Man in the Music

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Man in the Music Page 44

by Joseph Vogel


  After they divorced, Lisa Marie was still “flying all over the world with him for years.” But ultimately, they were both too stubborn to find a way back to each other. In one of their last phone conversations, Lisa Marie could tell Michael was “checking to get a read, he was trying to throw a line out to see if I would bite emotionally and I wouldn’t. I was pretty shut off at that point. I don’t even know how I managed to be like that, but I was.”

  “Don’t Walk Away” captures this powerful blend of emotions. There is a lot of pain packed into it. “See why,” Jackson sings, “All my dreams been broken / I don’t know where we’re going.”

  Most of the track features a single isolated drumbeat and strumming guitar, allowing Jackson’s voice to carry the song. But as the song progresses, the strings add some drama, as Jackson broods, pleads, and grapples with what to do. In the end, he seems to resign himself to letting go, though the final line (“Don’t walk away”) brings him back to where he started, hoping for another chance.

  13. “CRY”

  Written by R. Kelly

  Produced by Michael Jackson and R. Kelly

  “Cry” was one of two songs submitted to Jackson by R&B singer-songwriter R. Kelly for Invincible (the other was “One More Chance,” which was ultimately cut). It follows in the tradition of other R. Kelly ballads, including “I Believe I Can Fly” and “The World’s Greatest.” Yet the tone of “Cry” is a bit different—it is meant to be galvanizing and inspiring, but it is also a lamentation.

  While the song failed to gain traction as a single, the sentiment was certainly relevant to the moment in which it was released. As people tried to make sense of tragedy in the wake of 9/11, “Cry” suggested that we were connected in our grief and suffering.

  Some critics claimed it was too simplistic and messianic, and the lyrics can at times come across that way. But, in essence, the song is about the fragility of life and our collective struggle to keep going. The song begins with a desolate wind blowing and a slow, aching drumbeat. In the verses, Jackson sings of people barely holding on, not knowing when the pain will end; he sings of “stories buried and untold,” of people “hiding the truth”; he sings of illusions and masks (“People laugh when they’re feeling sad”).

  Then, in the chorus, he makes a plea (with his listeners and himself) to somehow overcome life’s trials. What connects us, he suggests, isn’t pretending that pain doesn’t exist, but allowing that pain to make us stronger. As with similar anthems, it takes the choir (symbolizing the strength of the community) to lift him up and provide hope and resolve. The call-and-response at the song’s climax is more subdued than that in “Man in the Mirror” or “Earth Song.” The song can’t match those heights—and perhaps wasn’t intended to. But it does serve as a reminder of Jackson’s lifelong belief in the power of music to “change the world.” “It’s therapeutic,” he explained in a 2001 interview. “It’s something our body has to have, like food. It’s very important to understand the power of music.”

  14. “THE LOST CHILDREN”

  Written by Michael Jackson

  Produced by Michael Jackson

  “The Lost Children” was an easy target for critics, one of whom called it a “creepy, airheaded companion to the pictures of missing kids on milk cartons.” Record executives discouraged its inclusion on Invincible, fearing it would draw attention to Jackson’s past controversies. Yet as with “Little Susie” on HIStory, Jackson fought for the track and won. He understood the label’s concerns; but he also understood his intent, and that was more important to him.

  In the years leading up to Invincible, Jackson was actively engaged in causes related to children’s welfare. He organized charity concerts for child refugees from war-torn Kosovo with Nelson Mandela; he founded a new organization, Heal the Kids, with Rabbi Shmuley Boteach; he gave a speech at Oxford University outlining a Children’s Universal Bill of Rights; he was even working on a book (which was never completed) about the importance of giving children genuine time and attention and retaining childlike attributes as an adult.

  “The Lost Children” was, in essence, his anthem on behalf of all children who were neglected and abandoned, abused and unloved. In his Oxford speech, he explained: “Here is a typical day in America—six youths under the age of twenty will commit suicide, twelve children under the age of twenty will die from firearms—remember this is a day, not a year—399 kids will be arrested for drug abuse, 1,352 babies will be born to teen mothers. This is happening in one of the richest, most developed countries in the history of the world….It is self-evident that children are thundering against the neglect, quaking against the indifference and crying out just to be noticed.”

  Jackson came up with the melody, lyrics, and arrangement of the song and developed it with Brad Buxer. The song beautifully embodies his oft-stated principle that “Melody is king.” A pop waltz, it has a breezy lilt that captures both the joy and ache of childhood. The vocal mostly matches that tone, though the bridge introduces more urgency. “I see the door simply wide open,” he sings, “But no one can find thee.” There’s a lifetime of pain packed into his delivery of that line. While the song is for “all the lost children,” he himself clearly remains one of them. On his prior album, he confessed to be “searching for that world that I come from.” And in interviews he often compared himself to Peter Pan, leader of the Lost Boys.

  If the connection wasn’t explicit enough, Jackson uses a snippet in the song from the “Kick the Can” episode of The Twilight Zone. That show is about a retiree, Charles Whitley, who becomes convinced that he can be young again by recovering his youthful spirit. He gradually persuades many of his fellow Sunnyvale Rest Home residents to follow him (with the exception of his best friend, Ben). Instead of sitting around the retirement home, they go outside and play kick the can at night. The effect is revitalizing. One night, when the nurses go out to find them, they are gone. No one will find them, Ben (the one holdout) realizes. They have miraculously returned to their childhood selves.

  In the extended outro to “The Lost Children,” we hear a fragment of this rumination on “the fragile magic of youth” blended with the voices of Jackson’s actual children.

  15. “WHATEVER HAPPENS”

  Written by Michael Jackson, Teddy Riley, Gil Cang, J. Quay, and Geoffrey Williams

  Produced by Michael Jackson and Teddy Riley

  “Whatever Happens” adds a unique new flavor on the back end of the album. A sultry, Latin-infused rhythm track featuring guitar legend Carlos Santana, the song was widely regarded as one of the best cuts on Invincible. Rolling Stone described it as an “exceptional song” featuring “momentous rhythms, Santana’s passionate interjections and [Jeremy] Lubbock’s wonderfully arranged symphonic sweeps” as Jackson narrates with “a jagged intensity.” “It would’ve made for an inspired choice for a single,” concurred music critic Mike Heyliger, “and could’ve made for an awesome video. It’s got a slow-motion, cinematic feel, Michael’s voice is top-notch, and Carlos Santana comes on board to add a blistering guitar solo. Classic stuff here.”

  Before Jackson’s relationship with Sony unraveled, there were rumors that Jackson planned to perform the song with Santana at the 2002 Grammy Awards. Unfortunately, that never happened. But the song has since taken on a life of its own. Along with “Butterflies” and “You Rock My World,” it is the most streamed song from the album and has been covered multiple times, since Jackson’s death, on television talent shows.

  Jackson was introduced to the song by Teddy Riley. It was originally intended for Mario Vazquez, a new artist signed to Riley’s record label. After Vazquez’s version failed to materialize, Riley reached out to the songwriters—Gil Cang and Geoffrey Williams—to see if he could try it out with Jackson. Cang and Williams leapt at the opportunity and handed the demo over. Riley claimed it was his idea to add
a forty-piece orchestra and bring Carlos Santana onboard. Santana had experienced a sudden resurgence of popularity in the late ’90s, riding the wave of the Latin Explosion. His landmark 1999 album, Supernatural, ended up selling more than thirty million copies. By 2001, Arista was still promoting the record. It made a lot of sense, then—not just artistically but commercially—for Jackson to feature him on Invincible.

  The song is about a relationship in peril, though it is rendered with enough poetic subtlety that the listener must fill in the gaps. In third-person narration, Jackson relays the story of a couple trying, but failing, to understand each other. They still love each other deeply, but something has come between them. According to co-songwriter Gil Cang, “The song is about a girl who discovers that she is pregnant. People mistake the first sentence of the song. It’s actually ‘He gives a nervous smile,’ not ‘He gives another smile.’ ” Jackson, however, actually sings the latter version of the line.

  The mystery within the song harkens back to the evocative ambiguity of “Billie Jean,” though here it is stylized against a Latin backdrop (not only with the guitar fills, but the whistling and percussion). The seemingly resigned and indifferent line at the end of the verses (“Whatever, whatever, whatever”), meanwhile, cleverly leads into the pleading chorus (“Whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand”). It’s a beautiful song about a fraught relationship that ends with the passion and tension still lingering in the air.

  16. “THREATENED”

  Written by Michael Jackson, Rodney Jerkins, Fred Jerkins III, and LaShawn Daniels

  Produced by Michael Jackson and Rodney Jerkins

  “Threatened” is the final installment of Jackson’s career-long forays into the Gothic. Some critics dismissed it as another trivial monster song, yet it may be the most sonically innovative and psychologically compelling track on the album.

  It begins with a brief sampled introduction by Rod Serling, legendary narrator of The Twilight Zone. When the menacing beat hits, Serling’s voice can still be heard in the background. “The major ingredient of any recipe for fear,” he tells us, “is the unknown.” On cue, Jackson arrives, inhabiting the voice of the “monster.” His breathy narration is delivered over a palpable, bone-crunching beat (and tomb-sliding percussion). “I’m the living dead,” he sings in the pre-chorus, “the dark thoughts in your head / I heard just what you said / That’s why you’ve got to be threatened by me.”

  It updates the shapeshifting role he famously played in “Thriller,” but goes deeper into the psychology of horror. As with “Is It Scary,” the song suggests that people feel threatened by him because of what they project on to him. In this way, he is implicating America’s long history of racist (and queer) filters yet also, paradoxically, relishing the role of monster.

  “Threatened” also returns to the technological questions suggested by the opening tracks (and on the cover). It is a sonic Frankenstein—a patchwork of disparate parts reassembled into something strange and new. The final rap from Rod Serling was pieced together (by studio engineer Stuart Brawley) from dozens of Twilight Zone episodes, creating an eerie collage of words turned into sentences. The sound effects—ravens cawing, bells tolling—were also pulled from old horror movies and reappropriated for the song.

  Nothing about the track is natural—everything is synthesized, Pro-Tooled, studio-manipulated. The only authentic element is Jackson’s voice—but even that begins to glitch out in the final minute of the song, subsumed into the machine. It is as if Jackson is dissolving into the mediated sound waves of the recording.

  It’s a bold note to go out on—not only for the album but as the final official statement of Jackson’s career. It is about fear, perceptions, prejudices, identity, technology, and art.

  The song ends with Rod Serling’s provocative conclusion: “What you just witnessed could be the end of a particularly terrifying nightmare. It isn’t; it’s the beginning.”

  EPILOGUE

  THE FINAL YEARS

  Michael Jackson’s final interview took place in the fall of 2007. He was in Brooklyn with his children, where he had agreed to a rare one-on-one exchange and photo shoot with Ebony to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of Thriller. He seemed healthy and happy again. It was nearly a year before he would commit to the fifty-date This Is It concert series at the O2 Arena in London. It was the first time he had spoken at length since his criminal trial concluded in 2005.

  Unlike the 1993 allegations, in the 2005 trial Jackson was forced to fight for his life—not just his reputation. In 2003, Santa Barbara County Attorney Tom Sneddon issued a warrant for his arrest. When the artist arrived at the Santa Barbara Municipal Airport, he was handcuffed and taken to jail, where he was forced to post $3 million in bail.

  Over the next eighteen months, his private life was scrutinized in excruciating detail as his health deteriorated. His trial drew more than two thousand reporters from at least thirty-five countries. At its peak, it garnered more coverage than the Iraq War. By this time, many assumed Jackson was guilty. “America is done with this guy,” proclaimed conservative FOX News host Bill O’Reilly. “He’s a weirdo.”

  The new allegations came about after the controversial documentary Living with Michael Jackson aired on ITV in the United Kingdom and ABC in the United States. Watched by over fifty million people, it provoked an international firestorm. The documentary was overseen by British journalist Martin Bashir, who was given exclusive access to Jackson for eight months. Viewers found the documentary concerning on a number of fronts but perhaps most acutely in response to Jackson openly admitting he still had no issue sharing his bed with children. “When you say ‘bed,’ you’re thinking sexual,” Jackson told Bashir. “It’s not sexual; we’re going to sleep. I tuck them in….It’s very charming, it’s very sweet.”

  Many others, however, did not see it that way. Some were concerned enough to contact the Department of Child and Family Services. A family featured in the film, the Arvizos, publicly defended Jackson in a rebuttal documentary hosted by Maury Povich called Take Two: The Footage You Were Never Meant to See. Several months later, however, their position changed, and in the late summer of 2003 they were interviewed by Sneddon.

  By the mid-2000s, the overwhelming perception among the media and public was that Jackson was guilty. Still, most legal experts saw the second set of allegations as much weaker than the first. Part of this was due to the fact that the family had originally defended the pop star; part of it was because of the strange timeline, which claimed that Jackson only began sexually abusing Gavin after the Living with Michael Jackson documentary aired. But the biggest issue, according to those who covered the trial (and eventually to the jurors), had to do with the credibility of the Arvizo family. In 1998, after being detained with her children on a shoplifting charge, the mother, Janet Arvizo, earned a large settlement by making allegations that she was physically and sexually assaulted in the parking lot of a JCPenney; those allegations were later proven false with video evidence. The Arvizos also had a history of welfare fraud and repeated attempts to seek money and attention from celebrities, including comedians George Lopez, Jay Leno, and Chris Tucker.

  Jackson was introduced to the Arvizos through Jamie Masada, founder of the Laugh Factory comedy club chain. Gavin Arvizo was battling cancer at the time and told Masada one of his dreams was to meet Michael Jackson. Eventually, Jackson called Gavin at the hospital and offered him encouragement. He subsequently invited the family to his Neverland Ranch. In the ensuing months, the Arvizos spent a great deal of time at Neverland, including when Jackson was not staying there.

  Not long after the Arvizos came forward with their allegations in late 2003, Jackson’s homes, as in 1993, were raided in an extensive search carried out by dozens of officers. Boxes of Jackson’s possessions were again hauled away. Nothing incriminating was found, though Sneddon’s team did discover legal adult porn
ographic magazines in Jackson’s home.

  The trial commenced in February 2005. Tom Sneddon led the prosecution team himself, while Jackson’s defense team was led by Tom Mesereau. For observers, the strongest part of the prosecution’s case was Judge Melville’s admittance of prior allegations under California Evidence Code 1108, which allowed Sneddon to use the 1993 case to claim a pattern of abuse with young boys. Admittance of this evidence, however, also allowed the defense to bring in multiple witnesses who had spent time with Jackson as children and testified that nothing sexual ever took place.

  The trial stretched through the spring and into the summer of 2005. It was discussed nearly every night on cable news shows like Larry King Live on CNN and Nancy Grace’s self-titled show on Headline News. Grace believed strongly in Jackson’s guilt. “I just wonder,” she said, “how much money and how much celebrity does it take to make people totally ignore what’s under their nose?…If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it must be a duck!”

  Others, however, saw the case as fundamentally flawed. Wrote Matt Taibbi for Rolling Stone:

  Ostensibly a story about bringing a child molester to justice, the Michael Jackson trial would instead be a kind of homecoming parade of insipid American types: grifters, suckers and no-talent schemers, mired in either outright unemployment…or the bogus non-careers of the information age, looking to cash in any way they can. The MC of the proceedings was District Attorney Tom Sneddon, whose metaphorical role in this American reality show was to represent the mean gray heart of the Nixonian Silent Majority—the bitter mediocrity itching to stick it to anyone who’d ever taken a vacation to Paris. The first month or so of the trial featured perhaps the most compromised collection of prosecution witnesses ever assembled in an American criminal case—almost to a man a group of convicted liars, paid gossip hawkers or worse….In the next six weeks, virtually every piece of his case imploded in open court, and the chief drama of the trial quickly turned into a race to see if the DA could manage to put all of his witnesses on the stand without getting any of them removed from the courthouse in manacles.

 

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