by Joseph Vogel
A sweet, playful, melodic showcase, “It’s the Falling in Love” is about two lovers who are afraid of getting closer. While they are deeply in love, they worry about the pain that might result from making themselves vulnerable. “Though I’m trying not to look in your eyes,” Austin sings, “Each time I do they kind of burn right through me.” The lyrics capture the excitement and anticipation of young love. As Jackson sings: “A web of mystery / A possibility of more to come.”
The song rides along a buoyant beat backed by Melvin “Wah Wah” Watson’s funky guitar licks and David Foster and Steve Porcaro’s cool synthesizer effects. The highlight, though, is surely the vocal exchange, including the way the singers seamlessly meld into each other in the harmonies. Recalls Austin of the experience working with Jackson: “His energy was over the moon. This was his renaissance period when he was like a fireball, almost nuclear.”
10. “BURN THIS DISCO OUT”
Written and composed by Rod Temperton
Produced by Quincy Jones
“Burn This Disco Out” brings the album full circle: back to the dance floor. It also symbolically signals the end of the disco era. For the latter half of the seventies, disco reigned supreme over dance music. Most music historians see Off the Wall as the culmination of this period, so it is appropriate that the album ends with a song called “Burn This Disco Out.”
Beginning in the early ’80s, a more minimalist, synth-driven revolution took over popular music, from new wave acts like the Cars, Duran Duran, and Depeche Mode to pop stars like Prince, Madonna, and Jackson. Listening to the end of Off the Wall in contrast to the beginning of Thriller highlights how much changed with sound and production in just a few short years.
For the sound and era it elegized, though, “Burn This Disco Out” goes out with a bang, not a whimper. With its brisk beat, jubilant horns, and soaring vocals, “Burn This Disco Out” dares the listener not to get up and move. It became a big club hit, inspiring DJs to do exactly what the lyrics demand. If it sounds a lot like a Heatwave song, that’s because it is the third and final contribution to the album from Rod Temperton. As with his other songs, Temperton tailored the track to the artist. Jackson “was very rhythmically driven,” said Temperton. “So I tried to write melodies that had a lot of short notes to give him some staccato things he could do…and came up with ‘Burn This Disco Out.’ ”
The song concludes Off the Wall on a high note, serving as Jackson’s exclamation point and mic drop for the disco era. Yet it barely hinted at what was just around the corner.
2
THRILLER
(1982)
I love to create magic—to put together something that’s so unusual, so unexpected that it blows people’s heads off. Something ahead of the times. Five steps ahead of what people are thinking.
—MICHAEL JACKSON, Interview, 1982
Thriller was more than just an album. It was a multimedia cultural phenomenon that has never been matched in scope, before or since. It marked the arrival of a new sound, a new era, a new kind of pop star, and a new kind of pop album. “In today’s world of declining sales and fragmented audiences,” wrote music critic Alan Light, “it is almost impossible to imagine how much this one album dominated and united the culture.” At its peak—1982 to 1984—Thriller crossed every barrier imaginable: it resonated with young and old, black and white, rich and poor. It was embraced by fans of rock as well as fans of R&B; it reached beyond America to the Soviet Union, Europe, Asia, Africa, and just about everywhere in between.
The album contained just nine songs. Yet seven of those nine became Top 10 hits, three became revolutionary music videos, and one, “Billie Jean,” became the most significant televised pop performance since the Beatles’ appearance on Ed Sullivan in 1964. In addition to being the bestselling album of all time globally—with recent estimates at more than sixty-eight million albums sold (110 million counting singles)—it also established an enduring visual iconography that is woven into the fabric of the music. The range of sounds across the songs form the ultimate crossover album, fusing elements of R&B, rock, funk, soul, Afrobeat, jazz, and gospel as they express the tensions and paradoxes of Jackson’s psyche.
Thriller was the album that officially elevated Michael Jackson to the “King of Pop.” At the beginning of the decade he was a rising star, but still overlooked by some critics, peers, and audiences. By 1984, he was without question the biggest entertainer in the world.
THE BLOCKBUSTER ERA
The 1980s saw huge transformations in America. It was a decade of optimism and innovation, as well as excess and disparity. Big changes announced themselves as soon as the decade began. On the day of Ronald Reagan’s inauguration as president in 1980, the Iranian hostage crisis ended with the successful negotiation and release of fifty-two American prisoners. A month later, the US hockey team beat the Soviet Union in the 1980 Winter Olympics, an upset that came to be known as the “Miracle on Ice.” Suddenly, the malaise Jimmy Carter had cited in the late ’70s seemed to be waning; the country was gaining confidence and momentum.
What followed was a massive cultural transformation. Some called this sea change the “Reagan Revolution.” The president did indeed loom large over the decade, from his aggressive Cold War stance to his “trickle-down” tax policies (often referred to as “Reaganomics”) to his call for a return to traditional values (emblemized by his famous “Morning in America” campaign commercial).
But the big changes were more cultural than political. It was about new technologies—including the emergence of Apple computers, VHS home videos, and video games. It was the era of Star Wars, E.T., and Indiana Jones; Dynasty, The Cosby Show, and Cheers; Pac-Man, Rubik’s Cubes, and MTV. It was an era of big movies, big stars, and big hair. The ’80s are sometimes referred to as the Blockbuster era—an era before streaming, social media, and the Internet splintered the culture in countless directions—a time when everyone, for example, might watch the finale of M*A*S*H or the premiere of the short film for “Thriller.”
Because of these collective experiences and touchstones, there is a great deal of nostalgia for the ’80s. Its movies, TV shows, songs, video games, and fads became deeply ingrained in people’s lives and memories. Featured prominently in that pop culture collage was Thriller, the album that revolutionized the music and entertainment industry.
POP RENAISSANCE
After the initial burst of economic bullishness that accompanied Reagan’s election, the United States slipped into a severe recession. By November 1982, the month Thriller was released, unemployment hit a four-decade high (10.8 percent), the highest since the Great Depression. Major record companies—Epic, Atlantic, Capitol, Columbia, Warner Bros.—all laid off employees in the aftermath of the worst year of record sales in history.
Michael Jackson and his creative team were well aware of these challenges facing the industry. “I heard some people say that recorded popular music couldn’t possibly survive the attention that young people were paying to video arcades and home video games,” recalled recording engineer Bruce Swedien. Others pointed to blank cassette tapes that allowed people to record and share music for free (a concern that would be dwarfed by the advent of file sharing in the late ’90s and the early 2000s). Still others felt that popular music as a whole was simply in a creative lull. Disco was fading; classic rock (often referred to as album-oriented rock, or AOR) dominated FM radio, which alienated young people. As The New York Times put it: “There had never been a bleaker year for pop than 1982.”
In spite of these factors, however, the moment was in many ways ripe for a musical revival. The advent of music videos offered artists a new platform to promote records and connect with fans. “Rock videos are firing up a musical revolution,” observed Time in 1983. “Increasingly, and perhaps irreversibly, audiences for American mainstream music will depend, even insist, on each song’s being a full audio
visual confrontation.”
The early ’80s also saw an array of new technologies that impacted the way music was heard and experienced, including hi-fi Walkmans, boom boxes, and car stereos. Music was increasingly portable, allowing for greater privacy, convenience, and choice. Music could accompany working out, driving, or riding the subway. The year 1982 also saw the commercial premiere of the compact disc (CD), though the vast majority of listeners were still listening to vinyl or cassette tapes (the latter of which outsold records by 1983).
The technological changes extended into how music was made. In the studio, synthesizers began replacing traditional instrumentation, creating a dramatic shift in sound. This transformation began in the ’70s, but really blossomed with the emergence of new wave and synth pop. A wide range of artists—from acts like Blondie, Gary Numan, the Cars, and the Police, to electronic pioneers like Kraftwerk, Tangerine Dream, and Yellow Magic Orchestra, to composers like Vangelis and Giorgio Moroder—all contributed to an evolving, vibrant new soundscape.
By the early ’80s, the charts and airwaves were populated with synth pop: Prince, Duran Duran, the Go-Go’s, Cyndi Lauper. Even rock groups like David Bowie, Queen, and Van Halen adapted their music to the new synth-driven sound.
It was Thriller, however, that fundamentally changed the trajectory of popular music. “For a record industry stuck on the border between the ruins of punk and the chic regions of synthesizer pop,” observed Time in 1984, “Thriller was a thorough restoration of confidence, a rejuvenation. Its effect on listeners, especially younger ones, was nearer to a revelation. Thriller brought black music back to mainstream radio, from which it had been effectively banished after ‘restrictive special-format programming’ [a genre-driven radio content philosophy that essentially separated music by race] was introduced in the mid-seventies. Listeners could put more carbonation in the pop and cut their heavy-metal diet with a dose of the fleetest soul around.”
With Jackson leading the way, 1983 and 1984 became watershed years in the history of popular music, which saw racial integration as never before. With the emergence of Prince and Madonna, two superstars would join Jackson as the biggest icons of the ’80s. A new generation of rock was being born, including Talking Heads, R.E.M., U2, Bruce Springsteen, and the Police. And the industry, mired in recession just the year before, was suddenly booming.
“After four years of slumping sales and stagnating sounds,” wrote Time in 1983, “the pop music industry is once again experiencing a welcome artistic and financial bonanza, one that is making this rock ’n’ roll’s headiest season of the decade.” By 1984, the number of albums certified gold was up 25 percent, while Epic celebrated a 500 percent increase in profits. This wasn’t entirely because of Thriller, but, according to former Epic VP Dan Beck, “There is no question that Thriller was the driving force behind what became the hottest span in Epic’s history.”
BLACK AMBITION
People often forget that, before Michael Jackson had to live up to the success of Thriller with every new album, he first had to match Off the Wall. With nearly ten million albums sold by 1982 and four Top 10 hits, that was no easy task.
“In general,” Jackson later wrote in his autobiography, “record companies never believe a new album will do considerably better than the last one you did. They figure you either got lucky last time or the number you last sold is the size of your audience.” Even Jackson’s colleagues tried to temper expectations, reminding him that America was in the midst of a recession and the record industry had declined since Off the Wall.
“I remember being in the studio with Quincy and Rod Temperton while we were working on Thriller,” Jackson recalled in his autobiography. “One of them asked me, ‘If this album doesn’t do as well as Off the Wall, will you be disappointed?’ I remember feeling upset—hurt that the question was even raised. I told them Thriller had to do better than Off the Wall. I admitted that I wanted this album to be the biggest-selling album of all time. They started laughing. It was a seemingly unrealistic thing to want. There were times during the Thriller project when I would get emotional and upset because I couldn’t get the people working with me to see what I saw. That still happens to me sometimes. Often people just don’t see what I see.”
What Jackson envisioned with Thriller was much more than numbers (though he certainly wanted it to outsell Off the Wall). He wanted something truly great. Something with no filler, no B sides. Something bold and innovative, fresh and exciting. Something transformative. If he carried out his vision the way he saw and heard it in his head, he was confident the public would respond.
His ambition, however, went beyond the album. While he still came across as timid and shy, some were beginning to sense the tremendous drive and creative vision burning just beneath the surface—not just in terms of his music, but his entire career. When Jackson hired then-twenty-nine-year-old entertainment attorney John Branca (now co-executor of the artist’s estate) in 1980, he made clear his disappointment at the lack of respect he had received to that point, particularly given Off the Wall’s record-breaking success. He pointed to Rolling Stone’s refusal to put him on the front cover and the Grammy Awards committee’s refusal to even nominate Off the Wall for Album of the Year. That had to change.
In an interview before Off the Wall, the artist opened up about the historical lack of fair compensation and respect accorded black artists. “It’s an awful thing. ’Cause I like the people who really do something; they sweat and work for it and go through hell bringing it about. And the guy who takes it so quick [loudly snaps his fingers], he comes along and gets all the credit for it.” He wanted John Branca to ensure that he got what he worked for and deserved. Branca listened and, soon after, delivered for the artist, renegotiating Jackson’s contract with CBS/Epic so that Jackson owned his master recordings for Off the Wall and Thriller as well as all future albums. He also secured for him the highest royalty rate in the industry at 37 percent. In addition, in 1980, Branca helped Jackson create the Mijac Music catalog, and the artist began accumulating an impressive portfolio of iconic songs, including hits by Ray Charles, Jackie Wilson, Kenneth Gamble and Leon Huff, and the entire catalog of Sly Stone (Jackson’s purchase of the Beatles catalog came later and is discussed in chapter 3).
More broadly, though, he communicated to Branca his overarching vision for his career: first, he wanted to be the “biggest star in show business,” and second, he wanted to be the highest-paid recording artist. He told Branca that the magazines, radio stations, networks, and awards shows that had snubbed him would soon regret it. He refused to be pigeonholed or marginalized. His next solo album, he declared, would not be the bestselling album by a black artist. It would be the bestselling album by any artist. More than Elvis; more than the Beatles; more than anyone of any race.
CAN YOU FEEL IT
His trial run was Triumph. Often forgotten in the shadows of Off the Wall and Thriller, Triumph represents the last real collaborative album by the Jacksons (their last official album was 1984’s Victory, but by that time they rarely worked together in the studio, instead developing and submitting songs individually).
Participating on the record was a difficult decision for Michael. He cared about his family and wanted to be a team player; he was also proud of what they had established as a group with Destiny, and believed they could do something even better, given the opportunity. But after tasting life outside the group—first with his part in The Wiz and then with Off the Wall—he was anxious to continue charting his own path.
In 1980, Jackson was a paradoxical figure—on the one hand, brimming with confidence, creativity, and energy; on the other hand, still profoundly lonely and increasingly given to seclusion. His favorite words were magic and escapism. When asked in a 1980 interview if he thought it was possible to appreciate escapism a little too much, Jackson answered, “No, I don’t….Escapism and wonder is influence. It
makes you feel good, and that allows you to do things. Like when I’m forty thousand feet in the air in a jumbo jet at night and it’s dawn. Everybody on the plane is asleep, and here I am in the cockpit with the pilots because they let me come up there with them. It’s just incredible seeing a sunrise and being up there with it. Pilots tell me, ‘I wish there were no such thing as having to go down and reload with fuel. I wish I could stay up here forever. Forever.’ And I totally understand what they mean. When I’m into forty thousand people, it’s so easy. Nothing can harm me when I’m onstage—nothing. That’s really me. That’s what I’m here to do.”
Around this time, he purchased his family’s Hayvenhurst home and turned it into what Time described as a “cross between a vest-pocket Disneyland and Citizen Kane’s Xanadu in suburbia.” It included a miniature zoo, exotic flowers, statues, water fountains, a movie theater, and, eventually, a recording studio. “I’m putting all this stuff in,” Jackson told Rolling Stone, “so I will never have to leave and go out there.” Outside the gates was a world he feared and distrusted. But inside was a magical kingdom all his own.
In the fall of 1980, actress Jane Fonda invited the artist to spend time with her on the set of On Golden Pond in New Hampshire. Jackson stayed for more than a week and left a deep impression on Fonda. “His intelligence is instinctual and emotional, like a child’s,” she observed. “If any artist loses that childlikeness, you lose a lot of creative juice. So Michael creates around himself a world that protects his creativity.” Jane Fonda also introduced Michael to her father, legendary actor Henry Fonda, who quickly took to Jackson and even taught him how to fish. “Dad was also painfully self-conscious and shy in life,” Jane observed, “and he really only felt comfortable when he was behind the mask of a character. He could liberate himself when he was being someone else. That’s a lot like Michael. In some ways, Michael reminds me of the walking wounded. He’s an extremely fragile person.”