The thing about being young, for anyone, is that not only do you think you’re invincible, but you can also use that everlasting life to change the world. Then, suppose you add becoming a pop megastar at a very early age into the mix. In that case, it’s bound to end up in an intoxicating potion of a hedonistic saviour complex that soon becomes too rich to taste. It was the exact trap that George Michael fell into in his days of naivety and one that he was reticent to remember afterwards.
Of course, his debut solo album Faith made Michael an instant overnight success story after his departure from Wham!, rocketing the singer straight to the top of the charts around the world. Being only 24 years old at this point, he clearly still wasn’t fully accustomed to the workings of the world and the extent of the introspective lyrics on the album sometimes arguably pulled the curtain back too far on his personal life. However, for Michael himself, this style also later had other issues, such as how it was making too much of an effort.
In 2010, he reflected back on the album in an interview, considering powerful tracks like ‘Hand to Mouth’ by saying: “I think the song is quite nice. The lyric is pretty good for somebody of that age. It’s very anti-Thatcher. Some of my best lyrics are when I’ve dared to use metaphors. I like to be direct. I think that it says is that, even when I was in the middle of the firestorm, I was still very much looking out at the world.”
Even though he was still complimentary of his talent, Michael could still clearly see his shortcomings in having too rosy a view of his command over the world. He continued: “I was, ultimately, very tempted to be an activist in some form, but I knew that no one would really listen very hard to that. I suppose ‘Hand to Mouth’ is one of the tracks on the album where I’m trying to show off as a lyricist.”
This sense was admittedly pretty evident – with convoluted images surrounding vigilantes, the gods of America, and the pressures faced by the new generation to make something of themselves, he was clearly on a bit of a political crusade with the vision that his music could connect to and galvanise the masses.
However, as the years wore on and Michael matured to realise that changing the world maybe wasn’t in his wheelhouse, these words somewhat began to curdle in his mouth. He admitted: “I think maybe one of the reasons I find Faith — and Listen Without Prejudice— harder to listen to than anything after is that I can hear the effort. I can hear a front.”
His activism phase may have turned out to be a bit of a mirage, but at least Michael had the humility to admit it. We can all think of more than a few songs of the sort – emotionally laden messages with none of the actual substance to back them up, but thankfully, here, in the case of Faith, it didn’t seem to cheapen the effect of the record as a whole. Indeed, far from it. Although he might have cringed at the memory, this moment defined George Michael’s legacy more than any other.
