What flashed through your mind in the moment when you first heard about Michael Jackson's death? Before the psychologists, professional and amateur, drew the comparisons between him and Elvis, another musical king with a Christ complex who built an enclosed world for himself to avoid dealing with reality? Before conspiracy theorists started floating theories of drug overdose, suicide, murder or feigned death? Before pundits started recounting the tales of plastic surgery, molestation and megalomania? Before the crocodile tears and official press statements of countless current and former celebrities?
What did you think in that split second when you heard the news and said, "Really? Michael Jackson?" I'd like to think we all flashed back to a moment when he moved us with his talents rather than titillating and repulsing us with his idiosyncrasies. Maybe, depending on how old you are, you thought of seeing the Jackson 5 performing on the Ed Sullivan show when "I Want You Back" first broke them nationally. Or of hearing a newly mature Michael belt out "Dancing Machine" with his brothers. Maybe your Michael Jackson Moment came when "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" saturated the airwaves at the tail end of the disco era, or when the 14-minute "Thriller" video got played every hour on the hour on MTV, ending once and for all the accusations of racism at the music channel.
The moment that sprung from my memory banks when I heard the news took place in the spring of 1983. I was not quite 14; Thriller had already fallen from the top spot on the Billboard charts; and Michael Jackson was performing with his brothers on a televised tribute to the 25th anniversary of Motown Records, the label on which they'd gotten their start. The Jacksons performed a brilliant medley of their early hits, but it was when Michael held the stage alone that he crossed the line from superstardom into the rarefied air of those few who have created a pop culture phenomenon.
Michael did the moonwalk on stage that night. With a quarter century's hindsight, it's almost impossible to convey just how astounding, how jaw-dropping that single moment was. I'd never seen anything like it before, and I can imagine that most of the viewing audience had never seen anything like it either. I recorded the program on my VCR (this is decades before DVR or Tivo or YouTube, mind you), and watched it incessantly for weeks afterward. How did he do that? How could he move that way? I tried, unsuccessfully, to moonwalk myself -- I'm still pretty bad at it. I dragged my classic rock-loving friends over to watch it; they claimed indifference, though to this day I still think they were faking it.
Apparently, the rest of the country felt the way I did. Thriller shot back to #1 on the charts, where it stayed for most of the next eight months, becoming the biggest selling album of all time in the process. For the next year or so, Michael was everywhere -- his dance moves, his red leather jackets, his sequined gloves, his falsetto "ah-HEEEE-heee"s -- until even the most ardent MJ fans started to get a little sick of him.
Michael had plenty of great moments after that Everest of a career peak. "We Are The World," "Man In The Mirror," "Smooth Criminal," "Black Or White," "Scream." Live performances where he could still sing and move with the greatest performers of the century. But eventually, as his personality disintegrated, the music suffered as well. The hits kept coming, kind of, but if you're anything like me, it's hard to remember the last time you really cared about a new Michael Jackson record. If I heard a single track from his last studio album, 2001's Invincible, I can't recall it. The stuff I heard was good -- most of it, at least -- but it had stopped being undeniable. It didn't grab you by the collar the way "Billie Jean" or "Rock With You" did, almost forcing you to pay attention.
And of course there was the amazing shrinking nose, lightened skin and straightened hair. The parasols and surgical masks. The accusations and trials. The closing of Neverland. The relocation to Bahrain. Moments that will be shoved and re-shoved in our faces for the foreseeable future as the 24-hour news machine looks for more sordid images to regurgitate in order to make us pay attention.
But I hope that in our mind's eyes, somewhere behind the images of the weird, pajama-clad, not-quite-human latter-day Michael Jackson, we'll be able to hold onto those memories of when the guy made magic. Those moments when he scaled heights we could scarcely even conceive of at the time. The moments that made us feel so burned, and sad, and outraged, when he slipped up and showed us he was human, after all.
Follow Tony Sachs on Twitter: www.twitter.com/RetroManNYC
The guy at the store was like, "We are totally sold out of the Jackson 5, what else do you want?"
The only other music I recalled from the roller skating rink was "Another Brick in the Wall [part whatever]" so I asked for that and the clerk gave me the runaround about not having very many 45s so would I like to buy an entire album and I was too terrified to say anything besides "Yeah" and so that's how I ended up with Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" (yes I know that the song I wanted is on "The Wall" but I couldn't afford that double LP, if the jerky clerk even offered it to me).
I can't lie: I really got into the Floyd album, which is probably why I ultimately became a stoner. But my love for the Jackson 5 never faded and when Thriller came out you can bet your ass that I was the first person in line, and assertive enough to get exactly what I came to the record store to buy,
It was 1984; I was eight years old.
I stopped being a fan of his music in the late 90s (I hated Man in the Mirror).
But he'll always have a special place in my heart.
I'm working on a piece about MJ's style. Would love to interview you about your MJ sighting in Encino. If you're willing, write me at hilary_elkins@condenast.com. thanks.
My Michael Jackson moment took place in Haiti. I was there on vacation in the early 80's and I happened to be in a little neighborhood near Port-au-Prince called Bizoton with a Haitian friend. We stopped at an outdoor club (we were on a break from an all night Vodou ceremony) and danced to "Rock with You". It was a magical time and I was so happy that Michael Jackson was so big in Haiti.
God bless him.
P.S. I have never since than received "cool points".
I can't say I followed Michael as a huge fan or anything, but I developed a tremendous respect for his work.
I'll be dumping a Pepsi on the ground every day for a long time. Godspeed, King of Pop!
I remember the 1984 Grammy Awards... I was in 4th grade, and my daddy woke me up to watch Michael do the Moonwalk across the stage. We didn't have cable service way out in the sticks where I lived, so to get to see him do the move that all my city friends were gushing about was pleasure beyond measure.
I remember sitting on the playground with my friends listening to Thriller, PYT, and Billie Jean over, and over, and over again. When we moved during Christmas to a new school, it was my knowledge of his songs that helped me make friends in this new strange place.
Those are but a few times Michael's music touched my life... it will be strange knowing he is no longer in our world.
But I remember at age 19 watching the brand new "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough" video in my college apt. with 10 other friends on a Friday night - even though we thought we were too cool for pop - we all stopped in our tracks to watch. Everyone was dancing - we girls were shreaking! I remember the goosebumps!
Michael, I will miss you so much. You were so much a part of us. Thank you for all they joy you gave us - for giving us your very best.