Archive for June, 2009

Michael Jackson Moonwalks Into The Void

June 30, 2009

“Fame! I’m going to live forever”
Uh, probably not because being famous currently seems more dangerous than swine flu.

And one celebrity death has led to the most positive press coverage Michael Jackson has had in ages.

Don’t Let Your Son Go Down On Me

Apparently Elton John said that he would never perform Candle in the Wind again after Diana’s funeral. Good, I never liked that tune. When Elton heard that Michael Jackson had died he performed Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me. Let’s hope that’s the last time he does that one too.

In fact let’s hope Elton uses up all his crap tunes on dead celebrities.

Of course that’d mean he’d have to play some pretty weird songs at funerals.

Eulogy: “Paul Hogan will be sadly missed by all of us. It’s hard to believe we’ll never hear him say his catchphrase again: “That is not a knife. That is a knife.” He’ll be particularly missed by his wife who is incapable of getting an acting gig on her own. And now here’s Elton John with Crocodile Rock”
Elton: “Laaaaa. La la la laaa laaaaaaaa. La la la laaaaaa. La la la laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Leave Me Alone

Already some people think that Jacko faked his death to get out of the huge number of concerts in London. This seems unlikely to me.

Remember this guy is the worst liar in the world. He claimed the only surgery he’d had was on his nose – and even that was only to improve his singing. Yeah, and I suppose Jordon got those boobs to improve her balance.

Jacko was such a hopeless liar that if he had tried to fake his death the paramedics would’ve walked into his home to find a trouser press on the floor with a paper plate stuck on as a face and a single white glove on the handle.

Paramedic: “Excuse me Mr Jackson, I can see you standing behind the curtain”

Jacko: “It’s not me, it’s LaToya”

You Are Not A Loon

Back in the day, Michael Jackson was a fantastic singer. In the Jackson 5 his voice was like audio sunshine. Hearing ABC and I Want You Back immediately summons memories of a happy childhood even if, like Jacko, you didn’t have one.

The transfer of this youthful energy into Off the Wall and it’s tasteful disco stylee was remarkable. And then Thriller: two awesome tracks, a game-changing video, the moonwalk and a whole load of hype.

Then came Bad, which signalled what was to come: The overblown “heal the world” fart-gust of Man in the Mirror; the constant popping and clicking instead of singing; Jacko’s utter lack of self-awareness leading to the absurd idea that he can look like a New York gang member in a designer bondage jacket and more eye-liner than Siouxie Sioux. (Nearly as stupid as Olivia Newton-John in this hard hitting video)

The worst thing that can happen to any musician is when their press coverage is more memorable than their songs. Just ask Pete Docherty. And through the nineties and beyond we couldn’t whistle his tunes but we all knew about the controversies and his bizarre lifestyle.

He became such a remote and out of touch figure that I can’t think of any pop star it was harder to relate to as a fellow human being. Even Bowie at his most alien seemed in some way human. If you dressed like Bowie you were a bit eccentric; If you dressed like Jacko you were mentally ill.

The Way You Make Me Feel (ill)

As you may gather from what I’ve written so far, I don’t feel all that sad that poor old Jacko has died. I’m not happy he’s dead but I don’t feel any tragedy either. He was clearly quite ill, physically and mentally, but seemed deeply unlikeable with it. His habits were strange. His use of money to silence critics was sinister. His pathetic lies were an insult to everyone’s intelligence. He seemed to me to be like the school bully who whines about his horrible life whenever someone challenged him on his bad behaviour.

But more than anything else, his music became a reflection of his inner-self – the Music of Dorian Grey – a gnarled, ghastly, self-pitying, over priced, self-indulgent slab of misery.

He might have wondered who was responsible for the decreasing quality of his music. He probably blamed it on the boogie but he should’ve blamed it on the man in the mirror.

We mourned the loss of the young Jacko a long time ago, all that’s died is the ghost that replaced him.