Just over a week ago, Michael Jackson, the self-proclaimed King of Pop, danced his last signature steps in a rehearsal on the grand stage of the Staples Center, then went into cardiac arrest and breathed his last breath not 24 hours later. I was at work running from one meeting to another when a co-worker alerted me to the news before CNN or the LA Times had confirmed it: Michael Jackson was dead.
Since then, DJs have dusted off old LPs of album cuts or singles not played in years, radio stations have created tribute mixes and dedicated days to all-Michael play, television specials on his life and music have been popping up with a quickness only possible for someone with such a prolific career of music and video volume over the 40-year career of his 50-year life. And I, in my own car, have had "Michael" and "Jackson 5" as my two most played artists on my iTunes, processing the death of the man who provided much of the soundtrack of my youth. Videos from the "Thriller" album bring me back to watching Video 1 with Richard Blade in elementary school, songs from "Dangerous" were the anthems of my high school dance production numbers, and the list goes on.
As a DJ, I mourn the death of one of the greatest musical talents in history. Though he hasn't produced a hit in a few years, the finality that Jackson's distinctive, soulful vocals will not appear on any more new releases is a sad thought. As a Gen-Xer, I mourn the closing of a genre -- in a way, Michael was his own -- so closely tied with the development of my musical taste and love of dance growing up. But as a human, I mourn the downward spiral of his life over the years. Growing up literally remembering nothing but being in the public eye, and with a fiercely applause-hungry, over-critical and crazy stage parent of a father, Michael confessed once that the only place he felt safe was on a stage before thousands of people. As impressive as his presence was on that stage of dancers and flashing lights, there appeared to me to be a child who never grew up, and struggled with self-hate and was scared to death of people and relationships. All of this culminated in child molestation charges, excessive plastic surgery and increasingly frequent public displays of weirdness.
Michael's music may have been big enough to cover the multitude of his deep issues, and many will remember his glorious laundry list of #1s over all of the freakishness. But as many thousands there are mourning Michael the King on Tuesday's memorial service at the Staples Center and Nokia, I could bet the number of individuals who actually knew Michael the man could be counted on one hand.
Still, as I watched fireworks celebrating the Fourth of July tonight, my friends and I were sitting too far from the show to hear any music. And in my mind, the silent, spectacular show - like many things - would have been perfect set to some good ol' MJ.
