As 2016 limps to its battered, crippled ending, I reflect on lots of emotions and its highs and lows…but mostly lows. Sadly, I keep coming back to how tired this year has made me. Tired of bad news, tired of dissention, tired of hatefulness, tired of being tired. And, more than anything, tired of celebrity deaths and having to put into words the sorrow that these losses have brought me by way of the memorials I’ve written throughout the last twelve months.
THE YEAR IN MUSIC: THE GIANTS WE LOST — IN MEMORIAM
There’s a poignant line The Who’s Pete Townshend begrudgingly delivers during an old rock documentary when reflecting on all the loss he’s had to deal with throughout his long and storied career. The genius songwriter, when broaching the subject simply states “All my friends are dead!” in disgust, referring to bandmate Keith Moon, close friend Jimi Hendrix, and so many others.
And, here I am, reeling in those sorrowful words and thinking the same. I’m already having to cope with the losses of David Bowie and Prince this year, two icons who helped make my life richer and spent plenty of time spinning on my turntable, but now I’m faced with the untimely loss of George Michael. Granted, these folks weren’t my “friends” per se, but, through those grooves pressed on vinyl and the personal companionship I garnered from their records, I felt a kinship with all these guys..and George was certainly no exception.
He was a young pop star who grew up before our eyes and, in my case along with us (he was only 53 at the time of his death on Christmas). Michael rose to fame as part of the duo Wham! with his childhood friend Andrew Ridgeley. As the duo racked up hit after hit around the globe, critics and naysayers were harsh. The 1983 video for the duo’s bubbly pop hit “Wake Me Up Before You Go Go” was fodder for those who opted to bash the pair. With George and Andrew sporting short shorts, neon gloves and blow-dried frosted locks while bopping along to the sugary sweet romp, it was hard to take these two seriously. But, underneath all the gloss, there was that voice. That soulful, rich, melodic, emotive voice. Michael, like many of his contemporaries of similar age, grew up listening to R&B in their native England. All of a sudden, in the mid 1980s, radio airwaves were jammed with the likes of Boy George, Annie Lennox, Paul Young and George who’d all obviously taken their vocal cues from Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin and Al Green before working those influences into the new wave/pop they’d concocted. It was hard to not recognize the vocal talents of these new singers along with so many others.
But George always stood out.
One of the few artists of his ilk who comfortably slid into urban, adult contemporary and pop radio playlists simultaneously, Michael’s appeal crossed racial barriers and was as strong with 15-year old girls (and boys) as it was with middle-aged listeners. “Careless Whisper,” with its sultry sax intro and its woeful lines, became an instant classic upon its release. “Everything She Wants” sounded like it had been lifted from the vaults of Motown Records. It wasn’t uncommon for me to hear, back in those days, shock and disbelief from unfamiliar listeners who’d heard the songs and never seen a picture of the handsome singer of Greek descent.
“That guy’s white??” some asked me after thinking otherwise from hearing his voice alone.
And then, after breaking from the clean-cut image and restraints of the duo, Michael embarked on a period that would make him a worldwide superstar: a solo career that was marked with a huge pile of hits. The period further proved his songwriting abilities while honing the fine instrument that his voice was still blossoming into. His 1987 debut solo album Faith would become one of the best-selling albums of all time. Featuring six massive hit singles and propelling him to a massive world tour as a solo artist, the world was Michael’s oyster and he took full advantage of it.
An MTV mainstay, it was hard to not hear George’s rich, warm voice on the radio or coming through TV speakers at that time. He became a fashion icon: his bomber jacket, aviator glasses, ripped, skin-tight jeans and white t-shirt became synonymous with his persona. He made facial stubble sexy and was as desirable to as many women as to men as his sexuality was always questioned and discussed.
Never satisfied to be known as simply a “pop” artist, George made strides to let the music do the talking. He did not have to solely rely on visuals and his pinup good looks to deliver his message. His follow up album, 1990’s Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 1, was a major milestone in his career. Opting to remove himself from music videos and from plastering his image on the record and the press surrounding it, Michael received some backlash. Most notably for his insistence to not appear in the video for “Freedom! ‘90,” another funky, soulful tune that is still one of his most beloved tracks. Choosing to instead to feature a slew of supermodels in the accompanying video, the promo clip for the song looked and felt more like a perfume commercial than a music video. But the song and the album it came from were heard with open ears and allowed listeners to conjure their own images. That was George’s intent — and it worked.
A career that was filled with its fair share of tawdry stories about casual sex in bathrooms, substances, controversy and lawsuits will be most remembered for all the music George Michael produced and created throughout his musical coming of age. A man who’d come from humble beginnings and had come to terms with his homosexuality and his acceptance of those who chose to stop supporting him as an artist for any given reason, George grew into a symbol of success for my generation. From boy band status to that of a well-respected and masterful vocalist and artist, George Michael provided the soundtrack for many of us who rose from geeky, awkward teenagers to introspective, thoughtful and well-rounded adults as we followed his lead.
His 1996 album Older, and the title track in particular, is my very favorite song and vocal display of Michael’s. As a longtime fan who has followed him and feverishly and collected his records since the very beginning, this song in particular was a crowning moment in my eyes that showed the progress he’d made in such a short period of time. Brooding, emotive, powerful, personal and reflective. That’s the George I was most proud of and I was happy to see and hear him reach those heights.
His undying love of music, both appreciating it and creating it, will always be evident. Thank you, George, for allowing us to grow up alongside you. A musical giant from my generation is gone and, yes, it feels like a friend has left us. Goodbye, George. We’ll see you at the edge of heaven…
This article appears in Dec 22-29, 2016.