He's all right now: in his teens bassist Andy Fraser led the world-famous band Free and penned the '70s anthem "All Right Now." As a healthy, out HIV-positive 53-year-old he's better than ever.

Some of the best coming-out stories are the ones you don't see coming. As a teenager Andy Fraser wrote one of the cockiest air-guitar anthems of all time--Free's "All Right Now." In his role as bassist and main music writer for that classic '70s rock band, Fraser helped give Free its balls and its bluster. Fans and fellow musicians had no reason then to suspect he might be anything but straight.

But the title of Fraser's new solo album, Naked ... and Finally Free, hints there was always something more to this story.

With the release of his first solo album in 18 years, Fraser has decided to come clean about his life as a gay man in the rock world, which is still resistant to the role; the discovery that he has AIDS; and the vortex of personal struggles that led him at one point to consider suicide.

The divorced father of two didn't admit to himself that he was gay until his mid 30s, and he is only now declaring it in public as a remarkably well-preserved man of 53. "I'm a late bloomer, that's for sure," he says with a laugh. "It took up to now to pluck up the nerve. I really couldn't imagine it before."

It's understandable given the milieu Fraser came from. Born in London, he broke into the big-time U.K. blues scene at the age of 15. In college Fraser met and began dating the daughter of the late Alexis Korner, a key figure in the development of English rock. After hearing Fraser's bass playing, Korner got him a steady gig with John Mayall, whose group, at different times, featured most major U.K musicians, including Eric Clapton and JeffBeck.

In 1967, Fraser started Free with three other young bucks, including singer Paul Rodgers (who went on to front the major '70s band Bad Company). Back then, Fraser says, he was "in total denial" about his sexuality, though he admits "it did exist in some compartment way back there. I never knew any gay people. I bought into the idea that it was wrong. And I was a good kid, so it couldn't apply to me."

He managed to bury his feelings by becoming "a workaholic like you wouldn't believe." While he became Free's self-appointed leader, Fraser was far more retiring when hordes of groupies started sniffing around. "With Free's image, as you can imagine, there were all these girls everywhere," Fraser says. "It's very difficult to deal with when you don't have these things clear in your own head."

Fraser met "a wonderful woman" and got married in his early 20s. The couple had two daughters, Hannah and Jasmine, now aged 27 and 31. But by his late 30s Fraser was having increasing trouble denying his identity. He had a couple of "encounters" with men, including one guy who, Fraser says, "wasn't in any sense the right guy. Yet I got this feeling, I'm home."

Around that time, Fraser's wife had become involved in Eastern meditation and was spending a lot of time studying in India. In one long-distance phone conversation Fraser was going over routine things about their daughters when he found himself suddenly slip in, "Oh, and by the way, I'm gay," he recalls. "She didn't seem to fully get the implications."

Aided by her study of meditation, Fraser's wife tried to live a life of abstinence, but a split was inevitable. Though he calls the divorce "as nonugly as it could be," the aftermath left him in despair and still in deep conflict about his identity. "Just approaching a gay bar put me in a cold sweat," he says.

About 15 years ago Fraser thought about ending it all. "When I realized I couldn't change it, there was nothing left to do but die," he says. "I even planned out the whole episode and got my affairs in order. But at just that point I stopped and asked myself, What would dying accomplish? Absolutely nothing. That brings you back to total humility, to starting again."

It was hardly the end of his problems: Soon Fraser had serious medical concerns. While he thought he was being careful in his sexual encounters and was tested regularly for HIV, he became lazy about the examinations. After a few years, he was told by a doctor that he had Kaposi's sarcoma. "You realize you crossed a line, and there's no going back," he says. But the realization helped him turn his life around. He became healthy in his diet and vigilant about working out.

During this period he was in a relationship with a man for seven years--longer than he wanted. "He was a loyal guy," Fraser says, "but not right for me."

About three years ago more trouble came: Crippling neck pain and fatigue. Fraser underwent neck surgery, to no avail. Doctors finally discovered it was caused by medication, incorrectly prescribed. Having dealt with years of gay shame and HIV panic greatly aided Fraser in overcoming his physical pain--and in persevering to this day. He could even laugh about rumors that surfaced recently on the Internet that he had died.

The musician remains philosophical about the long time he spent hating himself and living a straight life. "I wouldn't give up my daughters for anything," he says. "I couldn't ask for a more helpful, inspiring family."

Last June, Fraser found out he has more family than he knew. While his father left his mother when Andy was just a boy (the two remain bitterly estranged), his dad went on to have a second family. One of those sons, a half brother to Andy, recently tracked Fraser down through his Web site. The 35-year-old U.K. resident e-mailed Andy to tell him that he works in a related business, music concert film distribution. And "oh, yes, one other thing," Fraser recounts, "he said, 'I'm gay too.'"

Since Fraser now lives near Palm Springs, Calif., the two will meet for the first time this Thanksgiving Day. "I felt like I'd not only found a brother, but a real brother," Fraser says, adding, "It makes you think. Maybe there's some big planner up there who knows what he's doing after all."

Farber is chief pop music critic for the New York Daily News.