George Michael’s gorgeous album Listen Without Prejudice turns 32 this month. It is his second solo album after leaving Wham! in 1986, at the height of the band’s success. Michael then went on to release Faith, an exquisite album which he wrote the music and lyrics for. Michael had some big expectations for his second solo venture and he did not disappoint. The second album could not be more different from the first.

In late October 1987, one short year after Michael decided to leave Wham! and all its global success, the singer’s debut album Faith made its way into the world. Proving that he was no one-hit wonder dependent on the success of a duo, Michael wrote and composed all of Faith’s tracks, proving that he was so much more than just the sex symbol that he had become synonymous with. Faith ended up spending twelve weeks at number one and went on to sell a whopping twenty-five million copies globally. Any shackles that Michael needed to shake from his “teenybopper group” had well and truly been smashed and the newfound solo incarnation that Michael had dreamed about since childhood had finally arrived. Albumism

The album opens with Praying For Time, a timeless (ho ho) classic in my view. It examines social injustices and how we have been conditioned by society into not being caring for one another. I imagine Michael is talking about the global receptions to the AIDS crisis. The whole of the album is more sombre than its predecessor and deals with a number of serious issues. George Michael did not come out as gay until 1998, so he could not be explicit about the meaning behind some of these tracks, but they are evident to us now with modern ears.

 

Freedom ’90 is a splendid punchy pop track which was designed to appeal to his straight female fan base. In the music video, we see a collection of the world’s most famous supermodels at the time, including Naomi Campbell, Linda Evangelista, Tatjana Patitz, Christy Turlington and Cindy Crawford lip syncing to his lyrics. Freedom itself is perhaps the resounding theme of the album.

…it was abundantly clear that this album was about escaping a reality that had been created both by the singer himself and those around him whose vested interest lied more in the monetary side of things rather than the creative. Ibidem.

 

“Freedom!,” a house-inflected dance number in which Michael, again in high dudgeon but chipper about it, declared war on MTV and the system that forced him to look devastating in a leather jacket and stubble. Not giving a damn, MTV played the hell out of the video anyway—how could they not? The concept was novel: the besieged superstar out of sight, in his place a menagerie of supermodels. Disgusted with ubiquity, tired of his face, George Michael wanted to vanish. Pitchfork

Cowboys and Angels is a song about a love triangle of unrequited affection. It is influenced by Michael’s obsession with Stan Getz. The influence of this track is explored at length in Older, Michael’s 1996 offering.

Listen Without Prejudice, Vol.1 was the follow-up that Faith demanded; in this new incarnation, it’s a miscellany unruffled by notions of coherence, an attempt to make art out of George Michael’s quarrels with himself. Never again would these quarrels work to such bounteous ends. Pitchfork

Michael wrote, in Freedom 90′ ‘today the way I play the game is not the same’. The rest of this album is a testament to this. This is an album of honesty, introspection and candour on a level we have not yet seen from the artist. He is done with pop for pop’s sake and seeks to re-invent himself as a serious artist who does not pander to his record executives’ whims. He seeks to go beyond chart pop and give his listeners something special which, he hopes, they might receive without prejudice.

Listen Without Prejudice Vol.1 was—and remains—an honest appraisal about the tradeoffs inherent within fame, and the sadness and isolation it can spawn. Thirty years later and with so many people clamoring for attention via social media, this album might just be what the doctor ordered for those desperate to be validated by the invisible “friend.” Albumism