He stepped up to the microphone. He didn't warm up. He wanted the raw, unvarnished emotion of the moment.
"I'm gonna wake you up..." Bono sang, his voice cracking slightly with genuine emotion. "I'm gonna wake you up, black dog!" Michael Hutchence feat Bono - Slideaway (NEW)
It was ghostly. Hearing his friend's voice, so vibrant yet so heavy with the premonition of his own end, struck Bono like a physical blow. For a moment, the U2 frontman just stood there, letting the music wash over him. The track was driven by a trip-hop beat, a pulsating bassline, and a melancholic guitar that sounded like crying. He stepped up to the microphone
Producer Andy Gill knew there was only one person who could fill that space. He picked up the phone and called Dublin. "I'm gonna wake you up
Michael Hutchence had been gone for two years. The shockwaves of his sudden passing in a Sydney hotel room in 1997 had settled into a dull, permanent ache for those who loved him. He left behind a vault of unfinished solo work—songs that captured a man trying to shed the skin of the leather-clad INXS rock god to reveal something raw, electronic, and deeply personal.
Bono didn’t hesitate. Michael hadn't just been a peer; he had been a brother in arms. They were two of the biggest frontmen on the planet in the 1980s and 90s, bonded by the unique, isolating experience of standing at the center of a hurricane. They had shared late nights, philosophical debates, laughter, and the relentless pressure of the spotlight. When Michael died, a piece of that era died with him.
As Michael’s recorded voice pleaded to slide away, Bono closed his eyes and began to improvise a response. His voice climbed into that famous, passionate register, cutting through the dark atmosphere of the track like a searchlight.