced, beheaded, survived.” They lingered as historical footnotes, ghostly victims on the executioner’s block, or failed political pawns discarded when they could not provide a male heir.

Then, in 2017, two Cambridge University undergraduates, Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss, handed these six women microphones in a cramped Edinburgh Fringe black box.

Shedding velvet farthingales and boned corsets for futuristic holographic vinyl skirts and combat boots, the queens reformed as a high-octane girl group. Released on Loudmouth Music, this SIX: The Musical studio cast album racked up hundreds of millions of streams, conquering London’s West End and Broadway to become one of the defining cultural phenomena of the twenty-first-century stage.

The Sovereign Battle Royale

The premise is delightfully subversive: the six former queens host a contest to crown their girl group’s lead singer, awarding the crown to whichever queen endured the most agonizing trauma at the hands of Henry VIII.

Catherine of Aragon kicks things off with the thunderous, Beyoncé-flavored “No Way,” refusing to meekly retreat to a convent. Anne Boleyn follows with the bubble-punk insolence of “Don’t Lose Ur Head,” snapping her chewing gum as she chuckles over being executed for flirtatious texts. Jane Seymour assumes an Adele-like gravity in “Heart of Stone,” offering unconditional devotion to a monstrous spouse.

Next, Anna of Cleves explodes in bass-heavy hip-hop swagger with “Get Down,” celebrating how being rejected for failing to match Hans Holbein’s portrait granted her independent royal wealth and a sprawling Richmond palace. Darkest of all is Katherine Howard’s “All You Wanna Do,” which wields Britney Spears bubblegum sparkle to expose a harrowing cycle of grooming and predatory abuse that began when she was barely thirteen.

Reclaiming Her-story

When the sole survivor, Catherine Parr, steps up to sing “I Don’t Need Your Love,” she blows the whistle on the entire contest.

Why should their historical existence remain tethered to the tyrant they happened to wed? One was a polyglot scholar; one fought for religious reformation; another penned the first English book published by a woman under her own name.

In the euphoric climactic anthems “Six” and “Megasix,” they rewrite their own destinies in an alternate musical universe where the King is cast off and the queens reign together. With infectious hooks and vocal virtuosity, they seize back the microphone—transforming History into their triumphant Her-story.