The King is Dead; Long Live the King

I guess it's only fair that I start by saying that Michael Jackson was "The King of Pop" only in marketing terms, or at least for me. I have always found Stevie Wonder a more gifted and inspiring musician, and Jackson's death won't turn me into a liar.

But, for as much as I love Stevie's music, I also know that he hasn't, to date, produced any moment so magical as that night in the spring of 1983 when Michael Jackson literally grabbed a nation by the throat and demanded that they watch and listen, as they were about to see and hear something the likes of which they would never see or hear again.

I was in my dorm at Maryland on that May night when the NBC special marking the 25^th anniversary of the creation of Motown aired. The usual soundtrack of Annapolis Hall was rock or metal, but on this night, the sound emerging out of every room was the R&B music that had marked my childhood.

There were the six Jackson boys – Jackie, Tito, Jermaine, Marlon, Michael and Randy -- together for the first time in about six or seven years (thanks a lot Berry Gordy). They went through a medley of their hits, "I Want You Back," "ABC," and the haunting "I'll Be There."

Then, the other five left Michael alone on the stage. He talked for a moment about how much fun it was to do the old songs, but the time had come to do new stuff. That's when the unforgettable bass line of "Billie Jean" kicked in, and Annapolis Hall fell eerily silent, save for the unison of the song coming out of every room.

If all there was to the moment was the lip-syncing of the song, then that would have been amazing enough. But then Michael upped the ante by performing the moonwalk and popular music, heck, the American culture, would never be the same.

From there, a guy who had been a musical prodigy became arguably the world's most recognizable person, if not the most troubled.

I'd prefer, at least for a while, not to think about the eccentricities that marked Michael Jackson's last years, but rather dwell on the remarkable artistry he achieved. And, to be honest, I have never cared much for music videos. I think they've distorted the music industry, so while I appreciate the imagination of "Thriller" and "Beat It" and "Leave Me Alone," Michael's videos were never selling points for me.

Everyone has their favorite Michael Jackson song. I find it hard to limit to a couple, so I will quickly run through some of mine.

I have always loved the Jackson 5's covers of "Who's Loving You," and "Standing in the Shadows of Love," from their first album. Their version of "The Little Drummer Boy" from their Christmas album is gold, as is "Never Can Say Goodbye." And if you never thought you would hear soul and tenderness in a song about a rat, well you never heard "Ben."

The Jacksons' catalogue when they left Motown gets strangely overlooked, but "Blame It On The Boogie" and "Shake Your Body Down To The Ground" are brilliant dance pieces.

And if you have to get Michael Jackson work that you probably didn't already have, be sure and get "Triumph." It's the album with "Can You Feel It," "Lovely One," "Heartbreak Hotel,' and the suddenly ironic "Time Waits For No One."

There's one more song you ought to get. It's called "You Can't Win," and it's from the soundtrack of "The Wiz." The movie has been branded a flop, but it still resonates for many 30 years after the fact. Michael Jackson was introduced to Quincy Jones through this film, and all they did from there was collaborate on "Off The Wall," "Thriller," and "Bad." Nice productive friendship there, huh?

At any rate, "You Can't Win" is our introduction to Michael, the Scarecrow, and it is a rollicking tune that hints at the amazing work to come. The song opens with the lyric, "You can't win/You can't break even/And you can't get out of the game."

Alas, Michael Jackson got out of the game Thursday, having played it at a level few could ever aspire to. RIP.