INXS...IN HELL?

Friends, we’ve got trouble. Trouble right here in the U.S.A. that rhymes with “well?”and sounds like HELL. Thirty years ago, we were warned by God-fearing people that rock was the devil’s music. Lately, we’ve been reminded—thank God!—that rock still is the devil’s music. I therefore consider it my duty as a Christian to forewarn the hapless naive publicfriends!—against any and all rock bands congressing with Satan and his works.

With nothing more or less than salvation of souls paramount in my brain, I met INXS’s lead singer,

Michael Hutchence, sort of a gangly Little Lord Fauntleroy/enfant terrible. Right off, I could tell he was a child of the Lord, notwithstanding his tight black leather trousers and gauzy oversized white blouson, topped with a floppy black velvet jacket. And despite the fact Mr. Hutchence has been compared to an awesome composite of Mick Jagger, Jim Morrison (“The Liz” to his close friends) and Morrissey of the Smiths, he could not have been a more sincere, helpful representative of the Australian Rock Renaissance. In fact, he very charmingly reminded me of my favorite William Blake poem,

“The Angel”:

I asked a thief to steal me a peach: