George Michael was terrified. It was 1987, and he was currently the biggest pop star on the planet, but he was also a man trying to outrun his own "teenybopper" shadow. He’d just ditched the short shorts of Wham! and was knee-deep in the Faith sessions at PUK Studios in Denmark. While he was working on a track that was, in his own words, going "disastrously," something else shifted. He sat down and, in a sudden burst of clarity, wrote George Michael One More Try from start to finish.
The whole process—writing, recording, and finishing—took just eight hours.
Most people look at this song now and see a classic 80s ballad, the kind of track that plays over the speakers at a quiet CVS at 2:00 AM. But back then? This was a massive gamble. We’re talking about a song that is almost six minutes long. In the world of 1988 radio, six minutes was an eternity. Programmers hated long songs. They wanted three-minute bops they could sandwich between commercials for hairspray and New Coke. Yet, George insisted.
The "Teacher" and the Fear of Falling
If you listen to the lyrics, there's this recurring address to a "Teacher." For years, fans have debated if George was talking about a literal school teacher or a metaphor. Honestly, it’s pretty clearly the latter. The narrator is basically treating a new lover as a mentor in a class he doesn't want to attend.
He’s been burned. Badly.
The line "Because there ain't no joy for an uptown boy whose teacher has told him goodbye" is kinda clunky if you read it on paper, but when he sings it? Man, it hits. It’s a song about the specific brand of paralysis that comes when you’re standing on the edge of a new relationship and all you can think about is the person who wrecked you last time.
What’s wild is that George played almost everything on this track. He wasn't just the voice; he was the architect. He played the keyboards and the bass, working alongside Chris Cameron to create that gospel-infused, minimalist atmosphere. It doesn't have a big, crashing 80s drum fill. It’s sparse. It’s cold.
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Breaking Barriers on the Charts
You’ve gotta understand how rare the chart performance for George Michael One More Try actually was. It didn't just hit number one on the Billboard Hot 100. It did a triple-sweep:
- Billboard Hot 100 (The big one)
- Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs (Then called Hot Black Singles)
- Adult Contemporary
George was the last white male artist to hit #1 on the R&B chart for nearly twenty years, until Robin Thicke did it in 2007. That says a lot about the "soul" he was pouring into these tracks. He wasn't just a white guy doing a karaoke version of R&B; he was channelling something authentic that the R&B community actually respected.
That Blue-Grey Loneliness: The Music Video
The video is just George in a room. That’s it. Directed by Tony Scott—the same guy who did Top Gun—it’s a masterclass in "less is more."
There’s a long, unbroken shot at the beginning that lasts over two minutes. No cuts. Just George in a derelict hotel (The Carrington in Australia), looking out a window at a weird, cold blue light. There’s a moment where he tries to draw a heart on a glass door and just... stops. He can't finish the shape. It’s subtle, but it perfectly mirrors the lyrical hesitation of the song.
Everything in that room is draped in cloth, like a house where someone died and the furniture has been covered up to keep the dust off. It’s a visual representation of a man who has "shut down" his heart for the season.
Why It Still Matters in 2026
We live in an era of 2-minute "TikTok songs" designed for maximum replayability. George Michael One More Try is the exact opposite of that. It demands you sit there for six minutes and feel miserable with him.
The song ends on a cliffhanger. He spends the whole track saying "let me go" and "I don't want to learn," but the very last line is "Maybe just one more try." It’s the moment of surrender. It’s the realization that as much as being alone protects you from pain, it also freezes you to death.
Actionable Insights for the George Michael Superfan:
- Listen to the 1993 Gospel Version: If you think the studio version is soulful, find the "Concert of Hope" live recording from Wembley. It turns the song into a full-blown spiritual experience.
- Check out the B-Side: The original 7-inch featured "Look at Your Hands," a much more aggressive track about domestic issues that shows the flip side of the Faith era.
- Appreciate the Mic: George used a Neumann U49 microphone for this recording, which he loved so much he actually bought it from the studio and took it to every session for the rest of his career. That’s why his vocals from this era have that specific, "in-your-ear" warmth.
If you’re revisiting the Faith album, don't just skip to the title track. Sit with the "Teacher" for a bit. It’s arguably the most honest thing he ever put to tape.
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To dive deeper into the technical side of George's production, you should look into how he moved away from the Mitsubishi digital recorders to the RADAR system during his later sessions to capture a "warmer" sound than the harsh digital tones of the late 80s.