22 January 2008

In Rememberance of a Tortured Soul

Honestly, this post could not have come on a worse day, even though I'm been trying to get it edited and stylized before now. But the world works in strange...and sometimes very tragic...ways. The few similarities made here now to another Aussie, actor Heath Ledger who has died today at the age of 28, are not lost on me. Sad, horrible news regardless of the 'hows' or 'whys' that will eventually be determined. It's a grievous loss for the friends, family, and fans he left behind. Prayers go those effected...and to everyone else who lost someone dear to them today.


Today is one of pause for me, as it makes me think of the loss of a fave entertainer of mine. A quiet, introspective, and peculiarly shy poet with a killer stage presence and talent in abundance. Today is not one to acknowledge his death (which, frankly, I've always found a bit morbid, even if one is an out of control Elvis fan, you know the types), but rather of his birth. I prefer to think of this day as a 'what a great deal was contributed', instead of 'what a great deal was lost when he died' kind of thing. I know I'm better to have been a fan of his, as his words and beliefs expanded my thinking and still influence me now.

He was tortured by demons that were self-made, but of such an intense nature that he could not extricate himself from...demons that, at the end, that would overwhelm him through his day to day. He was dogged by a variety of personal relationships, (most infamously his last one with a television celebrity), that became regular fodder for the newspapers and tabloids. He, at times, was distinctly uncomfortable 'being on display', yet he had chosen a very public life and career. And, being Australian, he had the additional pressure of knowing the thrasher was hot on his heels at any moment back home...because, of course, all tall poppies must be cut down. (Not to mention the other great Aussie celebrity past time of being in a very love/hate relationship status with the foreign press and photographers.) He died far too young, just when a new chapter of his creativity was to bloom. He left behind his last lover devastated, his friends and loved ones heartbroken, and his fans and colleagues angry and shocked. And he left behind a much-beloved and doted-upon daughter, who was just a toddler at his death.

His name was Michael Hutchence and he would have been 48 today.

Hutchence and the band he was the lead singer with, INXS, dovetails into one of those memories of a young adulthood now seemingly lost for me. You know those times when you look back at the favourite moments in your life, and find a 'soundtrack' (if you will) that can instantly call up those memories, no matter how distant and/or emotional? INXS always did (and still does) that for me. Indulge me a moment while I set the stage from where my devotion to this band began.

While the teens of the 1970s had a variety of heavy metal and guitar heroes to look up to admire, those of us in the 1980s yearned for (perhaps needed?) something different. We were the ones, after all, you really did want our MTV. (This, of course, was when MTV still new, still played music videos and still actually had relevant music-related interviews and the like, too.) It was a strange time to be a teen, as the optimism (and frankly some of it was just silly) in the music ran counter to the ever-changing political events we saw happen with the Reagan, Gorbachev, and Thatcher (among many other) administrations. In the face of the end of the Cold War and trickle down economics, those of us who came to age in the '80s, I think, wanted a little hope with our dancing, a little swagger with our sex (well, until the AIDS panic hit mainstream America), a little abandon with our rock n' roll, and maybe a little humility with our ballads. Some chose one genre or another, while some of us wanted a bit of it all. (At my high school, it was pretty much divided between the mainstream pop kids, the country-loving farm kids, and the Guitar Hero® wannabes in the heavy metal set. Those of us who even knew some of the lyrics from any Clash song was limited to about a dozen, sadly. And this was in 1988, for Pete's sake, so it's not like the Clash were an unknown band.)

I'm sure it has something to do with my age at the time and all, but it really felt like the world was expanding for everyone at that time, even if it was just a small measure. (And keep in mind I attended high school in a very small town, so expansion to the 'world' seemed a rather monumental and daunting possibility at the time.) I look back upon those times with embarrassment and dismay at some of my high school efforts (seriously, some of the fashions and hairstyles should never be resurrected), but I also look upon those times with pride and hope that some of things I did then...standing up for the things and people I believed in, whether it was 'cool' or not...made me a better person. And, consequently, helped make me the person that I am today. It was the last time I can really say I felt the need to devour the day's news and culture as much as I could, as quickly as I could. There was an urgency to grow and to become a different, and better, person. (This was...gasp...before the internet, after all.) Somewhere in there my love for global news got ignited, somewhere in there my fascination with all musical things British and Australian took hold. (God, I miss those days.) And, somewhere in there, between the Elvis Costello and the Huey Lewis & The News and the constant Madonna overexposure on the radio, I happened across a little song one very late night...no band name was mentioned...called "The Swing".

"The Swing", the first song to really get some airplay for INXS in the US, was not to be their best song ever, nor was it from their best album by any means (both IMHO). By the time it made it to my local radio station, it had been out for ages in other places. In comparison to some of its British cousins, the production values were uneven and Michael's vocals on the single (yes, folks, the 'old kind' of single) seemed to flutter in and out with intensity...but hey, I thought it was intended to be that way. My Mama, not understanding the whole semi New Wave kick I was on, refused to let me buy very much music those days (I think Boy George and Culture Club freaked out a lot of Midwestern mothers, thereby ruining it for other bands), so my earliest INXS musical memories are songs taped from the radio on cassette tapes or bootlegs from good friends such as the dear Amanda. During debate team outings, I remember passing such tapes up and down the bus aisle...exposing this great, vibrant, music-heavy band to as many people as I could. By the time INXS finally started to hit it big in the States, I admit I took some unnatural pride of being 'ahead of the curve' (for once)...LOL. It is by no accident that when myself and two friends went to compete in a state newspaper and yearbook competition my senior year our 'theme song' was "The Devil Inside", and not because our school were the Devils or anything. Rather, it was the popping rhythms and Michael's husky lyrics that we couldn't shake and would have rolling over...and over, and over...in our heads while we worked. The music of INXS at that time was fun, it was vibrant and distinctive from everything else on mainstream radio, and Michael and Andrew Farriss' lyrics (Andrew being the unheralded genius of the band, really) had messages of acceptance and love for one another. And, yes, you could dance and romance to it, too...LOL.

Fast forward to 1997, almost 10 years past those heady days of high school. By then, I'd moved to the right coast, we're deep in the Clinton administration, and grunge and whatever the hell post-grunge was called has taken over. The bright optimism forged with a longing to be connected with others of the '80s music has long since been killed off, and probably none too soon for those who had taken it to its over the top excess. A lot of good bands came into my life during that time...Nirvana (I still can remember the first time I heard "Smells Like Teen Spirit", as I actually stopped driving and pulled the car over to listen to the radio station play it 3 times in a row: it was like a musical atomic bomb had been dropped), Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, Sublime and several others a bit later...and admittedly, I changed musical gears a bit. Shortly after my father died that spring, I went way into the original depressive music, and found (and still hold) my deep love of the blues. Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Robert Johnson...I have a deep and profound respect for their distinctive sounds now. My longtime faves, INXS, were still out there and still touring, but I had somehow shifted them to the back burner. It wasn't intentional at all, it just happened somehow. But I felt guilty about it, it was sort of like cheating on your first-ever real love. The Boys from Oz had been the soundtrack for my celebrations, for my angry fights with friends and family, for my tears and frustrations. Hell, when I described about wanting to go to Oz one day, images from INXS' song, "Johnson's Aeroplane", filled in the adjectives...

”Four long lines one darker than the rest
Each one has a purpose making borders on the land
Farmer's pride you know he works real hard
From a small aeroplane you can see the fields

Heart shaped hedges
Japanese gardens
Heart shaped hedges
Japanese gardens...”
(I've always liked their lesser-known songs such as this one the best, with ”Heaven Sent” being my all-time fave song, and ”Welcome to Wherever You Are” being my favourite album, even if some reviewers did savagely attack it. Sometimes their less commercially-successful work best showcased their musical and writing talents.)

Then, sometime in the late spring of 1997, I was home, in bed, and not feeling well. While I'm not really a TV watcher when I'm feeling ill, a relatively new show called ”The Rosie O'Donnell Show” was on (this is back when Rosie still appeared quite approachable and far less divisive than she sometimes does now) and I had yet to see a full telecast. To my surprise, INXS was on and was performing songs from their then-current album, ”Elegantly Wasted” (the last they would do with Hutchence). What I saw televised before me was definitely not the singer I had followed for so many years...but instead a soul that seemed a bit weary of the promotional campaign already, and the campaign had just begun. In some ways, it was the shell of the Hutchence I was used to seeing. While he talked adoringly of his young daughter by British TV personality Paula Yates (who was the ex-wife of Live Aid guru, Bob Geldof, and who came complete with very acrimonious and tabloid-fueled breakup with the same because of Hutchence), he seemed a bit weak and maybe even a bit subdued...or at least in comparison to what he had been the last US tours. I remember watching in quiet curiosity as to what was going on with Michael, thinking that perhaps he had just been on a bender or heavily jet-lagged, and it was just a really odd kind of interview for him. Something didn't seem right, really, but what they hell did I know? Never would I have guessed then that would be the last time I would see that charming, talented, thoughtful, yet introverted man interviewed on TV.

When Hutchence was found dead in a hotel room in Double Bay, Sydney, later that November, it hit most of us die hard fans like a ton of bricks. The 'information' that was dredged up about him made the loss even more difficult, as he clearly had been depressed, clearly had been overwhelmed with the whole Geldof/Yates affair, clearly was having problems after suffering a head injury a few years prior, clearly was wanting his music to go in a direction without INXS, and clearly had a whole host of issues we'll probably never know. No matter what what you eventually believe was the cause of Hutchence's death (and that has been a subject of much debate for more than 10 years now)...whether it was auto erotic asphyxiation (strangling himself during a sex act) or suicide by hanging...doesn't really matter in the end, as the light that was his spirit was extinguished still the same. The words and images and memories, thankfully, live on, but the spirit has went back into the ether...as it should be.

The downhill turn of developments since Michael's death...Yates' death by accidental heroin overdose (who was found by their child, no less), the complete disappearance of his extensive fortune, the infighting between his parents and siblings over book deals to personal possessions to movie rights (hell, even his ashes were even divided to keep the peace), to now the potential that his alleged arch-enemy Geldof wants to adopt Michael's daughter as his own (Geldof has raised the girl with her half-sisters since Yates' death in 2000)...just never seems to end. Almost eleven years on, and the drama still continues. For a man who penned countless lines (and I think also tried to live those words) about loving and finding personal acceptance with one another, the fact that his spirit can't be left to rest in peace is perhaps the most heartbreaking facet of this whole mess.

I do not wholly subsist on INXS music and nostalgic trips of my younger years, though. Instead, I have created a rather diverse musical collection, and it's something I take a bit of pride in. Guitarists from Spain, vocalists from Scotland and Ireland, sharecropper blues masters from the Mississippi Delta, bagpipers from Darwin, honky tonkers from the wilds of Tennessee and Texas...and all points and styles in between. Some of these performers I have admired for years, whereas some I have just discovered recently. If there is one thing, though, I take away from all music is at least I try to have an open mind: I'll give something a fair listen and then make a decision, and not toss something outright. And I really focus on the lyrics, as it's an absolute fundamental. But I realized some time back the reason I do this now is because at some point I really fell in love with music and all that it opened up to me. We all have that musical performer or band that opened our eyes a bit and made us search the world around us more...it may be the Police or U2 or Roy Orbison or Hank Williams for you; as you can tell, it was INXS for me. Bands or singers I would never have heard about...such as Jimmy Barnes and Cold Chisel for us Yanks...came from following INXS and their collaborations. And then I discovered more and more from Jimmy, and on and on and on, and it continues still today. You can never thank a musician properly for what emotions they communicated for you, nor for what their music has meant to you...but you can walk away still the same and be touched by it every time you hear it.

"Michael Hutchence" solo album cover, © V2 Records, 1999


Three days prior to his death, Hutchence was working on a solo album he had been toiling on for years. In the end, it still ended incomplete, and his good friend Bono from U2 came in and did some vocals on the tragically haunting "Slide Away". After some patience, I was able to get a copy of this album, which was finally released in 1999 under just his name. It is a difficult album to listen to at times, full of a lot of anger, and pain, and betrayal, and disappointment. Sections of it clearly were intended as a release to handle the pressure of the whole tabloid attack he shared with Yates. It is, however, brutally forthright and a triumph for a lyricist who prided himself on speaking from the heart. It is about as far as one can go from the patented hits of INXS without starting to turn back...and that's both painful and daring. Obviously, given the nature of his death, "Slide Away" is a particularly poignant track. However, the last song Hutchence recorded, "Possibilities", (which quizzically was inserted as the second song but the whole sequential play list is odd to me), is the one that haunts us fans still. It lumbers, it seduces, it contradicts, but, in the end, it tells the ultimate truth: he knew nothing about the people that he touched. And there were so, so many that he did.

"Possibilities" by Michael Hutchence and Danny Saber
lyrics taken from the liner notes and his memorial website of Michael Hutchence solo album, ©1999

It's so strange
How my life's changed
I know nothing
About the people that I touched

Heard a story
It sounded easy
If you don't care
Then you're lying through your teeth

I was shook up
Intoxicated
Drank the juices
Of the possibilities

I'm so alive

If you told me
Nothing's perfect
Hearts are broken
Nothing's free

I could show you
Why it's worth it
That's the way that it's meant to be

It's too strange
How your life's changed
You know nothing
About the people that you've touched

Someone told me
Life is easy
Hearts were bleeding and breaking
They were lying through their teeth

If you told me
Nothing's perfect
Hearts are broken
Nothing's free

I will show you
Why it's worth it
And that's the way that it's meant to be

If you told me
Nothing's perfect
Hearts are broken
Nothing's free

I could show you
Why it's worth it
That's the way that it's meant to be

Heard a story
It sounded easy
Got a new skin and
I'm lying through my teeth
I was shook up
Intoxicated
I drank the juices of the possibilities

Of the possibilities


UPDATE: There is a simply wonderful version of this song on the same memorial website, done by The Possibilities Project Team in honour of Michael's birthday. Exceptionally well done, and very soulful and heartfelt. Just like Michael did it.

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