
George Michael's 1987 solo debut album
Faith was a bid for
seriousness following his career as part of the boy band duo Wham! – and
it worked. Six consecutive hit singles rewarded pop fans' faith. But on
a different level, it also restored faith.
Look at the album cover, the first of several memorable George
Michael icons. The jewelry hanging from his left ear was code.
Strategically measured above the fashionably-trimmed scruffy beard, it
conveyed audacity and conscience, perfecting Madonna's quasi-religious
pop antics. Yet Michael's male rebellion produced a shock all its own:
Here was a rebel whose spiritual belief rushed him (perhaps guiltily)
beyond the material girl's commercial siren symbolism into sexual
mystique.
From that point, Michael used the album to erect a
series of carefully crafted pop statements that were also personal
career manifestos. Track three, "Father Figure," is the most impressive
and the most enduring of
Faith's many hit singles that made
Michael a competing force during the high-pressure era of Michael and
Janet Jackson blockbusters. Its blend of pop-gospel balladry and R&B
sensuality made Michael a crossover artist of similar huge significance
– attracting racially diverse listeners among Eighties radio and music
video's ever-expanding audience.
That earring symbolism and the
pop eccentricity it entailed, chanced one of the deepest – queerest –
dares of all the fops and bohemians pouring out of England, New York,
Los Angeles and Minneapolis bohemias. These AIDS-era comrades were
epitomized by the British pop duos from Pet Shop Boys, Erasure to the
Communards whose partnerships depicted a vanguard gay solidarity. But by
breaking out on his own, Michael was a rogue among renegades. But he
was a romantic rogue, a recording industry megahustler with Motown in
his heart. In "Father Figure," he revealed his special knowledge of pop
music as the language of seduction.
The track starts with
confession: "That's all I wanted/Something special, something sacred."
In the hard-nosed rap songs popular in the late 1980s, this was known as
"booty-begging" music. (At that time, only 16-year-old L.L. Cool J
dared to express romance in hip-hop.) But Michael, schooled in Stevie
Wonder as well as Marvin Gaye, Luther Vandross and Bobby Womack
understood what his peers Michael Jackson and Prince knew about winning
over listeners, including those in the increasingly visible and
demoralized gay subculture. In this context, "booty-begging" spoke
subtly to gay male sexual appeal, even as R&B's legions of female
fans have long understood the parameters of interpersonal erotic
entreaties. Certain spoken codes and impassioned gestures – straight as
well as gay – are consistent with the language sung in "Father Figure."
Michael's gift was to make records as language, what Roland Barthes
called "a lover's discourse." His "I Want Your Sex" was pure libido;
"Father Figure" was impure sensitivity – explicit without being raunchy:
"For just one moment/To be bold and naked/At your side."
It's
forward – a verbalized pass – but the phrase "bold and naked" was also
political. The cunning to express physical longing as a social
imperative shows sophistication. In this song George Michael, the gay
pop artist, created a worthy parallel to the ultra-sophistication of Pet
Shop Boys and Muddy Waters. (His best Wham! songs, "Wake Me Up Before
You Go-Go" and "Careless Whisper" were imagined in a lighter mode like
that of the period's other great gay pop duo Erasure.)
With this
interpersonal communication, Michael articulates the spiritual desire
that is rarely admitted within gay discourse. It shows an ability to
translate hidden, or once-forbidden, passion into widely relatable
terms. In Michael-the-suitor's drama of need and longing, he beseeches
the object of his affection, auguring the crucial discussions, the
self-examination and negotiations, that inhabitants of gay subculture
had to hold among themselves (conversations that, of necessity, preceded
the eventual popular understanding of the marriage equality topic.)
"Father
Figure" sets a human precedent more than it argues a social issue. What
makes it an especially fine work of pop art is to be found when
Michael's chorus leaps to the song title's great, almost taboo
revelation:
I will be your father figure (Oh baby)Put your tiny hand in mine
(I'd love to)I will be your preacher teacher (Be your daddy)Anything you have in mind (It would make me)I will be your father figure
(Very happy)I have had enough of crime
(Please let me)I will be the one who loves you'Til the end of time
Every
time I hear this quite stunning refrain, I realize the only thing
preventing it from becoming the new traditional wedding song of the
millennium is its sex-pirate vision of love and fidelity. It's too
knowing for virginal wedding night nuptials. Michael wrote lyrics that
insinuate the complicity of intimates. The father-figure image alludes
to the frankly sexual consent of role-playing partners as enjoyed
between themselves. Each verse progresses in confidentiality,
tenderness, affection. It may seem to go against the rules of equality
as set out by political correctness but perhaps only adult experience
can teach a listener to respect the sense of sexual and emotional play
that Michael vouchsafes – especially in his call-and-response
catchphrase "I'll be your daddy."
"Father Figure" is not
incestuous, nor is it a pro-patriarchy song, but it certainly isn't
against the thrilling dynamic of power relations that exist "When 2 R in
love" (to quote Prince's coital euphemism).
Neither is the song
about inappropriate age relations. Rather, Michael's "Put your tiny hand
in mine" rings like a Sadean nursery rhyme. It absolutely defies
Wham!-era bubble-gum "innocence" which makes it a pop song for adults.
Its most popular line is one that is die-hard romantics often mishear as
"I have had enough of crying." Of course a song as great as this
thrives on ambiguity, but Michael's impetus behind
Faith was to
transcend facile romanticism, which explains the true lyric "I have had
enough of crime." As a mature gay man sensitive to the passion of AIDS
activism and ACT-UP's creed to unleash power against homophobic
restrictions, he was aware of his obligation to account for romance,
even gay boundering, somewhat politically. Though it's just one line,
the anthemic cry surpasses the pent-up anger of Bronski Beat's blatant
pro-gay protest song "Smalltown Boy."
Because Michael was indeed a romantic pop star, he sold "Father
Figure" through a music video that employed general-audience appeal by
emulating a Hollywood melodrama. Going from color to black-and-white,
Michael, co-directing with Andy Morahan, evoked Scorsese's
Taxi Driver,
starring himself in lurid color as a lonely, lovesick cabbie out on the
street cruising – pursuing an aloof supermodel (real-life supermodel
Tania Coleridge doing cinema verite). Shifting to black-and-white
stylization, Michael and Morahan then copied Woody Allen's
Manhattan
as the fantasy romance intensified. Indulging these heterosexual
prototypes before Michael came out to the media is no different from the
command of popular language evident in his songwriting. The video's
hetero stunt was intended to appease timid MTV-ers not ready for
same-sex action, yet it confirmed the universality of "Father Figure"
and its insider's romantic knowledge.
This video's commercial
logic (note Coleridge's broad-shouldered androgynous strut during the
video's runway scene) showed Michael's concern with fighting the norms
of pop music image-marketing. It anticipated the tactic he chose for his
follow-up album
Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 1 and the
magnificent dance track "Freedom '90." That song's still-striking David
Fincher-directed music video was part of Michael's misguided "ascetic
aesthetic" decision to no longer "shake his ass" on camera and stay off
screen. A host of female supermodels – Naomi Campbell, Linda
Evangelista, Cindy Crawford, Tatjana Patitz, Christy Turlington – made
worthy stand-ins for the eyelash-fluttering gay icon. Like the "Father
Figure" music video, it was Drag in Reverse – which might have been a
better title than
Listen Without Prejudice to describe the goal of Michael's pop seduction.
The
personal rebellion that was exposed in the latter, unsettled years of
Michael's public life can be felt in every aspect of "Father Figure"
where the gospel melody veiled a blues music essence – what was secretly
his bawdy gay desire and travail. Dig that cross hanging from his
ear. With his best song and performance, George Michael transformed pop
music language and found personal faith, private realism, in a romantic
ideal.