Faith. Hope. George Michael
- joie
- Dec 10, 2025
- 3 min read
Picture this: a middle school gymnasium, crepe paper streamers drooping from the basketball hoops, and "Careless Whisper" playing over crackling speakers while we shuffled awkwardly. Was it appropriate for twelve-year-olds? Absolutely not. Did we care? Even less. It was the late '80s, and Wham! was everywhere "Everything She Wants" stayed on heavy rotation on my record player.
But then "One More Try" arrived and absolutely demolished me. This wasn't just another pop song; this was the kind of vulnerability that rewired a kid's entire emotional landscape, like discovering color after living in black and white.
Faith had its moments (hello, title track and leather jacket), but Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 1 transformed me from casual fan to devoted disciple.
Not a single skip on that album. A claim I don't make lightly.
"Praying for Time" and "Cowboys and Angels" still make me misty-eyed, which is saying something for someone who grew up emotionally armored in the '90s.
But it was Older that really got me: "Fastlove" sampled Patrice Rushen's "Forget Me Nots" (another forever favorite), "Star People" became my anthem, and then "You Have Been Loved" arrived to completely wreck me. That song spoke directly to the specific pain of being a gay kid in the '90s, watching friends get kicked out, disowned, surviving however they could, dropping from AIDS while our parents' generation couldn't simply love us for who we were.
Everything changed when I watched his MTV Unplugged performance. I went from admiring the man to wanting to marry him. His talent, his vulnerability, his refusal to compromise his artistry for commercial demands. He sold somewhere between 100 and 125 million records worldwide, dominated charts across decades with everything from "I Knew You Were Waiting (For Me)" with Aretha Franklin to "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me" with Elton John, and still managed to champion emerging artists with genuine generosity.
Friends who worked with him confirmed the stories: he was exactly as kind and supportive as I'd hoped, though I'm grateful I never met him personally. (We should never meet our heroes as they can't possibly live up to the narratives we build, and honestly, that's not fair to them.)
I was at Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam when news of his death broke in December 2016. The gut-punch was immediate and visceral, the kind of grief reserved for people who'd somehow accompanied you through decades of life without ever actually knowing you existed. But that's the power of great artists they create soundtracks for our private revolutions, our coming-of-age struggles, our survival stories.
George Michael gave voice to the isolation, the hope, the defiance, and the love that kept queer kids like me going when the world felt impossibly hostile. His music was transcendent, according to everyone lucky enough to see him live (a regret I'll carry forever), but more than that, it was necessary.
Discography:
Faith (1987) - The diamond-certified solo debut that made him a global superstar, blending pop, R&B, and soul with uncompromising confidence and sex appeal.
Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 1 (1990) - A deliberate pivot from pop stardom toward artistic integrity, exploring social commentary and personal introspection with stunning maturity.
Older (1996) - A lush, emotionally complex meditation on love, loss, and aging that showcased his evolved songwriting and production mastery.
MTV Unplugged (1996) - Recorded live in 1996, this stripped-down performance showcased his extraordinary vocal talent and emotional depth without studio polish. The intimate setting revealed an artist in complete command of his craft, transforming pop hits into soul-baring confessions that connected with audiences on a profoundly human level.
Songs from the Last Century (1999) - An intimate covers album of jazz and pop standards that highlighted his interpretive gifts and vocal versatility.
Patience (2004) - His return after an eight-year absence, blending dance-pop with political commentary and deeply personal reflections on love and loss.
