Tom Dunne: Wham documentary shows how Andrew really was a good friend
George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley in the Wham documentary on Netflix.
At the height of all this week’s RTÉ shenanigans the idea of an #OIREACHTASPLAYLIST did briefly cross my mind. But only briefly. It wouldn’t be fair. Too many unsung heroes in RTÉ quietly doing their job wonderfully in dreadful circumstances for that.
That said, if those unsung heroes were to ask me for a song recommendation, I have one: Warren Zevon’s 'Lawyers, Guns and Money'. It’s perfect, particularly the line; “the shit has hit the fan.” It is a song for our times and it’s classic Zevon.
Zevon often said that once you have a great title, the rest is just homework. Hence titles like 'Bad Luck Streak in Dancing School', 'Things to Do in Denver When You’re Dead', and 'If You Won’t Leave Me, I’ll Find Someone Who Will'. Mini novels, all of them.
I’m not sure Zevon wrote any songs about Unsung Heroes, but if did he should have written one for Andrew Ridgely. I watched him this week in the Netflix Wham documentary, as much a story about one man stepping aside as another one making it.
If it is Andrew’s fate to be remembered as the “other one” in Wham, it is something he accepts gracefully. The barbs were many, most notably when Elton John didn’t even announce him on stage at Wembley with George, and he was left to make his way over and join the backing vocalists.
Or when Paula Yates said on live tv, “and now international superstar George Michael and, em, George’s friend.” It can’t have been easy.
The documentary doesn’t end with Andrew being passed a whiskey and a loaded gun, but, but you suspect he’d have accepted both stoically. He seemed to just really care for George and was as eager to see him spread his talented wings as anyone.
Which must have been so hard for him to take. Andrew was George’s best friend from the moment they met aged 12 and 11 respectively. Andrew was asked to “mind” George, something he took very seriously. They were inseparable.
Andrew was the cool one, George his slightly nerdy friend. George was, if anything in awe of his friend’s innate cool. They adored music and were writing songs in no time. They wrote 'Careless Whisper' while still at school and both agreed it would one day be Number One.
I was surprised, watching it, just how enormous, and great, they were. It was the '80s, I was probably paying more attention to REM and The Smiths. But track after track, Young Guns, Everything She Wants, Freedom, were all just so amazingly well written. George’s hair, dodgy suit and incredibly white teeth might stick in the mind, but honestly, the tunes!
Their rate of ascent too was jaw-dropping. From Top of the Pops to American Number Ones, sell-out tours, a type of 80s Beatlemania and gigs at Wembley Stadium in jig time. Key to it all was George’s song-writing. Every time he needed another hit, he produced it with apparent ease.
By 21 he was explaining to Jerry Wexler, the man who made Aretha Franklin and Ray Charles, that he didn’t like his version of 'Careless Whisper'. A 21-year-old saying that to JERRY! He then produced the song himself. That’s the version you know, the good one, the hit.
At this point the Andrew barbs grew sharper. “What exactly does Andrew do?” the cynics asked. “He plays guitar and has a good time,” said George defensively. “But Wham don’t really use guitars,” they said. “I do all the stuff you don’t see,” said Andrew.
It sounded a little weak, but it was the absolute truth. He still minded George, protected him, and helped guard the fact that he was gay, something which in George’s mind, was becoming a ticking time bomb. Not even his dad knew.
But it was in relation to George’s blossoming talent that Andrew’s true worth shone. He accepted that George’s talent vastly outstripped his own and that he needed to step aside to let it bloom with incredibly good grace. He simply wanted what was best for his friend, even if it didn’t include him.
It’s a rare thing to see. You’d expect recriminations and accusations, lawsuits and counter lawsuits. At the very least: lawyers, guns and money. But there were none, just genuine delight at his best friend’s success. It’s a heart-warming tale. And its still impossible to be glum and sing 'Wake me Up Before you Go Go'. Fact!
Tom Dunne recently offered his thoughts on Van Morrison’s best album. Numerous readers responded with their thoughts on the subject. Here are a few of the comments:
“I have all Van’s music, all 44 I think. His best is what suits at any given time - for me it’s probably five.
St Dominick's Preview from the 1970s.
Common One from the 1980s
Back on Top from the 1990s
Magic Time from 2000s
Three Chords & the Truth from the 2010s.”
“Astral Weeks sits with Miles Davis' Kind of Blue: a God-ordained instance rather than a grouping of songs, however artfully organised. No AW and Van's an also-ran, although it was St Dominic's Preview that first told me Van was special, cued by Whispering Bob Harris on the Old Grey Whistle Test.”
“I would have the say my personal favourite is Common One. I know it’s a strange choice but I feel it’s the album in which all the different parts of his music come together in unexpected ways.”
“I'm a bit leftfield here but my favourite van album is Poetic Champions Compose. I think it depends what age you were when you hear an album first as to what's your favourite.”
n: “Veedon Fleece, because of the varied production and vocals - ie falsetto - in one song, voice building to a scream in 'Cul de Sac' combined with lyrical beauty of 'Fair Play'. But of course Astral Weeks would be a very very close second.”
“I was introduced to Van's music through Into the Music, which I regularly go back to and listen to ALL the Tracks. I do like the live Night in San Francisco double-album too, especially where Van, Georgie Fame, Candy Dulpher merge several tracks into 15+ minute long epics.”
