Musings by Domi.

Pardon me for being a little tardy to the party, but better late than never, yeah? October 18,1980 marked the bornday of an underappreciated, fantastically funky LP named “Triumph”---recorded, written, and produced by a group of small town-bred brothers called The Jacksons. You may’ve heard of ‘em. Comprised of five uniquely talented young men ranging between the ages of 19 and 29-years-old at the time of release, The Jacksons had been dropping heat rock after heat rock since 1969. But “Triumph” was (and is ¡TO THIS DAY!) a different animal, their most creatively independent and engaging project to date. 

You know, I’ve heard a few takes about this record insinuating that it was merely an attempt at capitalizing on (and, to an extent, recapturing the success and magic of) Mike Jack’s benchmark album “Off the Wall.” I don’t exactly view it that way, though. If anything, I find “Triumph” to be a congealing of what made past Jackson projects great (particularly “Destiny” and “Off the Wall”) and what musical imprint the brothers hoped to forge for the new decade.

So what exactly did make The Jax Bros. pre-Triumph albums great? One word: gumbo. Yes, gumbo. Those post-Gamble and Huff records have an element of cohesive eclecticism that’s akin to the way a dash of this and a little of that engulfed in a flavorful, full-bodied broth make for satisfying and distinctive sensory experience. Just as “Destiny” and “Off the Wall”’s roots are firmly cemented in R&B/Soul with smatterings of MOR balladry and prog rock/pop, “Triumph” is through-and-through an R&B record with poppy sprinkles. But what separates “Triumph” from the others is the glaring Earth, Wind & Fire influence. After spinning this record a couple of times, I thought, “Oh. So this is what EWF and The Jacksons would sound like if they had a baby!” The EWF inspo is most apparent in the first half of the album---espeeeeecially “Can You Feel It” with its peace ‘n’ unity, quasi-esoteric theme and horn-heavy peppiness. The album satiates our classic dance record aficionados out there with the bubbly bounce of songs like “Lovely One,” “Everybody,” “’Your Ways,” and “Walk Right Now.” “Time Waits for No One” provides a little exhalation break in between the record’s more spicy, spirited moments. "Give It Up” gives (heh) our steppers something they can bop to. And don’t think I forgot about “This Place Hotel.” That track is so damn good, if you throw it in the air, it’ll turn into sunshine. Deserves its own post, tbh.

Aside from the cohesive eclecticism I spoke of earlier, “Triumph” contains every element that makes The Jacksons’ output so undeniable---infectious melodies, concise lyrics, brilliant lead vocals from Kang Michael, and enlivening energy. If you haven’t already, please check this album out. Or give it a quick revisit. You won’t be disappointed.

(Oh, and I had to include this. I damn near flung my phone across the room when I heard this lil outtake from “Wondering Who” for the first time. PHEW!)

The Supremes – Hi. My name is Domi. And I am a Motown addict. I’ve been bosom-deep in this love affair with Motown since the age of 12. During my earliest discoveries of Motown’s premiere musicians, one of the things that enamored me most was their air of sophistication and dignity. Class was the name of the game, and the Supremes were arguably the poster children for the Motown clan’s distinctive refinement. I remember spending hours upon hours watching footage of the Supremes’ various television appearances from the early to late 60s and being in amazement of their poise. Their beauty. Their grace. Their effortless style and charm. I couldn’t quite articulate this as a pre-teen, but in my eyes, the amalgamation of Diana Ross’s spit-fire spunk, Florence Ballard’s understated majesty, and Mary Wilson’s sultry sparkle made for the perfect prototype of a woman—which is what I longed (and still long) to be.

Minnie Riperton – Everybody knows the song “Loving You.” Literally everyone. I don’t care if you’re a 46-year-old Timberland boot and skully cap-donning Wu-Tang head from the Bronx or a burned-out, corporate Becky with a Beamer; you know that tune. And at one point in your life, you’ve attempted (and, if you’re anything like me, miserably failed) at hitting that notorious whistle note at the end of the chorus. The sourness that shadows the dulcetness, though, is Minnie Riperton’s relative anonymity among casual music listeners. My first *real* dive into Ms. Riperton’s artistry was piqued by an episode of “Unsung.” The two pieces of commentary about Minnie that perked my ears up in particular were about the pureness of her soul and her first solo album, “Come to My Garden.” You wanna talk about a life-changing album? “Come to My Garden” was certainly one of those for me. It’s not just a record. It’s an experience—one that transports you into an iridescent wonderland of mysticism, strawberry cupcakes and 75 degree weather.  One of the tracks on the album, “Les Fleurs,” became an anthem of mine and remains a gentle reminder that I possess beauty and purpose, even through life’s hard knocks. After journeying through Minnie’s catalog, she quickly became my all-time favorite female vocalist. And the genuine goodness of her spirit continues to radiate brazenly through her songs.

Michael Jackson – Goodness. I could literally author an entire dissertation on what a behemoth impression this man has made on my life. I mean, aside from my admiration of his artistry (which I’ve made all too apparent on this here blog), Michael Jackson’s existence as a human being has been a giving tree of lesson on top of lesson—the granddaddy of them all being empathy. I’ve always fancied myself as a sensitive, caring person who seeks to find the humanity in others. Although I sometimes fall short in doing so, I make great efforts to understand the reasoning and motive behind people’s actions. And extensively studying Michael’s life nudged my pre-existing compassion into overdrive. From childhood abuse and exhaustion, to poor self-esteem and autoimmune disorders, Michael Jackson was put through the ringer; so much so, that the lingering effects (both internal and external) of those malignancies played out in the public eye—making him the butt of every joke imaginable. I couldn’t fathom bearing even an eighth of his seemingly perpetual trauma. Simply put, I feel terrible for the man. I don’t, however, pity him. Instead, I envelop myself in a deep understanding of his plight and seek to grant equal thoughtfulness to those around me.

Sade – If I were forced to describe myself in two words, “quiet storm” would be my phrase of choice. And to me, Helen Folasade Adu is basically the alpha and the omega of tender force (word to Smokey Robinson), as far as female artists are concerned. She has this beguiling power that’s neither boastful nor loud, but alluring and warm—keeping you at arms’ length, yet inviting enough to leave you hankering for seconds. Sade could fall off the face of the planet for literally ten years and reemerge to a flood of rapturous fanfare. She doesn’t compromise her innate enigmaticness for money, prestige, or notoriety. For a private, low-key, deeply introverted gal like me, it’s inspiring to know that leaving an enchanting imprint on the world while sustaining your truth isn’t such an impossible task after all.

Hey,

To those in doubt or in complete denial of Michael Jackson’s innocence, here are some resources you should definitely check out. And while you’re at it, I urge you to find the humanity in Michael Jackson. Utilize the same level of empathy, sympathy, and critical thinking in your assessment of him as you’d want extended to you.

https://vault.fbi.gov/Michael%20Jackson

https://themichaeljacksonallegations.com/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgSbSotJgUY

The indifference and lowkey rage against Rizz’s (Ralph’s longtime nickname) talent that’s been sprawling across the Internets has left me a little bemused, hella salty, but not at all surprised. You see, Ralph has never possessed what you’d call the “prototypical” voice of a male soul singer. From the start of New Edition’s rise, Rizz garnered attention for his sugary, youthful, Michael Jackson-esque lead vocals. As he aged, just like with every child singer, so did his voice—with his helium-high delivery eventually maturing into a distinctive, romantic, ear-grabbing, yet refined high tenor. But, if you let countless other people tell it, Ralph was nobody’s vocalist, and merely got by on choreography, charm, and handsome looks. According to #them, Rizz sounded “pathetic” (yes, y’all, “pathetic”) next to Johnny Gill’s thunderous, buttermilk-rich baritone. Hell, people are even claiming that Ricky had Ralph beat in the vocal department! Tempted as I am to devote this entire post to New Edition (and Ralph, specifically), the notion that Black R&B/Soul vocalists must fit a certain mold in order to be considered “real singers” desperately needs to be clocked. 

So, why exactly are Black vocalists expected to be these massive-voiced powerhouses? And why are lighter, smaller voices unheralded and dismissed? To answer that question, we have to zone in on what’s widely-known as the Mother of R&B/Soul: the church—and, more accurately, the gospel choir. More often than not, Classic Gospel music requires commanding, gut-wrenching performances to convincingly convey its messages. For that very reason, church choirs are notorious for birthing some of the most gifted Black vocalists to ever touch a mic. With that collection of powerful pipes comes assumptions and misconceptions about the Black voice—what it’s “supposed” to represent and how it’s “meant” to sound. Some Black folk just weren’t brought up in the church. Others were and simply chose to venture a route they felt would best suit their individual strengths and interests. Whichever case, it’s unfair to automatically one-up a gospel-influenced vocalist for a so-called “Blacker” approach.

Alright. Time to get a little psychological and sociological up in here. Humans, and ‘Muricans especially, tend to hold a “the bigger, the better” ideology. Nevermind quality. Forget logic. Bump substance. If it’s heftier, it’s inherently superior. So, when people listen to loud, room-filling voices (i.e. Whitney, Aretha, Luther, etc.), they’re automatically deemed greater than more delicate, subdued, ones (i.e. Janet, Diana, Ralph, etc.). 

Onto what’s, in my estimation, probably the most frustrating factor of all. Although Black female vocalists aren’t lambasted with this burden, their male counterparts certainly are. And that’s the incredibly damaging, wildly corny concept of hypermasculinity. Unfortunately, society’s warped perception of Black men (unwaveringly aggressive, rugged, manful, brash) has spilled over into artistry of all types—including music. Sweet, delicate timbres are too “girly.” High tenors “lack power.” And androgynous tones? Ha! Forget about it. Your sexuality is immediately in question. Gruff baritones and booming basses are superior by design, even if the singer’s technique, agility, and distinctiveness pale in comparison to the guy with the fluttery high tenor. It’s pretty ridiculous.

Black voices are widely diverse. Soft, loud, high, low, rough, gentle. There’s so much to choose from, and each type of voice has its own strength. It’s time we stop downing the non-traditional, open our ears, and start recognizing its beauty and purpose. To the Michaels, Aaliyahs, Sades, and Al B. Sures of the world, your voices are loved, appreciated, and admired.

I think it’s pretty damn fitting to close it on out with a prime example of how the bold and the boyish can align to create a masterpiece. XOXO, Rizz Trizz. You, too, JG. 

If you know a little something about the history of music videos, you’re well-aware of this inarguable fact: Nobody gave a shit about them until Michael Joseph Jackson. I mean, sure, by the time Mike unveiled his revolutionary Thriller era visuals to the globe, MTV was a firmly-established entity. But the channel hadn’t yet blossomed into the media juggernaut that it’s known as today. Thanks to Michael’s unprecedented visionary ingenuity, the public’s warm reception, and a little strong-arming persuasion from Epic Records, the music video grew into a full-on pop culture phenomenon—no longer a forgettable commodity that mostly served the purpose of artist promotion, but now, an extension of the music. A visual representation of the lyrics that move, intrigue, and inspire us. And no artist conceived and executed music videos (or as he preferred to call them, short films) quite like Mike. To honor the man’s crowing achievement in harmonizing visuals with sound, here are my top 7 Michael Jackson short films.

[Quick disclaimer for the hardcores: “Ghosts” is a literal short film, not a music video. So although it’s certainly one of Michael’s greatest, most under-acknowledged pieces of art, and practically shits all over “Thriller” it will not be included in my list.]

7. Rock With You - During the embryonic stages of his adult solo career, Mike was a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed chocolate chip muffin—full of vigor and excitement, not a trace of jadedness in sight. And to me, there’s no better visual manifestation of that magic than the “Rock With You” video. Here, Michael is seen in the most luminous, eye-grabbing, and down-right stunning sequined getup (wifffff da bewts ta match). Flashing his katrillion dollar smile, miming the sensual lyrics while hitting a few smooth, simple gyrations amongst beaming green strobe lights. Simple and clean with charming allure. Love it. 

6. Billie Jean -  Iconic in every sense of the word. From the illuminated tiles to Mike’s slick leather suit and effortless boogying, “Billie Jean” is one of the most recognizable videos (and songs) of all time. Following the young, fresh (literal and figurative) greenness of the Off the Wall era, Mike was hungry, confident, and ready. Ready to display his edgier, more ripened side. And with Billie Jean’s visual, he achieved just that—making it one of MTV’s most heavily-rotated videos.

5. Earth Song - A profound song calls for an equally profound pictorial. “Earth Song,” a dramatic, operatic cry to conjure widespread awareness about the planet’s deterioration, is one of the many hidden-in-plain-sight jewels of Michael’s expansive career. The manner in which he relays Earth Song’s message (through representation of various cultures, corners of the globe, and endangered wildlife) only amplifies it—leaving viewers not only amazed by the groundbreaking special effects and warm cinematography, but contemplative and concerned about our world’s pitfalls, as well.

4. They Don’t Care About Us (Brazil version) - Again, a powerful video that lends to an equally powerful message. This particular version of “They Don’t Care About Us” is colorful and adrenaline-racing and just makes you wanna move. The rhythmic, pounding drums are by far my favorite aspect of this video, especially during the final 2.5 minutes. To see Mike surrounded by so many brown, beautiful, lively Brazilians is heartwarming—a sight that gives credence to the fact that Michael never abandoned his blackness. Ever.

3. Remember the Time - Speaking of unwavering blackness, “Remember the Time” is chock-full of that shit. Both Hollywood and history textbooks have notoriously failed to acknowledge that ancient Egyptians were indeed Black. And royalty, too. Michael brought forth to mainstream America the idea that yes, Black people were (and continue to be) influential, strong, self-sufficient, gorgeous individuals. With celebrity cameos from Eddie Murphy, Iman, and Magic Johnson, direction from John Singleton, and bangin’ ass choreo courtesy of Fatima Robinson, “Remember the Time” screams Black excellence. The mid-video dance breakdown is e v e r y t h a n g. And Mike morphing into magical gold sand? Genius.

2. Stranger in Moscow - A prime example of ‘less is more.’ Theatrics, color, and dance breaks aren’t always necessary in conveying a song’s mood and message. “Stranger in Moscow” is quite possibly Michael’s most underrated short film. When you talk about visuals that make you feel, SIM should undoubtedly be in the conversation. Stunning cinematography. Flawlessly executed slo-mo effects. Melancholic and engaging. Oh, and Mike’s long trench coat is pretty fly, too.

1. Smooth Criminal - I don’t think there’s much I can say about this one that hasn’t already been said. “Smooth Criminal” is an absolute masterpiece. Let’s start with the aesthetic—seedy, sexy night club in the 1930s. Sharply-dressed men and elegant women bearing witness to a mysterious gentleman, slinkily maneuvering his way through the crowd. And the choreography? Second to none. The kind of movement that will have you on the edge of your seat, agape, mouth half open, thinking, “How’d the hell they do that?!” Cinematic, sharp, deliciously dark. A bonafide classic.

So here we are. Yet another Twitter-inspired post. Twitter appears to be my greatest source of inspiration and misanthropy, I’ve noticed. I oftentimes find myself perusing through the discussions, debates, and full-on drag outs of what’s not-so-affectionately referred to as #StanTwitter—a place in which keyboard gangstas and overzealous fanatics defend, shade, insult, gush over, and belittle the legacies of both highly accomplished musicians and today’s movers and shakers of the music industry. I could totally center this post around how I think #StanTwitter should die a slow, excruciating death, but thankfully, my pettiness levels are low on this fine Sunday evening. Instead, I am going to examine and give my $0.02 on a topic that is oft disagreed upon: what makes a musical legend? At what point in an artist’s career should he/she be in contention for legendary status? Who of today’s generation of talent could be considered a legend?

Now, for you technical Tommys and Tammys, y’all can holla at dictionary.com real quick to peep the most objective definition of the word “legend.” But, personally, when it comes to nuanced, frequently-argued about subjects such as this one, I believe a whole helluva lot more circumstantiality and real-life examples should come into play. And perhaps, most importantly, an arbitrary list of criteria and (if you wanna nerd it up a bit) percentages—such as what I came up with:

Talent (35%) - Starting with unarguably the most blatant indicator of greatness—T A L E N T. We’re talkin’ vocal capabilities, songwriting/producing/composition skills, musicianship, dancing abilities, visionary gifts, and good ol’ stage presence. Most artists are good to exceptionally great in at least one of these fields. Some are able to execute several of them at once. A diminutive number of ‘em possess every last one of these talents. Whichever level an artist happens to fall under, he/she must be able to ‘WOW!’ their listening and/or viewing audience with captivating, powerful prowess. And if they don’t? WELP! They can kiss toodle-loo to the chance of sitting among the ranks of our most illustrious greats.

Impact/Influence (35%) - If a tree falls in a forest and no one’s around to hear it, does it make a sound? Well, if you ask me, yes. Yes, it does. However, it’s a hard-knock life; unfortunately, we live in a fame and numbers-obsessed society—one in which that if you do not obtain a certain level of notoriety, you are irrelevant, wack, or (as #StanTwitter loves to fling around) a flop. While I certainly do not adhere to that philosophy, I’d be lying if I said an artist’s widespread influence on the game, as well as pop culture at large, didn’t hold a weighty amount of water in determining legendary status. When a creative figure leaves his/her mark on other creators, transforms entertainment outlets, revolutionizes visuals and/or sounds, and inspires Regular Joes to pursue their own dreams? That’s impact. It’s in the fingerprints, baby.

Longevity (20%) - Here’s where things get a little murky. ‘Longevity’ could mean a couple of things, but in this particular context, I’m referring to how well artistry withstands the test of time. Not to be confused with timelessness, though. To me, that’s a whole ‘nother concept. When I say ‘withstands the test of time,’ I’m talking about the length of time in which an artist’s sound, aesthetic, and influence remain within our culture. Now, don’t get me wrong; trends and styles come and go all the time, but we have to remember that everything is cyclical—fashion, music, hair, makeup. Damn near everything is recycled, whether aggravating, ‘MY FAVE WAS THE FIRST TO WEAR WIGS BIHHHHH!!!!1!!’ headass stans want to admit it or not. Sometimes, crazes of yesteryear are regenerated with fresh, new spins; sometimes, they’re just hollow replications. But nevertheless, a legends’ work can resonate and inspire (there’s that word again) for years and years down the line.

Length of Career (10%) - Our last and (to me, anyway) least significant factor in the calculation of legendom: length of career. More often than not, it takes a numerous amount of years for an artist to truly make an indelible mark on culture. Some of ‘em get there, while others flounder in the public’s fickleness. If you were to ask most Twitter users (who aren’t members of #StanTwitter), “how long does it take for an artist to become a legend?” I’d bet a dozen caramel cupcakes that most would say roughly two decades. That’s a pretty fair number, I think. But number of years in the game isn’t everything. At times, impact is immediate, forceful, and Juggernaut-esque. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Unless of course you’re one of those stuck-in-the-past, ‘get off my lawn!’ curmudgeons—a different donkey for a different day.

As of late, I’ve been immersing myself into the world of astrology (S/O to @itsjustdesire); I find myself being deeply fascinated by it. Not only has astrology helped me better grasp an understanding of my complex behavior and personality quirks, but it’s also given me more insight on why people do the things they do. And, if you couldn’t already tell from my previous posts, I’m a rabid Michael Jackson enthusiast. So, I decided to take something I’ve seen on Twitter quite often and put my own nerdtastic spin on it—assign each zodiac sign an MJ song and explain why I feel the song is representative of the signs. Sonically, lyrically, thematically, or all of the above. Hope you enjoy! And if you don’t particularly care for the tune that your sign was assigned, my apologies in advance.

Aries - Now, for the Ram of the zodiac, I chose “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’.” Aries are known for their bold, assertive, energetic nature, and what better Mike Jack song encompasses those characteristics better than WBSS? Its fun, fiery, fast-paced feel pairs perfectly with the Ram. Also, the lyrics to “Startin’ Somethin’” have a defensiveness to them, which is also known as a common Aries trait.

Taurus - Finding the perfect mate for the Bull was a tad bit tough for me, but I think I found a suitor that I’m sure all you Taureans will appreciate—”Human Nature.” My reason for choosing “Human Nature” to rep for Taurus is because of the sign’s groundedness and placidity. There’s no tune in Mike’s catalog that’s as tranquil and soothing as “Human Nature.” And its chorus, “Why? Why? Tell ‘em that it’s human nature.” You can’t get any more down-to-earth, grounded, and realistic than that.

Gemini - Alright, Twins. So for you guys, I picked “History.” Geminis are known for duality and deep complexity; they oftentimes get a bad rep for being “two-faced.” But that’s not always a bad thing, and the title track of the “HIStory” album displays that. Alternating between a rough-edged, stabby, funky, motivational groove and a smooth, idealistic lilt, “History” is like two songs in one. Although “History” is one of Mike’s most slept on tracks, it’s also one of his most creative and engaging. While Geminis are anything but under-discussed, they’re definitely one of the most creative, brilliant, and magnetic signs of the zodiac.

Cancer - So, I chose “Cry” for the Crabs. If you know a little something about Cancers, you’re well aware of their highly sensitive, touchy disposition. A lot of people would even call them crybabies. (Hence, my song choice for them.) But aside from their hypersensitivity, Cancers can be deeply compassionate and altruistic. “Cry” is all about what Cancers stand for—deep desire to make positive change, lending aid to good causes, and just plain ol’ benevolence.

Leo - And now we’ve arrived to the regal ones of the zodiac, les Leos. This sign is primarily known for being braggadocious, confident, and open, so selecting a song for the Lions (”Bad”) was an easy task. Leos are about rising up to the occasion, showing and proving to themselves and to the world around them just how capable and badass they are. “Bad” has a bouncy, upbeat, warm instrumental—all things stereotypically Lion(ness). You go, Leo.

Virgo - Ah, yes, the analytical, anal workaholics of the zodiac. Anyone wanna take a wild guess as to which song I picked for the Virgins? If your guess is “Workin’ Day and Night,” two ‘hee hees’ and an air kick for you. Virgos are extremely hard-working, almost to a fault. They’re very detail-oriented and appreciate tasks that require great intricacy, which is also why I feel WDAN best represents Virgos. “Workin’ Day and Night” does not receive enough love in the Mike fandom for how incredibly elaborate the instrumental is. And to me, the same can be said for Virgos—who I feel do not get their due props.

Libra - If you happen to be reading this post and you’re not a hardcore Michael Jackson fan, you might not be familiar with this jam. Libras, whose symbol is the Scales, are very elegant, smooth, refined individuals. The original demo for “P.Y.T.” encapsulates all those attributes. Libras are also known for their beauty, good taste, and affinity for the finer things in life. And despite its relaxed groove, the “P.Y.T.” demo has a subtly luxurious vibe.

Scorpio - As for our Scorpions, well, it was a toss up between two songs: “Dangerous” and “Who is It.” Now, both of these songs are well-representative of common Scorpio traits—dark, intense, and passionate. Buuuutttt, I’m leaning more towards “Who is it” because of the tune’s mysteriousness and its theme of betrayal and deception. Also, because people tend to berate Scorpios for their supposed “need for emotional drama.” So if you’re a Scorp and you wholeheartedly rebuke the stereotypes placed upon you, gon’ head and opt for “Dangerous.” It fits you just as well.

Sagittarius - Choosing a tune for the Archers of the crew was pretty tough as well. But after a bit of pondering, I’m going with “Off the Wall” as the Sag theme song. As we all know, “Off the Wall” is about letting your hair down and freeing your mind, body, and spirit from life’s daily stressors. Sagittarians are characteristically fun, optimistic, outgoing, and free-spirited. When down, they don’t stay down. They boogie!

Capricorn - Ok, to be perfectly honest, I’m still not certain of which song I feel best epitomizes the Goats. So I’m just gonna throw a dart at my MJ album collection. And whaddaya know? It landed on “Man in the Mirror.” Caps are, at most times, best described as grounded, ambitious, conservative, and wise creatures. “Man in the Mirror” relays the message that it takes self-awareness, work, and drive to make the world at large a better place. And I think the vast majority of Capricorns would deeply identify with this philosophy.

Aquarius - “Stranger in Moscow” is the cut that I chose for our resident Water Bearers because of how deep, multi-faceted, and artistic they are. They also have a tendency to isolate themselves from others and are labelled as cold and distant. But that aloofness is not without rhyme or reason. Aquas are pretty eccentric and, though they take great pride in their individuality, can sometimes feel lonely and misunderstood. They seldom show it, but Aquarians are emotional people who have an immense need to make a difference. To me, Aquas are quiet storms—much like “Stranger in Moscow” is quietly intense.

Pisces - And last, but certainly not least, we have our Fish—the dreamy, creative, quiet, gentle souls of the zodiac. “Fly Away” is pretty much Pisces-in-a-jar. Listening to “Fly Away,” you can easy space out and get whisked away into a dreamland where you and the object of your desire leave the callous world behind and float to the cosmos together. Idealistic and romantic, Pisces would want nothing more than to just...fly away.

6. Can’t Let Her Get Away - Ok, so this jam sits alongside “She Drives Me Wild” in what I feel encompasses the NJS sound, feel, and purpose. Arguably the most danceable record on this album, “Can’t Let Her Get Away” is synthetic in aesthetic, but still retains its swing. The chord progressions during the verses and pre-chorus almost have a dark feel to them, which perfectly complements Mike’s lyrics about his object of desire’s puzzling actions; the understated synth strings trail along the progressions, providing an added layer of luridness. By far, though, my favorite element of this track is the bridge. It builds up to a near-climactic eruption, only for the instrumental to return to its funky, rhythmic form. And Mike’s non-enunciating. A Michael Jackson record just ain’t a Michael Jackson record without a little nonsensical mumbling. Gotta love it. Three words to describe CLHGA: lively, layered, bouncy.

7. Heal the World - Out of the 14 cuts on the “Dangerous” album, “Heal the World” is probably my least favorite. Now before you start swinging at me, hear a sista out. I wholehearted support Mike’s passion about improving our globe for upcoming generations. And I commend him for feeling strongly enough about global issues to write, record, and release a song about them. While the lyrics are heart-warming and poignant, and Mike’s vocals sound like the sweetest, purest agave nectar, “Heal the World” is a bit too saccharine for my liking. Don’t get me wrong; I love the message and tranquil vibe of the instrumental, but I feel as though the song would’ve been better executed had Mike taken a Stevie Wonder “Love’s in Need of Love Today”-esque approach instead. And thanks to a hilarious Twitter discussion from a while back, I can’t listen to the stuttering kid at the beginning without cackling. Dammit. Three adjectives for “Heal the World”: sweet, sappy, relaxing.

8. Black or White (featuring L.T.B.) - Alright. So we’ve passed the halfway point of the album, and it’s time to pick things up a bit. “Black or White”, in my opinion, is the quintessence of infectious. Everything about this song, from the melody, to Mike’s sing-songy delivery, to the guitar riff throughout, just screams ‘catchy smash hit’. What I admire about B or W is that although the song itself is light and poppy, the subject matter is anything but. Mike uses his gift of infusing heavy messages into accessible tunes that any age, creed, and color can enjoy. He does so in this song by referencing interracial relationships and derogatory slurs (i.e. “boy”). Without a doubt, one of Mike’s most enduring signature tunes. Tres palabras por “Negro o Blanco”: sunny, memorable, colorful.

9. Who Is It - Let me just start by saying that this is my favorite cut on the entire album. And if I were to put together a list of my top 10 favorite Michael Jackson songs (which I’d probably have a nervous breakdown trying to make), “Who Is It” would easily make the cut. There’s sooooo much about this record that I could gush over, but I’ll try to condense my numerous praises as much as I can. Firstly, that eerie, operatic vocalizing at the beginning is simply chill-inducing. Just as the goosebumps appear, a vicious, sinister bass line bounces into the track, followed by an airy and equally-menacing string section. The grimy tone is well-established once Mike’s vocal comes through. He sings in his gorgeous (and under-utilized) lower register, gulping, gasping, and quivering to further project his words. And again, Mike does an excellent job of telling a story with his voice—this time, a story of betrayal, uncertainty, and deceit; his lyrics are fantastically gripping. The song starts strong, and finishes just as strong, with Mike serving the most impassioned ad-libs he’s ever recorded and some stank face-generating beat boxing. Three words for this masterpiece: haunting, theatrical, intriguing.

10. Give in to Me (featuring Slash) - Michael tackling rock always makes for an interesting listen, and “Give in to Me” is no exception. This is the sexiest “Dangerous” cut, in my estimation. (Yes, edging out “In the Closet”. Fight me.) Now, the sexiness of this one is more clandestine, and I mostly attribute the track’s steamy feel to its minor tonality and Mike’s carnal delivery. He begs, pleads, demands, damn near whines to his lady, urging her to endow him with the love, affection, attention, and respect that he feels he deserves. Just as he did in “Who is It” and “Remember the Time”, Mike narrates the tale perfectly with his voice—almost to the point where you can actually envision Mike expressing his grievances to his lady on bent knees. And this goes without saying, but the guitar-playing from Slash is exquisite; hypnotic even. Three words to describe “Give in to Me” (well...four): subtly sensuous, edgy, intoxicating. 

11. Will You Be There - Most of us agree that Mike was extra and petty for that long arse intro, right? Right. But I suppose that can be forgiven. After all, “Will You Be There” is one of the most moving, soul-stirring songs on the record. Although the instrumental is a shuffling, skeletal rhythm, the gospel choir in this song is an instrument in itself. Mike maintains a boyish, calm, slightly melancholic tone throughout the first half and eventually ascends into impassioned belting—with the glorious choir following his lead. And the lyrics, man. Poignant is far too modest of a word for them. Michael is practically outstretching his hand, pleading the world to their maintain love, faith, and trust in him during his darkest moments. Which, albeit to a lesser extent, I’m sure many listeners can relate to. Three words for WYBT: passionate, ethereal, gentle.

12. Keep the Faith (featuring The Andrae Crouch Singers) - Since 1987′s “BAD”, Mike made it his mission to include at least one gospel-flavored, inspirational song on each release. Michael delivers his strongest vocal performance of the album on “Keep the Faith”. Don’t get it twisted; Mike always sang with soul and conviction, whether he was floating over an uptempo dance track or caressing a love ballad. But he put a lil extra necessary stank on “Keep the Faith”, man. I mean, it’s impossible to sing such a tune without putting your gut, heart, and one of your kidneys into it. I can totally picture Mike belting this one out in the middle of a black Pentecostal church service with the Crouch Singers backing him up. You can’t tell me folks wouldn’t be up in there hooting, hollering, and catching the Holy Ghost. Three word description for “Keep the Faith”: uplifting, inspiring, churchy.

13. Gone Too Soon - I haven’t listened to this song in a smooth six years, for obvious reasons. So, nope.

14. Dangerous - Le closer. The title track. The song that caps off this magical ride into the mind of Mike Jack. Listening to this song always makes me feel like I’m in a spacious warehouse surrounded with full-length mirrors and gigantic fans blowing my fro to-and-fro. “Dangerous” tells the tale of a femme fatale who, in spite of her sinister ways, Mike just can’t stray away from. Another sexy, impassioned vocal performance from the Mikester—half spoken, half sung—with a full-bodied, slapping beat that makes you wanna jig. Perfect ending that rounds out the album masterfully. Three words to describe “DAN-GER-RUSSSSUH”: danceable, vivid, knocking.

So here we go. My very first album review! This was requested by none other than my crazy, fantabulous, fellow Mike Jack fanatic of a friend, @itsjustdesire. Her favorite LP happens to be Michael Jackson’s fourth adult solo effort, 1991′s “Dangerous.” Let’s begin, shall we?

Firstly, if this iconic image is unfamiliar to you, please back away from this post, log off, and position yourself in the nearest corner. For those of us who know this photo all too well, I think I can speak for all of us when I say that this particular cover had folks staring, inspecting, ogling, squinting, and analyzing—just looking for answers. And while I’m sure 98.53872% of us haven’t the slightest clue of what Mike was attempting to relay to his viewing and listening audiences with this gorgeous, esoteric mosaic, the “Dangerous” album cover remains one of music’s most intriguing illustrations. Mike knew exactly what he was doing when he chose this specific piece to be the defining image of his first album of the 90′s. This cover actually looks the way the album sounds, which is an aspect of Mike’s artistry and impressive attention to detail that often goes unnoticed. A wild, eclectic, colorful, deep, and sometimes esoteric ride into Mike’s mind is what this image represents to me. And Mike certainly did not fall short in harmonizing visuals with sound.

Tracks

Jam (featuring Heavy D) - The album’s opener. The track that sets the tone and demands the listener (whether casual or die hard) to sit the hell up and pay attention. I mean, c’mon, the song kicks off with the sound of shattering glass. If that isn’t a sure fire commader, I don’t know what is. Now, admittedly, it took a while for me to fully appreciate Jam’s brilliance. But once it hit me, boy, did it hit! What I dig most about this joint is Mike’s talk-sing, rap-like delivery. I liken his phrasing and tone of voice to a preacher’s, and the lyrics seamlessly roll off Mike’s lips in a way that makes you internalize each and every rapid fire utterance. The fonktastic horns, synthetic, yet crispy drums, and catchy *jinglejangle* of sleigh bells provide the perfect backdrop to Mike’s confident, punchy, wisdom-laden words. And lettucenot forget Heavy D’s effortlessly smooth flow. Three words I’d use to describe Jam: spirited, percussive, exhilirating.

Why You Wanna Trip on Me - “Mind ya bidness, aight?! Mind ya bidness!” (c) Will Smith. If I were to compile a ten song list that I feel is best representative of Mike’s life as a world-renowned star, ‘Trip on Me’ would most definitely make the cut. Michael was unarguably the most ridiculed, harassed, followed, and speculated about artist of both the 21st century and the 20th century’s latter two decades. And in this particular track, Mike expresses that he is fed the fawk up with folk worried about his actions, his personal life, his disposition, and his appearance instead of directing concern toward the world’s countless issues—such as illteracy, poverty, hunger, and violence. The influence of “Janet Jackson’s Rhythmn Nation 1814″ is particularly evident in this tune, as Janet heavily tackled the same issues on her iconic 1989 LP. Mike’s agitated and angsty delivery gives the rock/New Jack Swing-flavored, minor keyed instrumental an added layer of groove. The guitar riffs that ring throughout are killer and, personally, my favorite element of ‘Trip on Me.’ Three words I’d use to describe this joint: angry, snappy, slappin’.

In the Closet (featuring Princess Stephanie of Monaco) - Lesbehonest, y’all. One thing Mike knew how to do is garner attention. Whether it was via his feisty vocals, crotch grabbing, quirky fashions, or air of mystique, the public watched Mike’s every move with baited breath. Mike was aware of it. He was well-informed of all the speculatory statements. And hell yeah, he had fun with it sometimes. Case in point—”In the Closet.” I’m talmbout the title, yall. Unless you’re extremely sheltered, you know what type of implications the phrase ‘in the closet’ holds. It’s always been my belief that Mike purposely used this phrase to make the public go, “OH, WORD?!” Not that the song required a quasi-controversial title to get people to listen or buy the single. It’s one of my top five tracks of the entire album, for reasons that I can’t articulate as well as I’d like. The song just...grooves, man. It’s slinky, sensuous, and has an element of mysteriousness to it that I adore. Mike’s vocals perfectly suit the concept. Dat falsetto, dawg! And to hear Mike get all sexified on a track is a rare delight for both male and female fans alike. (Come on, menz, keep it real. Y’all know that shit was hawT!) For its content, the track’s length is perfect, too—not too long, not too short, juuuust right. *moon emoji* Three words I’d use to describe ITC: sexy, crisp, daring.

She Drives Me Wild (featuring Wreckx-n-Effect) - *beeeeeeeep, beep, beeeeep* Now this one right here, tho? Banger! Pure banger. To me, this song encompases what NJS (New Jack Swing) is about—pure groove, sweat, and stank with pop sensibilities. Mike is all attitude in this song, showing no mercy with his gritted teeth, sassy delivery. The hook is extremely infectious; the vocal layering on it is sublime and adds a tinge of sweetness to the track. Another percussive, funky, fun song that could’ve easily been a single, in my opinion. Three words for this cut: concise, catchy, danceable.

The Summer of 1958. That’s when two of the brightest, most talented stars of our time (of all time, lesbehonest) were bestowed upon the universe. And in case you live under a rock or in a mediocrity microcosm that only allows space for subpar singers and vapid viral stars, I’m refering to none other than Prince Rogers Nelson and Michael Joseph Jackson. Both of these extraordinary men provided the entertainment industry, as well as pop culture at large, with innovative, daring, poignant, thought-provoking, and awe-inspiring artistry for decades upon decades. Their bold, distinctive talent, along with countless accolades and awards, earned these sires their respective titles of ‘His Royal Badness’ and ‘The King of Pop’. Their monstrous runs in the early to late 1980s (most commonly refered to as Prince and Mike’s “glory days”) are reflected upon in fond memory by not only Generation X-ers, but by millenials (such as yours truly and countless others) who can only daydream about absorbing the excitement of those times. But with their near-simultaneous winning streaks came one of the most irritating, lengthy, beating-a-dead-horse, non-sensical ass debacles in the history of forever: “Who’s Better, Prince or Michael Jackson???”

Alright, alright. Welllllll, maybe the comparisons aren’t so nonsensical. As I mentioned before, both gentlemen were born in the Summer of 1958. Not only do the fellas have a common birth year and season, but both Prince and Mike once shared the same stomping ground (well...somewhat) of the Midwest, an under-acknowledged region that fostered some of music’s greatest talent. And from my understanding, Prince and Mike had the unfortunate similarity of having endured tumultuous childhoods. Both men were fiercely private and considered to be fascinating, reclusive eccentrics. In addition to those factors, the two geniuses played pivotal roles in gender non-conformation. I mean, these dudes rocked dainty, ruffled blouses, sequin-dripped jackets and cardigans, beat-to-capacity ((c) Tamar Braxton) faces full of makeup, flowing locks, and even thongs. Yes, thongs. And did they give a hot diggidy damn? Hell to the naw naw. Oh, and how could I not mention the most glaring similarity of all?! They’re both black. Black as hell, too, despite what naysayers and traditionalists pop their close-minded chops about. 

Back in the days when I was young I’m not a kid anymore but some days I sit and wish I was a kid again I was pretty uninformed about music, especially the music that my parents grew up on. I did not understand why certain artists were compared to one another and why certain ones were held to a higher esteem than others. I also was deprived of the luxury of growing up with music heads as parents, so later in my adolescent years, I discovered the magical, unprecedented timelessness that is the music of Michael Jackson. And a couple of years after that, Prince stumbled into my life. Both artists blew me away in a manner that hadn’t been done before. As I ventured deeper and deeper into their catalogs, I surfed the innanetz for any tidbit of information I could find on these magnificent creatures. Cute annecdotes and quotes and interviews galore! But eventually, I came across constant comparisons, drawn-out analyses, and vicious arguments over Prince and Mike. It befuddled and, to be quite frank, pissed me off initially, especially due to the fact that a heafty portion of Prince’s hardcore fan base felt the need to belittle Mike’s artistry and make slanderous personal attacks in order to defend their guy. 

Again, it was something I did not understand. Why can’t these two amazingly gifted men be appreciated, celebrated, and elevated in their own way, respectively? Prince was a virtuoso-level instrumentalist, arranger, songwritier, and composer whose influence remains a staple in both popular and underground music. Mike, too, was an arranger, songwriter, and composer. But he melded those elements with revolutionary visuals, dynamic vocals, and jaw-dropping body movement. It’s also important to note that while Prince and Mike both had troubled upbringings, Mike was a child star, a prodigous talent whose family depended on him early on to push the Jackson name to the forefront. Throughout his duration with the brothers, he either A) had little to no say in creative processes or B) had to share (and sometimes stifle) his creative vision. But Prince had the luxury of doing his own thing from the jump, with no worries of his father, brothers, or an assembly line-esque record label that would interfere with his unique vision. These factors are rarely considered when discussing the difference between Prince and Mike. If you ask me, Prince is more akin to David Bowie and Rick James, yet you seldom see him compared to either of them. All four of the aforementioned men are influential, once-in-a-lifetime musicians who should receive their own individual shine. And it may sound proposterous to say, but I think Mike does not get his just due as a musician. But that’s a whoooooole ‘nother post...

So if you’re reading this and you’re a die hard fan of Prince, Mike, or both, I would love for you to take this pledge with me: “I, [insert full name here], do solemnly swear from this day forward that I will neither partake in downing Michael Joseph Jackson to uplift Prince Rogers Nelson, nor will I degrade Prince Rogers Nelson to exalt Michael Joseph Jackson.”