I never bought Michael Jackson, just like I never bought Ronald
Reagan, Bushes 1 and 2, Clinton and Obama. I think it's because I
gave up television in 1974, and so I was unmoved by the hollow
propaganda spectacles (inaugurations, Motown 25, campaign
infomercials, mtv, etc) that seemed to cause most people to lose their
senses and regard trivial matters like a new dance step as significant
as landing on the moon.
The punks were right - kill your tv.
I'd add "before it kills you."
---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Bob Lefsetz <bob@lefsetz.com>
Date: Thu, Jun 25, 2009 at 9:23 PM
Subject: The King Is Dead
To: mattlove1@gmail.com
He missed his childhood and now he's gonna miss his old age.
How fucked up is that?
Michael Jackson never had a chance. He had to succeed for his family,
his parents' dreams were dependent upon him.
And a boy with that much pressure delivers. He works truly hard, so
he will be loved. That's all Michael Jackson was looking for, love.
He wanted to be accepted. Wanted to be so good that he couldn't be
denied. But you can't change family history, and the public no longer
treats you as human, as an equal, once you break through. People want
to rip you off or tear you down, or shower you in faux love that's
more about their unfulfilled desires than yours. It gets so confusing
that you retreat.
The Jackson 5 broke through at the tail end of the sixties. When both
Motown and Top Forty radio were in decline. But the burst of energy
known as "I Want You Back" could not be denied. And the continuous
singles made Michael Jackson a star.
He sang a horror movie theme. He endured puberty. He was a faded
child star. Then, suddenly, he released a dance floor epic. When
disco was supposedly dead, Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones concocted
a synthesis of rock and beats that could not be denied. Few were
paying attention when "Off The Wall" was released. But over the
course of two years, word spread. This was an album that could be
played endlessly, that made you feel exuberant, totally alive. We
didn't stop listening because we could never get enough.
Then came "Thriller".
There are indelible television moments. When there's only before and
after. Michael Jackson's "Motown 25" moonwalk was one of those
events. Akin to the landing of Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin on the
moon over a decade before. MTV was AOR. Dancing was something you
saw on Broadway. Give Walter Yetnikoff credit, he forced MTV to play
Michael Jackson and not only was the color barrier broken, not only
did videos turn into extravaganzas, the biggest star since the Beatles
was hatched, fifteen years after Michael had first gained public
notoriety, years after he'd started performing. It's "Outliers" in
action. Michael Jackson made it look easy. But there were far in
excess of 10,000 hours involved. When everybody was finally paying
attention, no one else was close. You had newbie bands from the U.K.
who could barely sing, never mind play. And you had this phenomenon
prancing on screen fully realized. It was like the 1927 Yankees
playing a Little League team.
And then it was over.
There was another album with Q, but it was a step down. There's
nowhere to go from the top but down. But Michael Jackson couldn't
accept this. Everything had to be bigger and better. A musician's
career can last forever. But to have those legs, you've got to have
perspective. Existing at the center of the hurricane, unable to step
outside the maelstrom, means that you have no frame of reference.
Not that you can't buy one. Or that hucksters and shysters don't try
to give you one. You trust everyone but know you can trust no one.
You're a party of one. What means so much to everybody else means
almost nothing to you. You don't want to give up your money and fame,
but they don't buy you peace of mind, they don't buy you love, they
don't keep you warm at night.
It's been a sad movie that's been unspooling. We can delineate the
low points. But let's just say it started with plastic surgery and it
ended with court cases. Michael Jackson just didn't think he was good
enough. And when he tried to explain, when he showed up in court in
his pajamas, we didn't want to listen, we didn't want to give him a
break, we just wanted to make fun of him, deride him.
Michael Jackson was an entertainer until the very end.
It's just that his latest gigs were not inside theatres, but played
out on "investigative" television shows and gossip Websites.
Everybody was living off Michael Jackson. He gave good ratings. He
rescued the hoi polloi from a life of drudgery.
But that's all over now.
Sony can be thrilled that the digital marketplace insures there's
endless inventory for those sitting shiva to buy. And they're going
to end up with the Beatles catalog too. But we've lost something with
the passing of Michael Jackson. A belief that America is a
good-hearted place, a supportive place, where we want everybody to
have a good life and be happy.
Wonder about the price of fame? Just look at the miserable Jon &
Kate. Never mind their eight children.
We did this to Michael Jackson. And there wasn't a single person who
could save him. He was too isolated.
We'll remember where we were when we heard the news. But I'd rather
remember that explosion emanating from the radio back in '69.
Michael, we want you back! We want to see you moonwalk one more time!
We want you to sing "Billie Jean"!
Alas, that's impossible.
As he once sang, "now it's much too late for me to take a second look."
The king is dead.
Long live the king.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tqYUTjQIc0&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Ethedailybeast%2Ecom%2Fblogs%2Dand%2Dstories%2F2009%2D06%2D25%2Fremembering%2Dmichael%2Djackson%2F%3Fcid%3Dhp%3Amainpromo1&feature=player_embedded
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