George Michael: The biography Page 14

  But the album as a whole bombed. ‘It went completely wrong for reasons that I thought were beyond my control,’ Michael explained. His growing impatience with Sony and their apparent unwillingness to support his projects was discussed during the court case in 1993. ‘I was going to give them a track from Listen Without Prejudice to remix. Then later on, when I decided that I was not going to make a dance album or even half a dance album, I decided almost immediately after that to give those three tracks that I was considering, or three of the four tracks I was considering for Listen Without Prejudice Volume 2, to Red Hot & Dance.

  ‘I think its importance was, firstly, as a charity album, and secondly as an album which had three brand new compositions and recordings of mine on it. And therefore,’ he added, ‘it should have been of some importance, I would have thought, to Sony worldwide, simply because it included new material from one of their artists.’

  He also hit out in the Mirror newspaper. ‘The many people around the world who will benefit from the Red Hot & Dance project need all the support we can give them,’ he said. ‘It is a shame this fact was overlooked. This lack of support was apparent in the Chart Show’s refusal to play the “Too Funky” video. It seems this negative approach has more to do with people’s perception of George Michael than anything else.’

  This perceived negative approach was mind boggling. Was it because he wasn’t touring? Was it because some in the press thought he was gay? Michael himself believed that by walking away from success he had committed ‘a very American form of blasphemy’. ‘They were like, “You’re making a hundred million dollars, people love you, how can you quit?” But I knew that to develop as a gay adult, which I had never really been, I had to do it.’

  By October 1992 things had escalated to the point where George Michael simply wanted to get away from his label. He flew to New York for a meeting with the head of the Sony Corporation, Norio Ohga. Michael’s legal position was simple. He wanted to be released from his contract with immediate effect, even though he was still signed for a total of six more solo albums to be spread over the next 11 years. He left the meeting confident that he might be able to reach a settlement, but Sony weren’t going to let him get away without a fight. When they refused to act, Michael decided to challenge them in the courts.

  The rest of the year, and the start of 1993, was dedicated to two major projects: preparing evidence for the upcoming court case and making the most of the time he had left with Feleppa. But like any couple facing terminal illness, the time they had together was never going to seem enough. Michael was convinced that Feleppa would receive better treatment in the US or Europe than he was getting in Brazil. Feleppa though was adamant that he wanted to be treated in Brazil, away from the prying press. For the sake of his family in particular, he didn’t want his illness turning into a circus, which was bound to happen if George Michael was linked to him publicly.

  The pair remained a couple until the end. Feleppa finally died of a brain haemorrhage on 26 March 1993. Michael was still of the opinion that he might have lived if he’d had treatment elsewhere, and was convinced that the only reason he hadn’t was the threat of media intrusion. It added more fuel to Michael’s hatred of the press.

  Michael didn’t attend the funeral, for fear once again of turning the service into a media circus, but the next day he admitted to his parents that he was gay. They took the news well. His father took a little time to get used to the idea, but his mother was more concerned that he’d gone through the whole Feleppa trauma by himself. Not long afterwards Michael visited Feleppa’s grave with Anselmo’s mother, an event about which he later wrote the song ‘You Have Been Loved’.

  Soon after the funeral Parlophone released the Five Live EP. This featured Michael’s performances of ‘Somebody To Love’ and ‘These Are The Days Of Our Lives’ with Queen and Lisa Stansfield at the Freddie Mercury tribute concert, as well as recordings of ‘Killer’, ‘Papa Was A Rolling Stone’ and ‘Calling You’ made on the Cover to Cover tour. Again the proceeds went towards AIDS charities. Michael’s sleeve note read:

  I think a lot of people, not necessarily people who have anything against gay people, are probably taking some small comfort in the fact that although Freddie died of AIDS he was publicly bisexual. It’s a very, very dangerous comfort. The conservative estimate for the year 2000 is that forty million people on this planet will be infected by HIV, and if you think that those are all going to be gay people or drug addicts, then you are pretty well lining up to be one of those numbers. So please, for God’s sake and Freddie’s sake and for your own sakes, please be careful.

  As was his wont, Michael seemed almost intent on putting himself through pain for reasons that he was still keeping private. Throughout the spring he agreed to a series of interviews to promote the Five Live EP, on which all his grief for Freddie Mercury and Anselmo was expressed. While giving nothing away about himself, he told MTV: ‘It’s really sad to me that people think in order to work towards a cure, you have to be afflicted yourself. If people look at me and they think I’m a gay man, fine. If they look at me and think I’m straight, that’s fine, too. It makes no difference. The important thing for the kids, whether they be straight, bisexual, gay, whatever, is to be aware, there’s a definite threat. They are all going to come into contact with people who are afflicted by this disease. There are plenty of people who will die because they felt it was something that was never going to happen to them.’

  In June Michael reached the milestone of his 30th birthday. Despite the trauma he’d been through that year he hosted a wild party in a large marquee at Newmarket racecourse. The venue was chosen because Jack Panos had a horse running at the racecourse, Michael having gifted his father an expensive stud farm a couple of years earlier. The party had a 1970s fancy dress theme and guests were bussed in from pickup points in Watford so the location wouldn’t be leaked to the press. It was extravagant, but Michael could afford it. In 1993 the Sunday Times Rich List claimed he was worth £80 million.

  After the party, Michael had just three months before his case against Sony was due to open. He later admitted that if it wasn’t for the pain of losing Feleppa he might not have gone as far as the courtroom, but it was to become the perfect vessel for his pain and resentment.

  The preliminaries to the case had now begun, and Michael’s legal brief won the right to access the contracts of other artists on the Sony roster. Bruce Springsteen, Michael Jackson and Billy Joel were just three of the acts whose deals were scrutinised. The whole music industry watched with more than a passing interest: if George Michael won it would send shock-waves through the business. The high cost of buying CDs, especially in the UK, was the subject of debate in the press and people were keen to see what information would come out during the proceedings regarding how much artists earned per disc sold.

  On the eve of the case Sony put forward an offer to Michael’s legal team in an effort to avoid going to court. The offer included an inclination to end the contract, though with certain financial provisos. Michael’s camp saw this as an unofficial admission that Sony expected to lose the case; Michael, feeling particularly belligerent, decided to go for the kill.

  The opening salvos had been fired via the press as far back as 1992. Sony made a statement in the Independent newspaper which claimed they had clear and unwavering commitment to their artist: ‘Together our relationship with him has been mutually fruitful. Our contract with George is valid and legally binding. We are saddened and surprised by the action George has taken. There is a serious moral as well as legal commitment attached to any contract, and we will not only honour it, but vigorously defend it.’ Michael’s music publisher, Dick Leahy, was quoted in the same article. ‘It’s about the style of management,’ he said. ‘Under the old management there was an understanding that their top worldwide artists would develop over time, and change direction when they needed to. Now it’s all short-term thinking. All a record company has to do is market what he gives th
em, and he feels he wasn’t marketed adequately. He feels Sony got their priorities wrong and made a lot of mistakes.’

  George Michael was also quoted: ‘Since the Sony Corporation bought my contract, I have seen the great American music company that I proudly signed to as a teenager become a small part of the production line for a giant electronics corporation. Musicians do not come in regimented shapes and sizes, but are individuals who change and evolve together with their audiences. Sony obviously views this as a great inconvenience.’

  Proceedings finally opened at London’s High Court on 11 October 1993. Justice Jonathan Parker would be judging the outcome; Graham Pollock was defending Sony while Mark Cran acted as QC for George Michael. Each day the singer turned up to listen to the sometimes technical legal matters that were argued over by counsel before the case proper could start, his parents looking on all the while from the public gallery. As the trial wound on, Michael would start and end his day by playing squash and pounding away on a treadmill in an effort to burn off his anger and anxiety. He sat in court for 17 days before being asked to take the stand himself for a draining three-day stint.

  Beginning his evidence, Michael told the judge that he wanted to back away from the limelight. He explained why he had titled his last album the way he had, why he hadn’t toured and why his picture wasn’t on the cover, and cited Sony’s alleged lack of support over his image change. But he refused to say out loud how much he was worth, instead writing the number on a slip of paper which was passed to the judge. It was revealed that Michael had grossed just short of £100 million for Sony. Out of this mind-boggling figure, Michael had been paid 7.4 per cent and the label had taken 52.5 per cent. Sony hit back by saying that he’d known it was an exclusive contract and that he’d been more than happy to take the £11 million advance when he’s signed back in the 1980s.

  Michael spoke at length about his disappointment at the perceived lack of support given to him on the completion of Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 1. ‘The main thrust of my disappointment in Sony UK at the time [was] how they spent their money, was that they sustained regional advertising on the album. I was shocked that there was no advertising going on in London, and I was shocked that they had not promoted the B side that I had prepared to help them in the charts with “Waiting For That Day”,’ he told the judge. ‘I obviously didn’t feel at the time that they were totally committed. I found it surprising that for their biggest selling artist they waited before they advertised in London, which presumably has got to be one of the strongest areas. I must admit, even though they did a very good job over the course of the album around the country, I was surprised that they felt they had to test areas before they could spend money in London.

  ‘My reason for wanting to part with Sony is because I don’t believe that one particular area of the world which is very important to me has any belief in me or any motivation to exploit my work. If there’s a relationship between artist and record company it should be a mutual thing. If an artist wants certain songs on the radio I would have thought the record company’s position with that artist, especially after almost ten years, would be to try and support that.

  ‘I’m not really complaining. I am saying that I was satisfied with the job they did and that even though I do believe that with more extensive advertising Listen Without Prejudice would have sold more in this country, I still am happy with my position here because the music was heard on the radio. I’m afraid I have to refer you again to the fact that the radio promotion has absolutely nothing to do with CBS UK.’

  Sony claimed that the whole case was a cover for Michael’s inability to fulfil the contract because he was suffering from writer’s block. Further arguments raged over the relationship between Sony’s management and Michael himself. The label had to admit that relations had deteriorated when Michael’s brief pointed out that they were in possession of a recorded telephone conversation in which CBS president Don Ienner had referred to Michael as ‘that faggot client of yours’.

  The case would drag on until April 1994, incurring massive legal fees on both sides. But on 1 December 1993, Michael took time out to appear at the World AIDS Day concert at Wembley Arena at the special request of the Princess of Wales. The ‘Concert for Hope’, held to raise funds for the Princess’ National AIDS Trust, was presented by a very dapper looking David Bowie in a grey suit. k d lang and Mick Hucknall played as support acts for Michael, who appeared in an understated, slim-fitting single-breasted tartan suit of green and blue. The circular stage was spotlit from four corners as screams welcomed the opening words of ‘Father Figure’. Michael turned the excitement up a notch further for the next song, jumping around the periphery of the stage clapping his hands above his head as the opening bars of Seal’s ‘Killer’ rang out. Every little dance move drew more screams. He slowed it right down with a couple of ballads, thanking ‘the lady who made this all possible’ before demonstrating that he still had it as the ultimate showman, getting the entire crowd on its feet for ‘Freedom 90’.

  Back in court, after the closing arguments had been heard, the verdict took a further two months while the judge deliberated and set out his reasoning in a 280-page ruling. On 21 June the parties were recalled to court. Queues started to form outside the High Court at 7.30 am, fans and photographers jostling for position. When the judge read out his ruling, it was soon apparent that Sony had prevailed. His decision hinged on two major factors: first, George Michael had renegotiated the contract during its course, when he’d signed for the £11 million advance, and second he’d always had full and proper legal advice and had entered into the contracts knowingly. Michael left the court in silence but later made an official statement to the press:

  ‘I am shocked and extremely disappointed. It means that even though I both created and paid for my work, I will never own it or have any rights over it. And perhaps most importantly, I have no right to resign. In fact, there is no such thing as resignation of an artist in the music industry. However, I am convinced that the English legal system will not support Mr Justice Parker’s decision or uphold what is effectively professional slavery.’

  He vowed that he would never record for Sony again and pointed out that while he’d had money deducted from his earnings to pay for recording costs, Sony still owned the very same recordings. Meanwhile, Sony somehow found it appropriate to say that they looked forward to working with George Michael again.

  After taking time to review his options, Michael spoke to David Frost on Carlton TV about his frustrations over the case. He continued to argue that his contract was essentially an extension of the very first one signed with Innervision. ‘It wasn’t a perfect deal because all the way through, I never signed a new deal … Every single deal that I have done, every single renegotiation that I’ve ever done, whether it be with CBS or Sony, has been an extension of the deal that I signed when I was 18 years old, which effectively bound me for, I think it was ten albums altogether. It was five and an optional five which is effectively the whole of my career. I’ve never been able to sign a piece of paper as a new deal. I’ve always been trying to update that deal that I did when I was 18, so I’ve always been held to that part of the deal that I signed when I was 18 years old.’ He also pointed out that when the news broke in court that he’d been paid an £11 million ‘advance’, it was actually taken from royalties that he’d already earned. Sony, as he put it, were always operating in the black.

  ‘You are almost always signing people in a very vulnerable position, and I definitely was in a very vulnerable position. I was at the age of 18, and many bands are signed that young. Some are signed a little older, but whenever they’re signed, they’re desperate. There isn’t one other industry that operates on this basis. If I were an author, and I fell out with my company in the way that I have, the worst I would have to endure was the fact that they would have the first option on my next book, so you’re talking about two books. It’s a ridiculous situation to sign a contract when you’re 18 year
s old, and be held to it for your entire professional career. Why, why, would any court uphold that situation? The judge seems to have found, in my case, that I reaffirmed this contract at the given point of my renegotiations, but did I really have any choice? The choice that I had was to go along with that length of term, or to do what I’ve done now, which has been incredibly difficult.’

  He understood that not everyone on the street would be sympathetic to his argument as he was so rich, but he also wanted to point out that his wealth shouldn’t prevent him from taking a stand for what he truly believed was right: ‘I thought it was a very strange judgment. The judge was kind enough to point out that he believed I was very honest and candid in the witness box, so I did my best to be truthful. And at the same time, he completely accepted everybody on Sony’s side. Everybody that appeared in defence of Sony, he completely accepted that they were all telling the truth. The ultimate truth is Sony didn’t need me to begin with. Sony as a corporation, and even as a record company, is so massive that they can do without George Michael perfectly easily. The UK company would miss me, the company as a whole would not miss me because it has so many major artists. What they did mean to do with this court case was hold on to their standard contract, and with this judgment they’ve managed to do that.’ That was, of course, the main point as far as the company was concerned. If they let George Michael ‘get away with it’, who would be next?

  Michael was determined not to be beaten. He said ‘I am now convinced that, without a total artistic and personal compromise on my part, the sad deterioration in my relations with Sony worldwide is irreversible. I shall obviously take full legal advice, but the initial view is that we have very strong grounds for an appeal.’

  In August 1994 Michael entered his official appeal, but despite arguments that it should be heard sooner rather than later because of the effect upon his career, he was told it would have to go on the lengthy waiting list just like everybody else. In the aftermath of the ruling Michael decided to dispense with the services of Rob Kahane, implying that he’d been unhappy with his input during the legal battles. (The judge had called Kahane a ‘thoroughly unreliable and untrustworthy witness …) By the autumn his head was finally clear enough for him to be able to write music again, and his feelings about Anselmo Feleppa came flooding out. With the traumatic year almost behind him, George Michael was back on form.