MALU VAN LEEUWEN arrived at the INXS concert in Cape Town a sceptic. She left the stadium a fan
WHEN Michael Hutchence eases into the VIP hospitality area for the media “meet and greet” he’s powdered from temple to toe: Abba-blue eyeshadow, baby-blue checked flares, royal-blue buckled dandy shoes.
So, Michael, how much easy listening are you into these days? “Mozart, Bacharach, Serge Gainsbourg … I used to live two doors down from him in Paris.” His parents, he tells me, were pretty hip so he’s always been “with the times – if not ahead of them”. Any interest in the developments of drum’n’bass, I ask, thinking of the immediate contradiction of nearly 20 years’ worth of INXS oeuvre and little deviation from the original formula.
Actually, yes. He animatedly explains his current solo project, a cheesy analog affair which he hopes to seduce Massive Attack’s Nellee Hooper into producing. Without the least trace of vanity’s sake name-dropping, he embarks on an anecdote involving an all-night argument between himself, Tricky and junglemeister Goldie – “that’s why I moved to London 18 months ago, to be with these guys”.
There’s no mention of his much-tabloided liaison with the ex-Mrs Bob Geldof, Paula Yates, and before he can even reach the punchline of his story he’s spirited off for Polaroids and party chatter.
If Hutchence is diminutive in person, onstage he’s the living proof of the small man = big voice = big dick theory, joining the likes of Iggy Pop, Jimi Hendrix, Robert Plant. His hips may not have the repertoire of Mick Jagger or the slick dance routines of Michael Jackson, but his hand knows how to slide across his crotch in such a way that the crowd behaves like italics anyway. He’s got the rock star poseuring waxed: there’s just enough fuck-me attitude to make the fuck-you demeanour seem like a sexy come-on too. Come to think of it, fucking is the currency of INXS’s popularity, amply demonstrated when Hutchence introduces Need You Tonight with a simple “Here’s a song about fucking. Or lack of.”
And if INXS’s heterosexual appeal turns you off, you can always bend your ear to Original Sin – on which Hutchence’s voice dips and soars in an impressive, albeit unintentional, mimicry of Elton John. Still, it seems faintly ridiculous that here we are salivating over a six-pack of middle-aged men, the main dude flexing his tight buttocks, the suggestion of lean muscle rippling under those flares as he expertly drapes himself over the monitors, touches a few groping female hands in the front row – Elvis meets Mephistopheles live in Las Vegas.
Besides the obligatory rounds of “Hey Cape Town! Are you having a good time?”, INXS deliver two hours of solid value-for-money entertainment, all the hits plus a good few – some say too many – tracks off their new album, Elegantly Wasted. Which makes sense, since this is the debut performance of their world tour. It also makes sense, in the light of the Australian quota system, that Hutchence takes time out to instruct the audience to “fucking support local music!” (mildly ironic considering the meet and greet took place during the Springbok Nude Girls’ support act).
“So how does it feel to be white trash natives?” Hutchence wants to know. The audience is nonplussed, so he retorts as if to himself, “Guess that’ll stick then.” But he follows it up, again and again, like he’s bought the Rainbow Nation concept but can’t quite figure out why there are so many white faces in front of him.
When he tries humour – “That’s what I love so much about this country. Twenty ways to say hello and fuck off!” – it works; when he opts for serious bonding – “Molo! Sawubona!” – the crowd seems to squirm with embarrassment. And when he mentions Zulu, it’s too late to tell him that the Cape Town he’s thinking of is predominantly Xhosa-speaking.
Regardless, INXS are that clich – consummate performers – and no amount of cultural gaffes are going to trip them up. After Hutchence has complimented the crowd on its exuberance (unlike London crowds which “just stand there, they’re so fucking cool. They think.”), we’re the best and he’s happy to be here in Afrika. After we’ve finished begging for an encore, they come back on for another four songs. When Suicide Blonde starts up it’s like he’s singing it to me. And I’m so fucking happy to be an INXS fan. Starting today.
— Malu van Leeuwen is music editor of Student Life