As a child of the seventies, but more importantly as a child with a sister nine years older than myself, I was introduced to the Jackson Five at an early age. Off the Wall was the first vinyl album I ever owned (and I have never forgiven the girl who borrowed it & never returned it, or the kindness of my dad in buying a new copy for his inconsolable daughter), and when my sister finally surrendered to my pestering & gave me her copy of ABC, pressed the same year I was born, it was an enormous coup. Kids at my school were loving on the nameless-faceless who did one-hit-wonder disco songs by that time, but I held fast to my adoration for that little kid fronting the band of his brothers, despite the fact that most of my school mates didn’t know who Michael Jackson was in that lull between the J-5 and the blockbuster Thriller. (Got to Be There, anyone? Music and Me? Yes, I have them all, and I still know all the words.)
Regardless of what scandals happened in his personal life, regardless of how you view the individual, Michael Jackson made a contribution to music that transcends whatever weirdness we all might have perceived from the tabloids and the court dates, and truly earned the title King of Pop. While we may never quite get past all the things we’ve heard about him (and I for one just cannot imagine why anyone would ever actually buy the remains of the Elephant Man), my guess is that his music is more important than his freakiness, and all the chairs will continue to empty out in the dance clubs when “Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough” comes on.
by AA @Main