Daniel Kemp's (fair) Music Reviews!

Released in 1994, Greatest Hits is a compilation album by INXS. Hailing from Australia, INXS’ commercial merging of New Wave and Rock struck a chord with many in the 1980s and early 1990s. However, over the years, their music became increasingly obscured by the multitude of scandals surrounding heartthrob and frontman Michael Hutchence, right up until his inevitable death (read: suicide) in November 1997. INXS continued without Hutchence, to ever more ineffectual attempts to capture the energy of their youth. Mercifully, this compilation only features songs with Hutchence in tow, which is patchy enough as it is.

As bland as it is hollow, opener Mystify fails on all accounts. “I need perfection,” warbles Hutchence - an understatement if ever there was one. The only thing less bearable than Hutchence’s feigning delivery is the lacklustre musicianship, which not only fails to excite but barely reaches levels of competency. Indeed, somewhat disappointingly for a greatest hits compilation, the album is more miss than it is hit. When INXS hit the nail on the head, though, they hit it hard - Suicide Blonde has more energy than a song with such a title deserves. Sadly, it is also the only recording truly worthy of the ‘greatest hit’ title. The harmonica dramatically collides with the level fusion of hazy guitar riffs and critical bass, suspending the listener’s disbelief, that, yes, for a brief moment, INXS were in fact the dog’s testicles. Be proud of your offspring, Australia. You have given the world Nick Cave and INXS (forgive me, St Nick, for mentioning INXS in the same breath as you).

Taste It, taken from their 1992 album Welcome to Wherever You Are, appears to be bringing a lot to the table – itself serving as a semi-autobiographical diary, noting the after-effects of Michael Hutchence’s bicycle accident, which resulted in a fractured skull and a loss of almost the entirety of his senses of taste and smell. Yet, ultimately, it becomes bogged down by its tedious repetition and dated studio trickery. All style and no substance, it is hard to recommend.

I’m not going to be a flaccid piece and dismiss the superiority of the New Wave juggernaut which is Need You Tonight. Again, when INXS pull it off, they do so with street-smart chic and hooks galore. Toe tapping? Check! Head bopping? Check! Having a good time? CHECK! Very stylised and boasting a guitar riff deliberately offset from the rest of the instruments, it recalls mid-1980s’ Prince more than it does generic rock. A winner in this house, certainly. But it’s the songs amongst the set such as Heaven Sent which do the most damage to Greatest Hits’ credibility. Its wearisome rhythms and disorderly pacing is given the kiss of death by the horrendous, nonsensical lyrics. My favourite being, “Tuesday she works in the library uptown/some useful knowledge can always be found/ Don’t burn the library ‘til you’ve read all the books/ sometimes in life you get a second look!” Michael Hutchence to rest of band: ‘Lads, does it rhyme? *allows response* YOU MEAN IT DOES! Man, I’m including this! It’ll speak to legions of pubescent teenage girls who just don’t know any better!’

The hating is over, for now. INXS’ fifth album, Listen Like Thieves, developed their sound further, adding an edge of smooth funk to their material, and garnered mostly favourable results throughout the process. The Talking Heads-esque title-track, Listen Like Thieves, is the most successful song featured from these sessions. True, Michael Hutchence is no David Byrne, but he does his very best and turns in a number that is both credible and danceable in equal measure. Also highly enjoyable is What You Need, with a howling saxophone igniting the recording.

The album closes with Baby Don’t Cry. A fitting title if ever there was one, the song leaves me in tears, for all the wrong reasons. Once I had finished pulling my hair out at the ruthless inability of INXS as both musicians and songwriters, I found that I quite liked the backing vocals during Baby Don’t Cry. Hardly a recommendation, though. And what is with the mad semi-rapping from Hutchence towards the end? Coming across as more Vanilla Ice than Eminem. At the very best, Greatest Hits serves as a memorial to an average band in their prime. Some of it is great, but most of it is verging on the generic and unmemorable. Greatest Hits is a real chore to sit through from beginning to end, and I always find myself skipping to the highlights, of which there are very few.