While on tour in the fall of 1993, Jackson called Branca—he wanted to rehire a familiar face to help navigate a treacherous situation and keep an eye on Michael Jackson, Inc. while its chairman was under fire. More specifically, Sony had offered to buy half of ATV for $75 million, and Jackson wanted to know what his onetime dealmaker thought. Branca’s reaction: “Are you crazy, Michael?”41
Relieved, Jackson declined the offer and brought Branca back. The two agreed that, going forward, the lawyer would receive 5 percent of Jackson’s earnings from ATV (years later, when the two parted ways once again, Branca would sell the interest back to Jackson for $12.5 million, a price he believes was about 40 percent below market value).
One of Branca’s first actions was to replace powerhouse criminal attorney Bert Fields, whom he felt had bungled the matter by not settling privately for a much smaller sum early on, with Johnnie Cochran.42 Fields insists he would have let the case go to trial: “I believed Michael was innocent and would be acquitted, and that a huge settlement would be perceived as an admission of guilt and would damage his career.”43
Cochran reportedly took a different view, as did many of Jackson’s advisors and friends—including Lisa Marie Presley, who’d grown close to him. Through a spokesperson, she declined to comment for this book; Cochran passed away in 2005, and his longtime colleague Carl Douglas did not respond to an interview request.
Those who spent time with Jackson say he was generally opposed to settling, but the option gained momentum in his camp as his emotional state deteriorated with every passing day on the road. The singer was in such bad shape by the time the tour rolled into Mexico City that his friend Elizabeth Taylor showed up to retrieve him. “Michael has to go away for a little bit,” she told the Cascios. “He’s not feeling well, and we’re going to get him some help. After the show, he’s getting on the plane and we’re taking him to a safe place.”44
Later that night, Taylor shepherded Jackson onto a private jet bound for London, where he quickly checked into rehab at Charter Nightingale Clinic, and not a moment too soon. When staff at the Hotel Presidente in Mexico City went to clean Jackson’s five-room, $12,000-per-night suite, they reportedly discovered dented walls, vomit-stained carpets, and the words “I love you” scrawled on the furniture and walls. “He’s threatening to kill himself,” said Taylor shortly afterward. “And if he does, his blood will be on all of our hands.”45
With Cochran still in charge of his legal team, Jackson agreed to settle with the Chandlers for about $20 million, the same sum he’d initially rejected.46 Lost earnings and fees associated with canceling the rest of the Dangerous Tour likely cost him at least that much in the short term, and untold millions in the long term.
Many have since argued that settling was the wrong decision, and it certainly appears that way in hindsight. Indeed, the move made Jackson look guilty and opened the door to other accusations, namely the one that led to his 2005 child molestation trial. In that case, California law allowed prosecutors to bring in evidence of prior offenses, but nothing stuck—including testimony from Chandler’s mother—and Jackson was cleared of all charges. But if what Taylor said was true, and if Jackson was indeed suicidal as a result of the charges, the picture becomes cloudier.
What of the Chandlers? Jordan quickly disappeared from public view. And in 2009, less than five months after Jackson’s death, Evan was found dead in his New Jersey apartment with a bullet in his head and a gun in his hand. Reportedly, he was in poor health at the time and had been scheduled to see a blood doctor the day he died. Jersey City police spokesperson Stan Eason left little room for doubt about what had happened: “It’s straightforward. Case closed. It’s suicide.”47
Chapter 13
* * *
HISTORY LESSON
After the Chandler settlement, Michael Jackson returned to Los Angeles ready to put the episode behind him. At least that’s how it seemed to Branca when the two drove to Beverly Hills to look at a pair of mansions in the bluffs above Coldwater Canyon Park.
“This is going to be known as the Second Coming,” Jackson said as they cruised into the hills. “Come on, we’re going to go look at these houses!”1
This was a very different Jackson from the one who’d checked into rehab months earlier—desperation had given way to anger, which then became motivation. “I didn’t feel like this was a guy on the verge,” Branca recalls. “I felt this was a guy who was really pissed off.”
The singer had many reasons to feel that way. He’d been accused of one of the most heinous crimes imaginable; as a consequence, his career as both a performer and a businessman seemed to be on the rocks. Some of his advisors were even recommending he start selling off the crown jewels of his empire. But Branca believed there were better options available for Michael Jackson, Inc.
* * *
In the winter of 1994, Dr. Robotnik crash-landed on Angel Island after a renegade hedgehog wrecked his Death Egg. Concerned for his safety, he enlisted the help of an angry echidna named Knuckles to defend him from the spiny crusader better known as Sonic—and the rivals battled it out as Michael Jackson’s music blared in the background.
At least, that’s what a few video game enthusiasts concluded years after Sonic the Hedgehog 3 for Sega Genesis became available in the United States. Jackson wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the game, but the soundtrack to one of the levels did sound a lot like a sped-up version of his 1991 song “Who Is It.” Following the 1995 debut of the track “Stranger in Moscow,” some noticed a strong similarity to the game’s end credits. Those claims were confirmed during the reporting of this book—both by Jackson’s estate2 and by Brad Buxer, who played in Jackson’s touring band and worked on the game (and is named in its credits).3
The process began in early 1993, when Jackson came to Buxer and informed him that their next project would be composing music for Sonic 3. Though it’s not uncommon for today’s music stars to have a hand in video game soundtracks (electronic producer Skrillex has contributed remixes and original music to a handful of first-person shooters; rapper Jay Z executive-produced NBA 2K13), Jackson’s foray into the game audio world was novel, just as it was when he starred in the 1989 Sega game Moonwalker. Both seemed a logical extension of Jackson’s ambitions.
“I think he just wanted to do everything,” says Buxer, who spent a month with Jackson crafting the tunes for Sega at Record One Studios in Los Angeles. “He always so much wanted to do movies and he was just interested in other platforms to get into musically.”
The game ended up coming out months after the Chandlers went public with their accusations. Many observers still believe Jackson’s name was removed from the credits because Sega didn’t want to be associated with him at that point. In fact, under Jackson’s contract, Sega didn’t have the right to accord credit to the singer without his consent.4
Buxer believes it was Jackson who ultimately decided he didn’t want his name on the game—because of its sound quality. The Genesis console contained a sound chip that wasn’t much better than the apparatus used in the ancient Pac-Man arcade games. Sega’s programmers had spoken to Jackson prior to beginning work on the project, assuring him that the sound quality for this game would be better than their previous games (such as Moonwalker). But the final version of Sonic 3 still wasn’t good enough.
“He was a perfectionist when it came to almost everything,” says Buxer. “And one of those things was sound quality. . . . He didn’t want his name on it because he wasn’t satisfied.” Adds Matt Forger, who was also involved in the project: “Dealing with such requirements was something new to both MJ and Brad, as it was common practice to have unlimited resources when creating new music.”5
Longtime associate Karen Langford gives yet another reason for the exclusion of his name: Sometimes the star didn’t want to record music as Michael Jackson and deal with all the scrutiny that came along with it. From time to time, the King of Pop just wanted to have some fun.6
Jackson
seemed to be enjoying himself outside the studio that year as well. In August of 1994, his mother received a call from her son that she took for one of his typical practical jokes. Michael told her that he’d just married Lisa Marie Presley. Her reply: “No, you did not.”7
But he insisted they were in a hotel suite in the Dominican Republic, where they’d just been declared man and wife. They’d wanted a small, quiet ceremony so that the press wouldn’t find out. Katherine didn’t believe her son was telling the truth until Lisa Marie got on the line.
There were others who shared Katherine’s initial skepticism. Some theorized the marriage was a plot dreamed up by the Church of Scientology, which reportedly counted Presley as a member, to recruit the world’s biggest star8 (subsequent stories say she defected9). Others suggested it was all a public relations move by Jackson; the Los Angeles Times summed it up with the headline “Jackson-Presley Union Sparks Shock, Doubt, Laughs.”10
Some felt the union was very real. “I laughed at the media suggestions that they were ‘faking it’ because we all knew in the family the intensity of their relationship and how they always wanted to be together,” Jermaine wrote. “Michael’s joy couldn’t have been faked.”11 Presley herself later discussed the relationship on Oprah Winfrey’s talk show and confirmed that it was a “consummated” marriage.12
Still, there were other theories. Frank Cascio said Jackson told him he tied the knot “for business reasons.” He’d just partnered with billionaire Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal—whom he’d met through Charles Bobbit, James Brown’s longtime manager—to form a company called Kingdom Entertainment. According to Cascio, Jackson said the Saudi mogul preferred to do business with “family men,” hence his decision to wed Lisa Marie.13
Jackson and Alwaleed later announced their venture at a packed press conference. They spoke of their desire to create a new media empire with plans to branch into what the prince called “diverse family entertainment,” including feature films, hotels, animation, merchandizing, and theme parks. “Until recently, my hectic schedule and outstanding professional commitments left me little time to develop a specific strategy for a fully integrated entertainment company,” Jackson explained. “All that began to change about eighteen months ago, when I first met my friend and partner.”14
Alwaleed invested $20 million in MJJ Music, the joint venture record label formed by Jackson and Sony just a few years earlier. MJJ could also sign new artists—and did, adding girl group Brownstone, as well as 3T, an R&B trio comprised of Tito Jackson’s sons that contributed the track “Didn’t Mean to Hurt You” to the Free Willy soundtrack. The label’s joint venture structure enabled Jackson to split its profits with Sony; for his own records, he also still received his industry-leading artist royalty.15
One of Jackson and Alwaleed’s first dreams was to buy the financially troubled Marvel Comics. With his billionaire friend bringing the bulk of the financing, Jackson believed he could provide the creative brainpower needed to turn some of the company’s more marketable names—Iron Man, Spider-Man, and all of the X-Men, to name a few—into Hollywood blockbusters.16
But complications arose due to Marvel’s bankruptcy proceedings, and Jackson wasn’t able to put a deal together.17 Had he been able to follow through on his instincts and acquire a piece of the company, he would have shared in the profits of the superhero film boom—and, perhaps, in the $4 billion Disney paid for the company in 2009.18 (Through a spokesperson who confirmed “several initial dealings” with Jackson in the mid-1990s, Alwaleed declined to be interviewed for this book.19)
Meanwhile, Branca started looking for ways to create some liquidity for Jackson. To pay the Chandler settlement, the singer had taken out more cash on the credit line he’d opened to fund the initial ATV acquisition, and he needed to start generating more income to keep the debt levels from getting out of hand. After the battering Jackson’s image took in the wake of the Chandler scandal, endorsement deals like the ones he’d signed with Pepsi and ventures like his clothing and shoe lines were no longer likely. And monetizing fame through agreements of that ilk was becoming less fashionable, at least in the music world, as the anti-establishment grunge movement—led by shaggy anti-corporate bands like Pearl Jam and Soundgarden—replaced the glamor and glitz of the late 1980s and early 1990s pop.
Behind-the-scenes deals like Jackson’s proposed investment in Marvel made more sense for the time being, but Jackson’s finances had been badly strained by the events of the previous year. Branca saw an opening with Sony, which was eager to bolster its publishing catalogue and was likely regretting the 1986 sale of CBS Songs for $125 million. He knew that the $75 million the company had offered for half of ATV was simply a starting point.
Branca began negotiating with Sony’s chairman, Mickey Schulhof, to merge Jackson’s catalogue with Sony’s rather than sell it off altogether. This time, Jackson wasn’t in the midst of a potentially career-threatening scandal, giving him the leverage to hammer out a deal with much more favorable terms. The agreement created a 50–50 joint venture called Sony/ATV; the company paid Jackson $115 million for the privilege of merging its less-valuable catalogue with his,20 plus an annual guarantee just shy of $10 million that has since been negotiated upwards.21
More important, the deal established a partnership instead of a sale (in addition, Jackson maintained complete ownership of the copyrights held under Mijac Music, both his compositions and those by other songwriters). In just ten years, Michael Jackson, Inc. had netted over $100 million—and an extremely valuable joint venture—as a result of the ATV purchase.
Before finalizing the agreement with Sony, Branca called Marty Bandier, then chief of rival EMI Publishing, which had been handling the administration of the ATV catalogue, to see if he could get a better offer. But Sony’s proposal was “an incredible deal,’ ” even according to Bandier.
“To sell your copyrights and keep half of them . . . that was a strategic deal that Sony made because they wanted, they understood that they needed to get back in the music publishing business,” he says. “And they made a decision that they might overpay.”22 Adds Sony’s Mottola: “It was a good deal for everybody involved; certainly it was an incredible deal for us.”23
Bandier couldn’t match the offer—that would have entailed giving Jackson half of EMI Publishing, which at that point was worth considerably more than either of the catalogues that formed Sony/ATV—and the two sides worked out a “reasonable” buyout of their agreement. Jackson and Branca also stipulated that Sony couldn’t enter the music publishing business in any other form or capacity besides Sony/ATV, or force Jackson to sell his stake in the venture. That meant Sony was heavily incentivized to help Jackson realize his dream of having the world’s top music publishing company.24
In the long term, the combined entity would grow to be worth billions. And in the short term, though Jackson was just two years removed from the worst ordeal of his personal and professional life, 1995 was shaping up to be one of the most lucrative years of his career.
* * *
In the mid-1990s, hip-hop was in the midst of a journey from the burned-out streets of the South Bronx to the top of the mainstream music world, and the genre found an unlikely champion in Michael Jackson.
Before recording his follow-up to Dangerous, the King of Pop had been paying close attention to the trends in popular music, as was his habit. A young rapper who went by the name Notorious B.I.G. had just released his debut, Ready to Die. Thanks to his knack for capturing the pace of life in Brooklyn’s roughest neighborhoods with just the right mix of humor, bravado, and catchy samples, his singles were creeping up the Billboard charts. Jackson invited him to the recording studio.
“Michael was probably one of the most intuitive, up-to-date artists there was,” recalls Sean “Diddy” Combs, whose Bad Boy Records had released B.I.G.’s debut. “[Jackson] knew hip-hop like he was born in the South Bronx in the eighties. He knew everything that was going on . . . and when I met him and
he wanted to do something with Biggie, it wasn’t anything surprising. Almost every dance he did, it was made up that week. He was strong enough and brave enough to recognize greatness in other forms, and he was great to recognize Biggie.”25
The rapper appeared on the album that would become HIStory: Past, Present and Future: Book I, released in July 1995, as did NBA legend and occasional hip-hop artist Shaquille O’Neal. Their cameos offered moments of levity on an album that mostly focused on heavy subject matter—a rebuttal to the charges Jackson had faced, commentary on the scrutiny under which he lived, and a defense of his very humanity.
The double album consisted of one disc filled with his greatest hits, from “Billie Jean” to “Man in the Mirror,” and another that contained fifteen new songs. None of the fresh material was produced by Quincy Jones or Teddy Riley (the latter initially considered giving Jackson the smash single “No Diggity,” but at the behest of Interscope chief Jimmy Iovine, he decided to have his own group Blackstreet record it instead26). With only a few exceptions, Jackson was the sole credited songwriter and producer on HIStory’s new tracks, most of which were accordingly personal.
“Tired of injustice, tired of the schemes,” he spits on “Scream,” a duet with his sister Janet.27 On the song “D.S.,” in which he references a character named Dom Sheldon (a thinly veiled proxy for Tom Sneddon, the Santa Barbara district attorney who’d authorized the Neverland raid and the strip search of Jackson), the singer insists that “they wanna get my ass dead or alive.”28
The album had plenty of other memorable moments, from the vulnerable, haunting “Stranger in Moscow” to the R. Kelly–penned “You Are Not Alone,” a track whose sound would be replicated ad nauseam during the boy band craze of the late 1990s. But it was the raging rock ballad “They Don’t Care About Us” that drew the most attention, at least at first, and not for the reasons Jackson wanted.
Michael Jackson, Inc. Page 18