Michael Jackson

by J. Randy Taraborrelli

  LaToya's bedroom was down the hall from Michael's. ‘He makes so much noise,’ she once complained. ‘You hear music in his room when he's trying to create. Or you hear the Three Stooges on TV, and he's up all night, laughing. The light is always on; Michael is forever reading books. You can't get in his room for the books and junk. I feel sorry for the housekeeper.’ Ever the practical jokester, Michael enjoyed hiding bugs and spiders under LaToya's sheets so that she would scream upon finding them. Also, said LaToya, Michael wouldn't think twice about going into anybody's bedroom, opening drawers, and looking inside. He would frequently exasperate his family members by poking his nose into their personal businesses, but he would become extremely upset if anyone ever did such a thing to him.

  Hayvenhurst – unofficially named after the Encino street on which it was located – was the perfect retreat for Michael Jackson. It was certainly a far cry from the modest home in which he had been raised as a small child, and even from the traditional home that had previously been on the property. From the roof of the house, Michael would watch the sunset and the glow of the twinkly white lights that decorated all of the property's trees and outlined the framework of the house.

  Michael Meets with Berry, Again

  On 12 March 1983, the co-management contract Michael Jackson and his brothers had with their father, Joseph Jackson, and with the team of Ron Weisner and Freddy DeMann expired. It was expected that Michael would renegotiate and sign a new deal. However, he was not eager to do it. ‘Let's just wait and see what happens,’ he kept saying when the subject was broached. Michael, now twenty-four years old, had experienced great solo success with Thriller and, as a result, was more confident in his decision-making processes. He had just been presented with a double-platinum award for Thriller at a press conference held at CBS's West Coast offices; he knew how powerful he had become in the record industry. He no longer felt compelled to follow the lead of his brothers, who had said they wanted to continue with Joseph. From this point on, Ron Weisner, Freddy and Joseph would work without a contract while Michael made up his mind how to handle them.

  Certainly, if Joseph wanted to continue managing Michael's career, he was not scoring any points by mistreating Katherine. Michael had witnessed a great deal of domestic heartbreak in recent years and found it impossible to separate the man he held responsible for it from the one who managed him. He was beginning to contemplate his options. ‘Why does Joseph have to be in the picture at all?’ he wondered. ‘Is it because he's my father? Well, that's not good enough.’

  Michael was also still troubled by a letter Joseph had written to Ron and Freddy back in 1980. In it, he assailed the managers for spending too much time on Michael's career and not enough on that of his other sons. Joseph probably did not expect the letter to get into Michael's hands. If it was up to Joseph, Michael wouldn't even have a successful solo career. Of course, Michael's success with Thriller could actually bode well for the brothers, in terms of work opportunities – as long as Michael remained a part of the group, which was beginning to seem an unlikely proposition, especially after his next television appearance.

  In March – the same month Michael had a number-one hit with ‘Billie Jean’ – Suzanne dePasse was in the final stages of mounting an NBC special 25 called Motown 25: Yesterday, Today and Forever to celebrate Motown's twenty-fifth anniversary. Suzanne, president of Motown Productions at this time and Berry Gordy's respected right-hand woman, expected all of the former Motown stars, some of whom had left the company acrimoniously, to reunite for this one evening to pay tribute to fifty-four-year-old Berry, and acknowledge his impact on their lives and careers.

  Suzanne did not find it easy obtaining commitments from the artists. For instance, it had been her idea to reunite Diana Ross and The Supremes, thirteen years after that group disbanded. But Diana, now an RCA recording artist, hadn't seen Berry since she left Motown, wasn't sure how she felt about him, and decided not to cooperate. Her decision put a proposed Supremes reunion segment in jeopardy. It was decided that there would, instead, be a reunion of Michael Jackson and The Jackson 5, including brother Jermaine, who had not performed with the group since 1975. All of the brothers agreed that it would be an excellent idea to have a reunion for Motown 25 – all, that is, except for Michael.

  First of all, Michael did not want to appear on a television programme. The reason he so enjoyed making music videos was because, in that format, he could have complete control over the final product. Every aspect of his performance could be perfected – either by multiple takes or by careful editing. Performing ‘live’ for a studio audience on a programme that would be taped for later television broadcast was a risky proposition. He would not have as much control as he felt he needed in order to duplicate the quality of his video work. No matter how he did it on television, there was no way it would be as… magical.

  Also playing a large part in Michael's lack of interest in Motown 25 was that working with his brothers again, even if for a national, prime-time audience, wasn't as appealing to him as it was to the rest of the family. For years he had depended on the Jacksons for love, support and even professional status. However, recently he had begun to break away – first, emotionally by distancing himself from them and then, professionally, by out-scaling their success with his own. He never actually made an announcement that he was leaving the group, but Michael definitely no longer wanted to be perceived as one of The Jacksons.

  Beyond that, Michael had ambivalent feelings about Berry. He hadn't forgotten the meeting they had had in 1975. Berry had promised that he would do nothing to hurt the Jackson family. However, he then seemed to encourage Michael's favourite brother, Jermaine, to leave the group. It was a bit more complicated, but that's the way Michael chose to remember it. He also felt that Motown had, as he put it, played ‘hard ball’ by preventing him and his brothers from using the name ‘Jackson 5’ at CBS. In a sense, Michael had unfinished business with Berry and, like Diana Ross, was unsure about participating in a tribute to him.

  It was no surprise that Joseph thought the idea of a reunion was a good one. For him, it wasn't that he cared to pay tribute to Berry Gordy (not likely!) but that he saw an opportunity to present the family singing group in the way he always believed they should be presented: as a united front, brothers till the end. Joseph also saw an opportunity to parlay the group's reunion into a major, money-making tour. The idea was sure to make Michael shudder, however Joseph was considering it, just the same. ‘He'll do what I tell him to do,’ Joseph said, confidentially. As usual, though, he had underestimated his son. Disregarding Joseph's wishes, Michael discussed the matter with his other managers, Ron Weisner and Freddy DeMann and, also, his attorney, John Branca. He then decided that he wasn't going to appear on the programme.

  Berry was fairly blasé about the reluctance of some former Motown stars to pay homage to him. Even Marvin Gaye, his former brother-in-law, had said he would not appear. ‘It's gonna be a great special anyway,’ Berry said. ‘Oh yeah?’ Suzanne dePasse argued. ‘Without Diana Ross and Michael Jackson, what kind of special do we have? We got DeBarge. We got High Inergy. [Both were minor Motown acts.] You have got to talk to these people.’

  Berry telephoned Diana; after their discussion, she agreed that she would appear on the programme. Marvin Gaye eventually made the same commitment. However, Michael was still a hold-out.

  One night, while Michael was editing a special mix of ‘Billie Jean’ in a Motown recording studio (which he had leased for the session), Berry decided to show up at the session, unannounced. At first, Michael was flabbergasted to see Berry, but he quickly regained his composure. Berry meant a lot to Michael, despite whatever had happened in the past. At one point, he actually wished that Berry was his father instead of Joseph. The truth is, business complications aside, Berry was always personally kind to Michael, which couldn't always be said about Joseph. Berry also had great respect for Michael, which, again, couldn't always be said about Joseph. Seeing Berry
once again felt good to Michael, his smiling face a reminder of some good times at the beginning, at Motown.

  Sitting next to him at the control board, Berry asked Michael why he would not appear on the Motown 25 broadcast. Michael explained why he disliked performing on television, but he did not offer his reservations regarding his brothers, or even Motown. Finally, the two began discussing old times at the company, and it was clear that Michael still felt a kinship to his past there. Still, he really didn't want to perform – unless he could get something out of it for himself. Why not? Everyone else was getting something out of it: Berry was getting a tribute; the brothers, a reunion; Joseph, his way; the network, big ratings… why not something for Michael? ‘Listen, if I do this thing, I want to have a solo spot,’ Michael told Berry.

  ‘Hey, man, that's cool,’ Berry said eagerly. ‘I want you to have that, too.’

  Berry assumed that Michael was talking about singing one of his Motown solo recordings, such as ‘Got to be There’ or ‘Ben’. Berry began rattling off a list of the solo songs. He even mentioned ‘Never Can Say Goodbye’, which, of course, was not a solo recording. However, to Berry, who was never much for the details of Motown history, they were all the same: hits.

  Michael shook his head. ‘No, Berry,’ he said, firmly, ‘I want to do “Billie Jean”.’

  Berry started chewing on his tongue, as he always does when he's deep in thought. He explained that the special was a celebration of Motown and since ‘Billie Jean’ had been recorded for CBS, it made no sense to have him perform it on the programme.

  Michael told Berry that if he couldn't do ‘Billie Jean’, he would simply not appear on the show. He wanted to prove that, as good as the classic Motown hits were, he had been able to come up with a song that was, arguably, even better. Though he'd never been sure it was a good career move for the Jacksons to leave the company that had made them world-famous, it turned out that it was the best thing that could have happened to him and to his brothers. Now, he wanted the public to see his growth. He also wanted to promote ‘Billie Jean’, which was in the Top Ten and didn't really need it, but why not? Of course, he also wanted ‘his way’.

  ‘I don't know about “Billie Jean”,’ Berry said, stalling. ‘It doesn't seem right to me.’

  ‘Well, then, Berry, I'm sorry…’

  There was a moment of silence.

  ‘Okay,’ Berry agreed with a grin. ‘It's “Billie Jean”. Hey, what the hell, I love that song.’

  ‘Oh, and I want to have final edit on the videotape of the song before it's broadcast,’ Michael added.

  No other artist had made this particular request; most would not have bothered since it was so highly unusual; Berry wasn't sure what to think about it. Motown always liked to have control over final product; it's just the way it had always been. However, things had to change if he wanted Michael aboard.

  ‘Okay,’ Berry concluded with a firm handshake. ‘And you'll do The Jackson 5 reunion, right? 'Cause Jermaine's lookin' forward to it.’

  Michael rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘Yeah, sure. Why not?’

  The two smiled at one another as they rose from their chairs. Michael embraced Berry and whispered something in his ear. Berry left the studio beaming.

  Yesterday, Today and Forever

  It had been years since his last television performance and on 25 March 1983, at the taping of Motown 25: Yesterday, Today and Forever, Michael Jackson looked different: slimmer, almost fragile. His nose was now streamlined and sculpted, a tribute to a twentieth-century Michelangelo – his plastic surgeon. The new face had been skilfully enhanced: almond-shaped eyes outlined in black and lightly shadowed, high cheekbones emphasized by the merest hint of rouge, lips glossed to a subtle sheen. His former Afro hairstyle had been replaced by soft curls which framed his face; two wisps adorned his brow.

  The Jackson 5 reunion went well. By the time they took the stage at the Pasadena Civic Center, the audience had already seen Marvin Gaye, Smokey Robinson and Mary Wells perform. They erupted in applause at the sight of the reunited brothers. For ‘I Want You Back’, Jermaine was back, smiling broadly and standing right next to Michael, in his old position. By the time the Jacksons swung into ‘The Love You Save’, and Randy trotted on stage to join them, the crowd – men in tuxedos, women in evening gowns – were standing and applauding. During ‘I'll Be There’, when Michael and Jermaine shared the spotlight and microphone, the two seemed choked up. Jermaine's eyes welled with tears. Michael draped an arm over his brother's shoulder and the two looked at one another with great warmth. It was an emotion-packed, memorable moment.

  After hugs all around, the other Jacksons left the stage.

  Then, the spotlight found him. It caught the glint of his black sequined jacket with cuffs that matched the silver sequined shirt, the white glitter socks that peeped from beneath the just-above-the-ankle black trousers, the shiny black penny loafers. And of course, there was the single left-handed white glove with its hand-sewn rhinestones.

  Michael thanked the audience. He hesitated, speaking haltingly. ‘I have to say those were the good old days. I love those songs,’ he said of the medley. ‘Those were magic moments with all my brothers – including Jermaine.’ Michael began pacing the stage, his hand in his pocket, talking as though he were just voicing some thoughts that happened to pop into his head, as though he were alone, as though the audience was not there. Actually, he was walking to the side of the stage to sneak the fedora into his hand. ‘But, uh, you know,’ he continued, ‘those were the good songs. I like those songs a lot. But especially, I like’ – he was centre stage by this time, facing the audience – ‘the new songs,’ The audience knew what was coming. They began calling out for ‘Billie Jean’.

  As the funk-infused guitar riff of ‘Billie Jean’ began, Michael went into his routine. He was going to be lip-synching – that was obvious from the first note – but no one watching cared. As the music pulsated, he jammed a black fedora over his eyes and struck a pose – his right hand on his hat, his left leg bent and poised for action. The stance may have been a tribute to Bob Fosse or Sammy Davis, Jr., but Michael imprinted it with his own magic. While most entertainers perform for their audiences, Michael seemed to be performing for himself, tonight. Maybe it was catharsis, his way of dealing with his personal pain, exorcising the demons in his life, coming to terms with the disappointments of the past just as others around him had celebrated it.

  He threw the hat aside with a graceful flourish, the audience went wild.

  He moved constantly. Even when he was standing still, he seemed to be moving.

  Michael's brothers stood in the wings, their mouths open. His parents and sisters sat in the audience, spellbound. ‘He just stole the show,’ Joseph exclaimed to Katherine. ‘That boy just stole the show.’ Berry was also seen standing and applauding, one of the biggest fans in the house.

  ‘Billie Jean is not my lover,’ Michael sang, a pained expression playing on his face. It was a deeply personal song about fathers and sons, about denial, entrapment, and hypocrisy, about coming close to the outer edges of madness.

  The whole of Michael's performance was spellbinding, but during a brief instrumental interlude, he executed a combination of moves that would seal his reputation as a dance legend. He commenced with a series of split-second locking moves and poses before gliding across the stage via his now-famous sleek and graceful moonwalk – a reversed syncopated glide, heading forwards and sliding backwards at the same time. The moonwalk gave way to that equally renowned spin – now refined, after years of practice, to tornado speed – and then, immediately, he was up on his toes. Nobody but Michael Jackson could dance like that, and the audience went wild.

  Michael hadn't invented any of these moves; the poses were modified versions of ‘locking’, a street dance from the 1970s. The moonwalk was a move TV's Soul Train dancers had discarded almost three years earlier. Sammy Davis, Jr., James Brown and Jackie Wilson all used to execute that same spi
n, and going up on the toes is a touch Michael saw Fred Astaire use in his classic films of the 1930s. To combine all those moves, from all of those eras – to take different styles and make them his own – that's Michael Jackson's genius as a dancer and creator.

  Since he was a child and lead singer of The Jackson 5, Michael had possessed a magical ability to move an audience with his singing and dancing. However, somehow tonight, something was different. Tonight, his audience was just as exhilarated by the force of his personality as they were by his voice and footwork. Videotapes of Michael's performance do not begin to capture the pandemonium his act generated that evening. The few minutes Michael spent onstage alone at the Pasadena Civic Center would add up to the performance of his career. After this evening, his life – both personally and professionally – would never again be the same.

  When it was over, Michael appeared surprised; he took one more step before he realized that the music had stopped – or, perhaps, it was just his own momentum carrying him. A standing ovation rocked the hall. Michael bowed, then straightened and raised his arm. His doe eyes looked straight ahead, his body motionless. He didn't smile or acknowledge the moment which, of course, was part of the act.

  He would later remember that he was disappointed in the performance. He had planned to execute a spin and stop on his toes, suspended. The spin worked, but he didn't stay on his toes as long as he had planned to when he rehearsed in the privacy of his kitchen. Always the perfectionist, he wished he could do it over again. And if this had been a video – not television – he could have. It wasn't such a hot performance, he would remember thinking to himself, despite the crowd's approval.

  Backstage, his brothers awaited him. All five – Jackie, Tito, Jermaine, Marlon and Randy – embraced him as he exited the stage.