You’ve heard it at Wembley. You’ve heard it at royal funerals. You’ve definitely heard it during the Olympics when a British athlete manages to snag a gold medal. But honestly, the national anthem of the UK is one of those things that most people think they know, yet they actually don’t. Not really.
It’s an odd piece of music. It doesn't have an official composer. There isn't even a single "authorized" version of the lyrics written down in an Act of Parliament. It just sort of... exists. It evolved. One day in 1745, people started singing it at the Drury Lane Theatre after a play, and it just never stopped being a thing.
It’s short. It’s arguably a bit gloomy. And depending on who you ask in a pub in Glasgow or a café in Cardiff, it’s either a proud symbol of continuity or an outdated relic that needs a serious remix.
The weirdly vague origins of God Save the King
Trying to find the person who actually wrote the national anthem of the UK is a bit of a nightmare for historians. It’s basically the 18th-century version of a viral TikTok sound where nobody remembers the original creator. Some people point to Henry Carey, but others argue it has roots in plainchant or even a keyboard piece by John Bull from the early 1600s.
The most famous "launch" happened in London, September 1745. The "Young Pretender," Charles Edward Stuart, had just defeated the army of King George II at the Battle of Prestonpans. The establishment in London was, naturally, terrified. To show support for the King, the leader of the band at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, arranged a performance of "God Save Our Noble King." It was an instant hit.
Within days, other theaters picked it up. It wasn't a national anthem yet because "national anthems" weren't really a concept people had back then. It was a loyalty song. A prayer set to a catchy, slow-march beat.
Is it actually the national anthem of the UK?
Here’s a fun fact to annoy your friends with: "God Save the King" (or Queen) is the national anthem by custom, not by law.
There is no legislation. The King hasn't signed a decree saying "this is the one." It’s the anthem because we all just agreed it was back in the 1700s and never bothered to change the paperwork. Because of this, the lyrics can actually change depending on who is sitting on the throne. When Queen Elizabeth II was reigning, it was "Queen" and "her." Now that King Charles III is in charge, we’ve swapped back to "King" and "him."
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It’s surprisingly adaptable. During the 19th century, there were dozens of extra verses floating around. Some were anti-Jacobite, some were about the industrial revolution, and some were just plain weird. Today, we usually only sing the first verse. If it’s a really big occasion, we might do the third. Almost nobody sings the second verse anymore because it’s a bit... aggressive. It talks about "scattering enemies" and "frustrating their knavish tricks." It’s not exactly the vibe for a modern diplomatic dinner.
The awkward tension in Scotland and Wales
If you go to a rugby match in Cardiff, you won’t hear the national anthem of the UK as the main event. You’ll hear "Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau" (Land of My Fathers). In Scotland, it’s usually "Flower of Scotland."
This creates a weird dynamic.
For many in the "Home Nations," God Save the King feels more like the "English" anthem than a truly British one. This is partly because England doesn’t have its own specific anthem. While Scotland and Wales have their own songs to belt out, England just uses the UK one. This has led to years of debate. Should England adopt "Jerusalem" or "Land of Hope and Glory" so that the UK anthem can be kept for truly "British" moments?
There was actually a controversial verse back in the day—thankfully long gone—that mentioned "crushing rebellious Scots." You can probably see why that didn't go down well in Edinburgh. Modern performances obviously leave that out, but the historical baggage remains. It’s a heavy song. It carries the weight of the British Empire, the World Wars, and the slow transition into a modern constitutional monarchy.
Why the tune is everywhere else, too
You might find yourself in another country, hear the tune, and start standing up, only to realize nobody else is looking at you. That’s because the melody of the national anthem of the UK is one of the most "borrowed" pieces of music in history.
- Liechtenstein: Their national anthem, "Oben am jungen Rhein," uses the exact same tune.
- USA: "My Country, 'Tis of Thee" is the same melody. Before "The Star-Spangled Banner" was officially adopted in 1931, this was one of the de facto anthems of America.
- Germany: The anthem of the German Empire from 1871 to 1918, "Heil dir im Siegerkranz," used the tune.
- Norway: Their Royal Anthem, "Kongesangen," uses it.
It’s the ultimate "free-to-use" melody of the monarchist world. It’s simple, easy to harmonize, and has a rhythmic "oomph" that makes people feel solemn.
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The Sex Pistols and the "Anti-Anthem"
You can't talk about the national anthem of the UK without mentioning the 1977 Silver Jubilee. While the rest of the country was having tea parties for the Queen, the Sex Pistols released their own "God Save the Queen."
It wasn't a cover.
It was a blistering, angry punk rock middle finger to the establishment. The BBC banned it. It supposedly reached number one on the charts, though many believe the charts were rigged to keep it at number two so it wouldn't embarrass the Royals. This moment changed the song’s place in culture. It proved that the anthem wasn't just a dusty old hymn; it was a symbol that could be challenged, parodied, and used as a lightning rod for social frustration.
How to actually sing it (and when to stop)
If you find yourself at a formal event, there is a bit of etiquette involved.
First, you stand up. You don't have to sing if you don't want to, but standing is the standard mark of respect for the office of the Sovereign. If you're wearing a hat, take it off (unless you're in military uniform, in which case you salute).
Don't over-sing it. It’s not an opera. It’s a prayer. The tempo is usually quite slow—around 60 to 70 beats per minute—though some conductors speed it up if they think the crowd is getting bored.
Most people get stuck after the first four lines. Here is the standard first verse for the current era:
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God save our gracious King,
Long live our noble King,
God save the King!
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us,
God save the King!
Notice the rhyme scheme. It’s simple. It’s designed to be sung by thousands of people who might have had a few pints.
The Future: Will it ever change?
There is a growing movement to find a new national anthem of the UK. Some people find the current one a bit "dirge-like." They want something more uplifting, like "I Vow to Thee, My Country." Others argue that in a more secular age, a song that is essentially a prayer to God to protect a monarch feels out of step with a modern, multicultural Britain.
But the thing is, British people are obsessed with tradition. Even people who aren't particularly religious or monarchist often find themselves getting a bit misty-eyed when the brass band starts up at a Remembrance Sunday service. It’s the "Old Reliable" of songs.
Changing it would be a bureaucratic and cultural nightmare. Which song would you pick? If you pick an English-sounding one, you alienate the Scots. If you pick a modern pop song, it’ll be dated in ten years.
So, for now, "God Save the King" stays. It’s messy, its history is a bit murky, and it makes some people grumpy, but it’s undeniably the sound of the UK.
Actionable steps for the curious
If you want to dive deeper into the history or actually hear the variations, here is what you should do next:
- Listen to the "Ascension" version: Search for recordings of the anthem from the 2022 proclamation of King Charles III. The shift from "Queen" to "King" in a massive crowd is a haunting bit of living history.
- Check out Benjamin Britten’s arrangement: If you think the song is boring, listen to Britten’s version. It starts as a whisper and builds into a terrifying, crashing wall of sound that makes the hair on your neck stand up.
- Read the "Lost Verses": Look up the 18th-century lyrics in the British Library archives. You'll find verses about the "Marshall Wade" and the Jacobite rebellion that provide a much grittier context for why the song was written in the first place.
- Compare the Commonwealth versions: Check out how Canada or Australia use the song as a "Royal Anthem" alongside their own separate national anthems. It’s a great lesson in how the British legal influence still lingers globally.