Writing about the world’s biggest pop icons is often a double-edged sword. On the plus side, authors know the public is always hungry for more (just see the volume of unofficial Taylor Swift biographies released in recent years). But minus side, they need to find a new angle to avoid treading over old ground.
In Tonight the Music Seems So Loud: The meaning of George Michael – its title a lyric from Michael’s 1984 smash hit Careless Whisper – Sathnam Sanghera nails his colours to the mast in the first few pages. “George Michael does not get the acknowledgement he deserves,” he asserts. He notes that while there are “countless books out there which seriously analyse the music and lyrics of The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Prince and Taylor Swift, when it comes to Michael, very few go “beyond the soap opera” of his life. And, that the “obsession with his biography continues to blind people to his talent today”.
It’s a persuasive argument, and upon finishing the introduction I felt compelled to take a deeper dive into Michael’s back catalogue. Prior to this, I’d only been a casual listener, appreciating his vocal chops and enjoying the singles when they came on the radio or TV. But, as with all the most talented artists, I find that the gold lies in the albums.
As Sanghera points out, many of his songs were “written, produced, arranged and performed” by Michael, who demonstrates an extraordinary range and depth of artistry and innovation across his studio output. To me, at least, this is revelatory information.
I don’t imagine I’m alone. I surmise this is largely due to how Michael has been presented to us through the mass media over the years, with British tabloids often ignoring his status as bona fide auteur and instead labelling him simply as “The Wham! singer”, “Last Christmas singer” or “popstar”. Perhaps such labels have occurred simply because it’s easier than writing singer/ songwriter/ producer/ arranger/ multi-instrumentalist. Or perhaps, as Sanghera says, it’s because of the “endless salacious headlines”. But, whatever the reason, Michael’s talents have certainly been undersold.
The music v the man
Now suitably appreciative of the need to take George Michael and his music seriously, I return to the book, eager to educate myself beyond the simple “soap opera” information Sanghera rightly rails against.
I read about Michael’s Greek Cypriot heritage. I read about the cultural impact that Wham! gigs had on China in the early 80s. I read about his sexuality, charity work, political activism, relationship with fame and his drug addictions. Occasionally, most notably in the chapter “Genius Naïf” (referencing Michael’s musical naivety), I read about his songs and the creative processes behind them.
Upon finishing the book, I couldn’t help but feel that Sanghera’s intention to focus on the music rather than the man was somewhat at odds with what was actually delivered. Of its 263 pages, only 40 are spent analysing music, lyrics and creative processes. This means 85% of the book is dedicated to precisely what it was supposed to be avoiding: “the biography that continues to blind people to his talent.”
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The personal touch
If we approach the book as a straight-forward biography rather than the musical analysis it’s presented as, then it’s a fine, detailed, intelligent work. It also strikes a fine balance between the integrity of biographical writing and the readability of narrative non-fiction.
Adding a welcome personal touch, Sanghera begins and ends the book by reflecting on his own relationship with George Michael’s and Wham!’s music, while also threading short anecdotal sections throughout. Although it could be thought that such subjectivity would isolate most readers from the narrative, it has the opposite effect. I felt I inhabited Sanghera’s emotional connection to the music as if it were my own experience, allowing for a more immersive and meaningful read. It’s also effective in showing how the terrain of a lifelong fanship like Sanghera’s isn’t always easily navigated, and how our attitudes toward even our most beloved artists can change significantly over time.
It’s tough for a writer to be critical about an artist who played such an important role in their musical and personal development. Doing so can even feel like an attack on the self. But Sanghera never shies away from censuring Michael when he deems it necessary. Among the praise, he approaches without bias what he sees as Michael’s perfectionism, laziness and “control freakery” – with this last enough to warrant an entire chapter on the subject.
Tonight the Music Seems So Loud is well worth the time for both existing George Michael fans and those yet to be converted. Just don’t expect detailed analysis of the music.
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Glenn Fosbraey does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.