Black History Music Pt. 22
In celebration of Black History Month, the Ear Candy Update intends to celebrate landmark recordings by black artists that have shaped the collective consciousness, mentality, and sense of cool the world over. Next, Michael Jackson's "Thriller."
"Off the Wall" was the catalyst with four Top Ten hits, two of which went to number one. "Thriller" was the daredevil move, the 60-million seller, the hook extravaganza with seven Top Ten hits (there are only nine songs on the album).
It was inescapable.
Mike's at his songwriting peak here. Quincy Jones is Merlin, adding string and horn magic throughout as he guides the young king through his adventure. They left the dance floor disco in the mix and added rock (an Eddie Van Halen solo!), post-disco ferocity, and creamy balladry.
There are no politics here, no social agenda aside from having a good time and dancing your ass off. Everything comes in heavier doses here and in the right way for the right reasons. The rock is heavier, the funk is funkier, the soul is smoother. One could argue the weakest track is the title track, but even that gets a pass because of its groundbreaking video; one you've seen easily two dozen times and has probably convinced you that you were capable of that handclap/zombie slide move. You know? That video that's been viewed more than 640 million times on YouTube.
The paranoia wasn't far behind. Opening track "Wanna Be Startin' Something" tips its hand as Mike's claustrophobia sets in. "Billie Jean," tells us even more about the man's emotional fragility, valid as his concerns might have been.
How about this? Sometimes a record can be monumental and utterly great precisely because it endeavors to have a good time. No great spiritual or politic movement intended and none accepted. No keen observations about the human condition or ghetto journalism. Just a good time. Here we have the revelatory entertainer, the consummate dance machine, and the fucking killer singer. He was indeed all this.
I understand the complications of including any music by Michael Jackson on my list. It's an important issue to address. If we only absorb art from people with flawless personal reputations our collective creative output would be the discography of Lawrence Welk and the films of Doris Day. Our heroes from any field of work are flawed if we dig deep enough. We are humans and by definition, we are faulty and sometimes broken. Our art reflects that.
It was inescapable.
Mike's at his songwriting peak here. Quincy Jones is Merlin, adding string and horn magic throughout as he guides the young king through his adventure. They left the dance floor disco in the mix and added rock (an Eddie Van Halen solo!), post-disco ferocity, and creamy balladry.
There are no politics here, no social agenda aside from having a good time and dancing your ass off. Everything comes in heavier doses here and in the right way for the right reasons. The rock is heavier, the funk is funkier, the soul is smoother. One could argue the weakest track is the title track, but even that gets a pass because of its groundbreaking video; one you've seen easily two dozen times and has probably convinced you that you were capable of that handclap/zombie slide move. You know? That video that's been viewed more than 640 million times on YouTube.
The paranoia wasn't far behind. Opening track "Wanna Be Startin' Something" tips its hand as Mike's claustrophobia sets in. "Billie Jean," tells us even more about the man's emotional fragility, valid as his concerns might have been.
How about this? Sometimes a record can be monumental and utterly great precisely because it endeavors to have a good time. No great spiritual or politic movement intended and none accepted. No keen observations about the human condition or ghetto journalism. Just a good time. Here we have the revelatory entertainer, the consummate dance machine, and the fucking killer singer. He was indeed all this.
I understand the complications of including any music by Michael Jackson on my list. It's an important issue to address. If we only absorb art from people with flawless personal reputations our collective creative output would be the discography of Lawrence Welk and the films of Doris Day. Our heroes from any field of work are flawed if we dig deep enough. We are humans and by definition, we are faulty and sometimes broken. Our art reflects that.
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