It’s hard to believe Wham’s debut album is 40 years old.
Wham! was conceived by a pair of Watford wonders in a tan-fastic spirit of optimism, fun, and the possibilities of teenagerdom; a delirious froth of shorts, shuttlecocks and singlets and – a way, said its frontman George Michael, of fighting “the negative reaction to youth” which prevailed at the time.
The aggressive, excitable attitude to life which the duo espoused was always, he maintained, much more a reflection of Andrew Ridgeley’s more carefree personality than his own, but George was often excited by it as much as anyone.
Talking of which, in our 1983 household (Buckinghamshire rather than the Hertfordshire of the group, though much later on I’d find myself living much closer to the Yogurty one in London), it was my sister Stella who bought the Fantastic album.
To me, it was girl’s music, but the 14 year-old me would sneak the LP into my bedroom for a bit when she was out.
I never actually played the thing, though those clear plastic sleeves people bought to protect their collections certainly came in handy.
What a release!
Wham! Bam! I am a man!
Congrats George, you got me in the end, even though I kinda liked Andrew more. Yikes.
Happy heavenly birthday Yog.
Steve Pafford (who turns 54 in a few hours, acutely aware the other Hampstead hairy half-greek never got that far)
