Off The Wall
Michael Jackson has gone on.
Every so often a celebrity's passing seems particularly significant, and MJ's affected me deeply. One of the first records I ever owned, at nine years old, was "Off The Wall." I loved looking at the album cover, Michael's smile, his eyes. Today I looked at a picture of the Jackson 5 and there those eyes were, peering out from a little boy's face, the youngest one in the middle. His brothers' eyes look alive; Michael's look spirited.
When I listened, I was fascinated by who I thought Michael Jackson was, trying, as we do, to figure out this handsome young singer by his lyrics, his picture, his rhythmic soul. "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" might just be the best first song of any album (as we like to say so much in our culture), ever. It is impossible not to dance when that song drops, as it does in toto, when Michael's "whoo!" erupts. It makes me, to this day, right now, want to emerge upward, out of my skin and into an ether of joy. I want to be light, happy, smiling like he is on the album cover. But then "She's Out Of My Life" was so touching, so sincere, I felt I knew another side of him, like I understood something of his soul. Even my nine year-old ears could hear the suffering, the sincerity. It was mine too.
It was in him. I can see it in his child eyes, and hear it in his voice. I imagine everyone could. We watched this precocious boy evolve, watched him move from child star survivor to defining adolescent to bizarre adulthood. We thought we knew him, and sometimes, maybe we did. Other times, though, he remained a mystery, and as we tried to look for clues to later behavior we didn't understand--his face, his skin color, his antics--he moved further from us. But the music is there.
Thinking on it now, I will miss his quirky, old-style celebrity oddball antics. I remember hearing him say in an interview that, as an artist, he included his body and style among the things he might alter for affect. I thought, why not? Why must we judge him so harshly if this is what he wants to do with himself? It's because we assumed something about his soul, its trouble, that made us deem these eccentricities, well, off the wall. (See: friendship with Elizabeth Taylor.)
"Livin crazy, that's the only way." I wish we lived more by this advice. I wish I lived more by this advice. I already miss Michael Jackson's strangeness because, well, we need strangeness in this world. Yes, we might not understand it, and we might ridicule it, but power to the people who are courageous enough to live in the face of all that scorn and propriety. Power to the eccentrics who can buck trends, buck systems and thereby exist as brave paragons for individuality. For freedom.
Was Michael free? I know he wanted to be. His is a fascinating life precisely because of this: his desire to be free, how we heard and saw moments of its realization, and all the ways in which he wasn't free, trapped in a body, a culture, a history.
I will never forget watching the video for "Thriller," and the hackles-raising excitement I felt listening to Vincent Price's laugh at the end. I will never forget watching Michael Jackson moonwalk on the Motown 25th anniversary telecast, the way everybody--and I mean everybody--was trying to do it at my school the next day, and all the days after. That one dance move was a cultural phenomenon for years. I had a friend who could do it, not poorly like the rest of us, but well, the way it looked like gliding, as if the floor were a conveyor belt, and we'd ask him to do it again and again and again. "C'mon Mike, moonwalk."
The group dances, the "competition" with Prince, the glove, the crotch grab, the mystique. The fucking mystique. Sure, in his last years Michael was pretty hard for any of us to understand. I'd say most of us stopped trying, and fell back into the child star-troubled childhood-celebrity madness understanding. But we did, sometimes, think we knew him, think we understood, and maybe we never really did. His mystery makes his passing more affecting, because there's so much we couldn't know, let alone understand. All I know--and my heart registered a poignant thud when I learned of his death--is he played a big part in my life, especially my childhood. His music still makes me happy, and it makes me want to dance.
Michael Jackson's passing made me aware of my own mortality. Not just to think of it, but to feel it. I realize that's why certain deaths, celebrity or otherwise, are affecting: We are here together only for so long.
Michael: I don't know what your life was really like, but man, you sure influenced my space. Thank you, Michael Jackson. Rest easy, dancer. You're free.
***
Off The Wall
(Written and composed by Rod Temperton, 1979, whom I'd also like to thank.)
When the world is on your shoulder
Gotta straighten up your act and boogie down
If you can't hang with the feeling
Then there ain't no room for you in this part of town
cause we're the party people night and day
Livin crazy that's the only way
So tonight gotta leave that nine to five up on the shelf
And just enjoy yourself
Groove, let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain't so bad at all
If you live it off the wall
Life ain't so bad at all
Live your life off the wall
You can shout out all you want to
cause there ain't no sin in folks all getting loud
If you take the chance and do it
Then there ain't no one who's gonna put you down
cause were the party people night and day
Livin crazy that's the only way
So tonight gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf
And just enjoy yourself
C'mon and groove, and let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain't so bad at all
If you live it off the wall
Life ain't so bad at all
Live your life off the wall
Do what you want to do
There ain't no rules its up to you
It's time to come alive
And party on right through the night
Gotta hide your inhibitions
Gotta let that fool loose deep inside your soul
Want to see an exhibition
Better do it now before you get to old
cause were the party people night and day
Livin crazy that's the only way
So tonight gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf and just enjoy yourself
C'mon and groove let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain't so bad at all if you live it off the wall
Life ain't so bad at all
Live your life off the wall
So tonight gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf and just enjoy yourself
C'mon and groove let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain't so bad at all if you live it off the wall
Life ain't so bad at all
Live your life off the wall
Every so often a celebrity's passing seems particularly significant, and MJ's affected me deeply. One of the first records I ever owned, at nine years old, was "Off The Wall." I loved looking at the album cover, Michael's smile, his eyes. Today I looked at a picture of the Jackson 5 and there those eyes were, peering out from a little boy's face, the youngest one in the middle. His brothers' eyes look alive; Michael's look spirited.
When I listened, I was fascinated by who I thought Michael Jackson was, trying, as we do, to figure out this handsome young singer by his lyrics, his picture, his rhythmic soul. "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" might just be the best first song of any album (as we like to say so much in our culture), ever. It is impossible not to dance when that song drops, as it does in toto, when Michael's "whoo!" erupts. It makes me, to this day, right now, want to emerge upward, out of my skin and into an ether of joy. I want to be light, happy, smiling like he is on the album cover. But then "She's Out Of My Life" was so touching, so sincere, I felt I knew another side of him, like I understood something of his soul. Even my nine year-old ears could hear the suffering, the sincerity. It was mine too.
It was in him. I can see it in his child eyes, and hear it in his voice. I imagine everyone could. We watched this precocious boy evolve, watched him move from child star survivor to defining adolescent to bizarre adulthood. We thought we knew him, and sometimes, maybe we did. Other times, though, he remained a mystery, and as we tried to look for clues to later behavior we didn't understand--his face, his skin color, his antics--he moved further from us. But the music is there.
Thinking on it now, I will miss his quirky, old-style celebrity oddball antics. I remember hearing him say in an interview that, as an artist, he included his body and style among the things he might alter for affect. I thought, why not? Why must we judge him so harshly if this is what he wants to do with himself? It's because we assumed something about his soul, its trouble, that made us deem these eccentricities, well, off the wall. (See: friendship with Elizabeth Taylor.)
"Livin crazy, that's the only way." I wish we lived more by this advice. I wish I lived more by this advice. I already miss Michael Jackson's strangeness because, well, we need strangeness in this world. Yes, we might not understand it, and we might ridicule it, but power to the people who are courageous enough to live in the face of all that scorn and propriety. Power to the eccentrics who can buck trends, buck systems and thereby exist as brave paragons for individuality. For freedom.
Was Michael free? I know he wanted to be. His is a fascinating life precisely because of this: his desire to be free, how we heard and saw moments of its realization, and all the ways in which he wasn't free, trapped in a body, a culture, a history.
I will never forget watching the video for "Thriller," and the hackles-raising excitement I felt listening to Vincent Price's laugh at the end. I will never forget watching Michael Jackson moonwalk on the Motown 25th anniversary telecast, the way everybody--and I mean everybody--was trying to do it at my school the next day, and all the days after. That one dance move was a cultural phenomenon for years. I had a friend who could do it, not poorly like the rest of us, but well, the way it looked like gliding, as if the floor were a conveyor belt, and we'd ask him to do it again and again and again. "C'mon Mike, moonwalk."
The group dances, the "competition" with Prince, the glove, the crotch grab, the mystique. The fucking mystique. Sure, in his last years Michael was pretty hard for any of us to understand. I'd say most of us stopped trying, and fell back into the child star-troubled childhood-celebrity madness understanding. But we did, sometimes, think we knew him, think we understood, and maybe we never really did. His mystery makes his passing more affecting, because there's so much we couldn't know, let alone understand. All I know--and my heart registered a poignant thud when I learned of his death--is he played a big part in my life, especially my childhood. His music still makes me happy, and it makes me want to dance.
Michael Jackson's passing made me aware of my own mortality. Not just to think of it, but to feel it. I realize that's why certain deaths, celebrity or otherwise, are affecting: We are here together only for so long.
Michael: I don't know what your life was really like, but man, you sure influenced my space. Thank you, Michael Jackson. Rest easy, dancer. You're free.
***
Off The Wall
(Written and composed by Rod Temperton, 1979, whom I'd also like to thank.)
When the world is on your shoulder
Gotta straighten up your act and boogie down
If you can't hang with the feeling
Then there ain't no room for you in this part of town
cause we're the party people night and day
Livin crazy that's the only way
So tonight gotta leave that nine to five up on the shelf
And just enjoy yourself
Groove, let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain't so bad at all
If you live it off the wall
Life ain't so bad at all
Live your life off the wall
You can shout out all you want to
cause there ain't no sin in folks all getting loud
If you take the chance and do it
Then there ain't no one who's gonna put you down
cause were the party people night and day
Livin crazy that's the only way
So tonight gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf
And just enjoy yourself
C'mon and groove, and let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain't so bad at all
If you live it off the wall
Life ain't so bad at all
Live your life off the wall
Do what you want to do
There ain't no rules its up to you
It's time to come alive
And party on right through the night
Gotta hide your inhibitions
Gotta let that fool loose deep inside your soul
Want to see an exhibition
Better do it now before you get to old
cause were the party people night and day
Livin crazy that's the only way
So tonight gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf and just enjoy yourself
C'mon and groove let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain't so bad at all if you live it off the wall
Life ain't so bad at all
Live your life off the wall
So tonight gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf and just enjoy yourself
C'mon and groove let the madness in the music get to you
Life ain't so bad at all if you live it off the wall
Life ain't so bad at all
Live your life off the wall
posted by jdawords at 12:10 PM
3 Comments:
Thanks J .. nicely written!
i understand why people mourn jackson's death but i am surprised at how quickly people forget the allegations that were made and that he paid a huge sum of money to shut up the family that made the allegations.
i grew up in the 80's and i remember him as the king of pop. i liked his music. i pretended to dance like him. i had that stupid red jacket. but i lost all my love for him when the truth about his relationships began to emerge. and as the truth came out it was quickly destroyed by a massive payday. something smells fishy.
and to be honest, i'm also not that caught up in celebrity deaths. it just doesnt do it for me. i never met them. they dont know me. i mourn for their families. but the fact that a celebrity died? eh, there's another one around the corner. although i do have an interesting relationship with death. i guess i'm just hardened to real tragedy as opposed to media-hyped tragedies.
I'm right there with you Jamey.
I keep going back to an afternoon at a friend's house. I was around 7 years old and we were on her bed dancing to the Thriller album. All I remember is the complete rapture moving to that music.
Yesterday I went online and watched the video from "Don't Stop till you get enough". He was so handsome and such a joy to watch. Even now I can be flooded with adoration for him.
Why do we feel justified to lay so much expectation on just one person? I think that he did enough just to be as amazing as he was. It can end there as far as I'm concerned. Rest in peace.
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