George Michael: 1963 – 2016

Joe Holyoake pays tribute to a queer icon.

 


It could’ve been anything else. A pub perhaps, someone’s house, or even a Pret. But, no. He had to drive his car into a lurid yellow shop called Snappy Snaps.

For many, it’s become a bit of a punch line associated with George Michael. It may seem cruel to open up a tribute with this incident, but I’m sure even he saw the undeniably comic aspect of it. After all, he was always more than ready to poke fun at himself and his misdemeanours.

Just look at the interviews and the music video for ‘Outside’ released after his enforced coming-out when he was arrested in Beverley Hills for a committing a ‘lewd act’ in a public toilet. There aren’t many people who could’ve owned that cruel situation with as much dignity and warm humour as he did. If anything, it made people love him even more.

There are generations of us who have never known George Michael as one of the biggest popstars in the world. In the 80’s and 90’s, he was unfathomably huge, a dark and handsome Singing Greek, who transitioned from blindingly-white-clad dreamboat in Wham!, setting the template for modern boy-bands, to the smouldering singer-songwriter who shifted over 80m albums.

In the 2000’s, he kept a lower profile, but would keep intermittently popping up, an album here and there, a couple of brilliantly self-deprecating cameos on TV shows, the loveably brazen chutzpah he showed in using the audience of 750 million he had while performing at the London Olympics Closing Ceremony to promote a new single nobody had ever heard before.

It was also in this later period of his life that he embraced his standing as an important queer icon, despite having it initially thrust on him.

He was never apologetic about his sexuality, however uncomfortable his open relationships, cruising on the Heath and brutally honest desires made some people feel; the gutter tabloids especially.

What’s more, he donated thousands to HIV/AIDS charities, including all the royalties from his duet with Elton John, ‘Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me’.

And we haven’t really even got round to his music yet. He’s left behind a wonderfully varied body of music: from the sugary, infectious pop of Wham!; the Princely funk found on Faith, and I Want Your Sex (pt 1 & 2) especially; infinitely big, tear-jerking ballads; and of course, probably the best saxophone riff ever recorded.

Incidentally, he wrote ‘Careless Whisper’ at just 17, which just goes to show how musically gifted he was. His final release, Symphonica, a live album in which he performed some of his best-known hits and personal favourites with the backing of an orchestra, showed off the timeless quality to his instantly recognisable voice, which was soulful and lustful in equal measures. He deserves to stand imperiously alongside the Bowies, the Princes, the Cohens that we lost in 2016.

So, farewell George. We’ll forever listen without prejudice.

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