RIP MJ

Last Thursday I awoke late and was trying to get my kids up out of bed for school when I heard about Michael Jackson. Although the moment was sad news for me, I guess I kind of thought, well, them's the breaks. It was only when I was about to tell hubby boo that it hit me that, for both of us, and especially for him, Michael Jackson was such a significant part of our lives.

I remember catching Billie Jean on one of those chart shows that we had showing here during the early 80s. They were like specials, they didn't seem to happen on a regular basis on Malaysian tv. Watching those lights go on in the pavement under his feet and seeing that dancing, that fantastic dancing. I dimly remember the hype surrounding the video, maybe it made the news, I don't know. I would watch it over and over again, and wonder who Bille Jean was that merited this song. Beaing barely 10 years old, it says a lot that I was curious about the story of the song. When Beat It came out, I was transfixed by the choreography. When Thriller came out, I would have learned the steps if I could keep up. The most I could do was sing along and just... try to keep up.

I was never an out and out Michael Jackson fan. I mean, I could have sung most of his songs for you and described all his music videos. As a teen I bought the Cure, Jamiroquai, The Bee Gees. I guess I got the feeling it was a little uncool to like the Michael Jackson of the early 90s, late 80s. But Thriller was the second album I bought ever, only after Olivia Newton-John. After that I got Off the Wall, and despite moving on to other music those songs stayed with me. In particular Wanna Be Starting Something and PYT off the Thriller album were non-megahits which I loved and tried to learn the lyrics to.

Hubby and I saw him perform in KL. We were both astounded at how fit he was. I always thought he was lean and slight. But in his gold suit, every time he did the robot, his thigh muscles would bulge, and I realised at the same time as boo that he was quite built, almost stocky with muscles. I felt no hysteria at the concert. We were seated halfway down the field and told to sit by the FRU as soon as we got up to dance, because we were "blocking the others", who by the way, were all standing as well. I don't think they get what the purpose of a concert is for, i.e. a safe place for people to let off steam - so they don't do it elsewhere.

And when I heard he had died, I felt sad and shocked, but went about my day as usual.

But today, the day before, and the day before that, I have been thinking so deeply about it all, reading up and watching videos from his past, and I have felt miserable about it all. I almost wish the naysayers were correct, and that maybe he faked it all to finally find some peace. Of course I don't believe that, I just wish it. Anything that might have assuaged that pain that he seems to have felt all his life, despite being a prodigy, and smart and fortunate.

I despair over the lies that cropped up immediately after his death, and even more dismayed by the hateful comments and jokes at his and his family's expense. If you have any idea at all about the psychology of a singularly talented person rising up from abuse and poverty, you can't help but find compassion for him, or at least his children. For every terrible accusation against him there has been a loving praise for him to match it.

I found a programme on youtube in which he showed his personal home videos, and I can't help feeling that he was this complex man made up of physical prowess, agility and sexuality, mental capacity for creativity and business, and this kid who never swore and hid his mouth when he laughed and got embarrassed when asked about his virginity. His changing face... that saddened me the most, because from being a cute star child, losing those cheeks, clear skin, cute little voice and turning into a skinny, ungainly teenager, and then at the sudden peak of your career losing control over your looks through the broken nose, the burnt scalp, the vitiligo. If I were him, I don't know how I could keep performing, constantly under attack about the one thing that physically matters in the industry besides the voice an the dancing, and that you have no control over.

The frenzy and the lack of control over whether the news really does carry truth or pure scandal, or even speculation which so easily gives rise to lies which becomes truth bothered me a lot. And yet as a fan, I really want to know more and to make sure that I know all there is to know. I suppose it's closure.

My hope is that the children are safely taken care of and are not dumped into the wrong hands who might take advantage of their sudden wealth (MJ's estate value soared since his death). I also hope they don't have to face too much of the scandals their father did before they are able to handle it as adults. I hope they are left alone to grow up with as much of a childhood as possible.

people always told me be careful what you do
don't go around breaking young girls' hearts
and mother always told me be careful who you love
be careful what you do because the lie becomes the truth

The lyrics seem portentious, hearkening to a future trouble he would not know of in 1983, but I think after more than ten years in the business, this was probably already a home truth to Michael and his family.

From all the 70s and 80s babies who remember what they were doing when Billie Jean hit the airwaves, and from all the 90s and Noughties babies who met him at Dangerous, rest in peace, Michael Jackson.

Gone Too Soon

Like a comet
Blazing 'cross the evening sky
Gone too soon

Like a rainbow
Fading in the twinkling of an eye
Gone too soon

Shiny and sparky
And splendidly bright
Here one day
Gone one night

Like the loss of sunlight
On a cloudy afternoon
Gone too soon

Like a castle Built upon a sandy beach
Gone too soon

Like a perfect flower
That is just beyond your reach
Gone too soon

Born to amuse, to inspire, to delight
Here one day
Gone one night

Like a sunset
Dying with the rising of the moon
Gone too soon
Gone too soon

Michael Jackson, R.I.P.

Music I Remember Seeing

There was a time when local stations used to play music video shows, before MTV. I was about ten or eleven and had just learnt to use the video recorder. They were shown late at night and only showed about six or eight videos. That's where I learnt about Michael Jackson and Wham and The Eurythmics.

It's also where I developed a semi-conscious appreciation of music which I carried with me into my teens. So every now and then I would hear songs on the radio that struck a chord, twinged an aural memory, or inspired nostalgic longings for that little world I was in as a pre-teen, when I was learning to define myself culturally and musically.

I never thought I was a rock music fan. I never thought my tastes were that cool. It was only later that I realised that the Beatles were rockers and so were some of the Motowners I listened to as a child. My dad was a subscriber to a music album club. He had a stock of fantastic albums, including Scott Walker, the Beatles of course, various compilation albums, Motown records and instrumental musicians and other dignitaries like Django Reinhardt, Nat King Cole, The Kinks, Elvis, Louis Armstrong, Credence Clearwater Revival, John Denver, Engelbert Humperdinck, Crunchy Granola Guy (I can't remember his name!), and so, so many others. I must have heard these albums when my dad played them, because for some reason or other, I could identify oldies, classics, voices and singles when I was in my teens in high school, stuff my peers had never heard.

Much as I would like to have been a cool rocker, ultimately, it was the toons and the personalities which captivated me. And here, I have attempted to track down those videos which stayed with me.

This one in particular, by Journey, I have ben looking for for months now. For the life of me I couldn't identify the song nor the video. It became clear to me today that I was confusing the band and song with another band and song. I remember very vividly the video had a warehouse/docks location and that the lead singer was a cutie. I also realise that I recently cut my hair in almost the same fashion as he has. Though I am a little more on trend, I insist. This is Journey's "Separate Ways":



Steve Perry went on to have other singles as a solo artist such as "Oh Sherrie". Ya, remember?

The song I was confusing this with was Survivor's "I Can't Hold Back", featuring Red Leather Pants Man. I kinda thought he was cute too, though at my age, this was X-rated as far as I was concerned.



Didn't they all have a lot of energy in music videos back then? Their expressions, their style. Man, they were gung-ho!

Then there was John Waite (Bad English, the Babys), who had this fantastic song with a lovely angsty 80s video in semi-darkness with a swinging overhead light. Unfortunately the video cannot be found on youtube, so here he is, looking very unlike the close-cropped self he was in the video, on a show:



Anyone remember Black? Probably not. And most people I try to remind this song of have no idea of it or the artist himself. I loved this because it was such a lovely video and calming. And lovely. And calming.



Let's hear it for General Public! Does anyone remember them? Please someone say they do. I have always loved this song, and marvel at the sheer OTT performances that totally self-conscious singers have:



However some artists have an enormous sense of self that has ensured their everlastingness in the hearts of their fans. There's no doubt that this guy has absolute certainty as to his coolness:



I didn't know who Corey Hart was, but I remember the video. I could only find this remixed version, but fans should enjoy revisiting the (dark) past!



Wouldn't it be good if they made songs like this again?



Wasn't this guy magical?



Murray Head. Anyone know what he sang?



Oh, it's been so nice revisiting and reliving my yoot.

Feeling great!
C

Idolling

Tonight's theme, the BeGloved One, Michael Jackson.

My favourite is still over-the-top Adam Lambert, so self-assured and certain. But do the 'Mericans like him? I also like Alexis Grace and Danny Gokey, and the rest are pretty much dross to me. Don't necessarily think the latter two gave the best performances tonight, but I still like 'em. Gokey better stop doing the hokey-pokey.



pics courtesy american idol

Anoop and Jorge seem to stick in my mind, but in particular with Jorge, I think it's because Paula Judge and Kara Judge seem to think he can't express himself in English. As Simon put it, "that's patronising", and gosh, I wish they would stop harping on about his bloody accent. He is obviously conversant in English, does it matter how he speaks? They can't seem to make the mental leap past his ethnic background, to actually take in the fact that he is responding to them in Engerlish. Sheesh.

Someone check who's styling these poor kids!

Nice to see Kara Judge and Paula Judge's sentimentalism and earnestness haven't rubbed off on you, Simon baby. See you next week, cuddles.

C