I was thinking of selecting “Confide in Me” as my Kylie song for this list, but in the end that just seemed too safe, this indie-approved, unexceptionable Kylie from the point in her career (well, one of the several points) when she decided to try her hand at being a Serious Artist. Remember the label shift to Deconstruction (ha!), the black-and-white cover of Kylie in a trouser suit wearing thick-framed glasses and the title “Kylie Minogue” in restrained Helvetica? Très chic of course, but I still have a soft spot for the original SAW Kylie (note to younger readers: by SAW I mean not the torture porn franchise but “Stock Aitken and Waterman”, ask your mum and dad), the Kylie who was more or less strictly for The Gays, the Kylie I saw perform at Mardi Gras (the only time I ever went, actually). In any case, “Better the Devil You Know” has always been my favourite Kylie song so in the end it was the only possible choice.
I thought then, and still do, that the music is quite striking, especially the harmony. Listening to sequence of contortions required to shift the key from the B flat major of the verse to the distant D flat major of the chorus (”a hundred times or more-ore-ore-ore!”) you’re struck by how weird SAW could actually be at times. No I’m not going to push some “they were more avant-garde than Stockhausen!” line, but for anyone who thinks they made paint-by-numbers pop this is a corrective. There’s an even weirder example in “What Do I Have to Do”, another song from the Rhythm of Love album that marks the high point of the Kylie/SAW collaboration.
I’ve also always found Kylie the most enjoyable to listen to of all the female singers with undeniably weak voices. She seems to find a way of putting her limited instrument to the best possible use, and this song is certainly an example of that.
Mostly, though, this one’s about memories, my first tentative forays into gay life (in Adelaide! the glamorous Mars Bar! but still!), my learning not to be embarrassed by cheesiness. It occurs to me that the latter is a subtext in the whole “rockism” debate, there’s an association for me at least between anti-pop sentiment and the closet. I wonder whether that’s why some gay men become such ardent popists. It certainly always made me sceptical of the young gay men I would meet (they were often my students and would expound this point of view earnestly in their essays) who thought that their interest in indie music was some act of guerilla resistance against hegemonic gay culture. I quite liked hegemonic gay culture because of what it rescued me from, and I still do. And of course I still love Kylie.
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