INXS, S/T

By Less Lee Moore

INXS was one of the bands that my peers actually made fun of me for liking, mispronouncing their name as “Ink-siss” and turning up their noses at my insistence that they were really good. I saw them open for Adam Ant in 1983 and became a fan of their video for “The One Thing” (including Michael Hutchence’s smoldering presence) which was aired frequently on MTV. During the Christmas season of 1984, I became obsessed with their most recent release The Swing, which placed them in an entirely new category of awesome (and should be written about at length at some point in the near future).

Soon after, when trolling the record stores, I chanced upon some of the band’s earlier albums, 1981’s Underneath The Colours and their self-titled debut from 1980. The sound they established and perfected with Shabooh Shoobah and The Swing was only hinted at on the somewhat-underwhelming Underneath The Colours album; their debut was something else entirely.

It hardly seemed like the same band. At the time I found it slightly embarrassing; it sounded like a collection of demos from a bunch of awkward teenagers. Yet, ever the diehard fan, I listened to it religiously. Although it basically sounds nothing like the INXS of future years, it’s still a great album and one which was markedly different from the debut albums of other hugely popular bands of the time, such as Duran Duran or Depeche Mode.

Opening track “On A Bus” is definitely catchy, sounding a lot like the post-REM college radio songs I began to love in the mid-80s, but with a bit of a ska feeling in the keyboards. Even though the song doesn’t showcase singer Michael Hutchence’s distinctive and unparalleled vocal style as fully as later INXS songs—almost as if the music can’t keep up with his voice—you can already tell he’s someone whose unique talent demands attention.

In “Doctor,” the other factor that set INXS apart from their peers makes its appearance: Kirk Pengilly’s saxophone. The ending of the song has a glimmer of the future INXS style, and makes a suitable intro for the next song, “Just Keep Walking,” which sounds just slightly like Split Enz (another band I was fairly obsessed with in the early ’80s). The song ended up reaching #38 on the Australian charts.

“Learn To Smile” has more of the heavy keyboards that define the INXS sound of the early ’80s and we can finally hear what made Hutchence’s vocals so incredibly intoxicating. I remember practically cringing at the chorus of “Jumping,” however, and openly wondering if the song was in fact, meant to be a joke. The next song, “In Vain,” brings back the sound of the previous songs, introducing heavier guitar and piano into the mix. The bridge is fantastic, letting the rhythm section and Hutchence’s passionate vocals shine.

The yo yo continues to swing with “Roller Skating” and the unbelievably ridiculous couplet, I see a girl and she’s roller skating/well, I don’t know her but she makes me feel like roller skating. “Body Language” returns to the ska-heavy feeling of the first couple of songs on the album, while “Newsreel Babies” takes a stab at politics and the media with swirly keyboards and an off-kilter structure. The album ends with the supremely danceable “Wishy Washy,” probably my favorite song on the whole album.

Although I was disappointed in the AOR sound of 1985’s Listen Like Thieves and INXS’s subsequently massively successful albums, time has changed my opinions somewhat. Now I look back upon them with much fondness.

One thing that made INXS so great was the fact that the band had the same lineup for over 20 years, ending only with Michael Hutchence’s tragic death in 1997, when he was just 37. I found it incredibly disrespectful that the remaining members of the band chose to search for a new lead singer and did so via the dreaded forum of the reality show. I wonder what INXS would sound like now had Hutchence lived and I’m angry that his legacy has been somewhat tarnished by the other band member’s actions.

Thirteen years after his death, I still think of Michael Hutchence and feel unbearably sad, not only because of the messy personal drama surrounding his demise, but also because of the loss of such a wonderful talent and a huge part of my musical upbringing.