My Family, The Jacksons
 
 
     I saw Michael mostly in passing in 1982 -- it was his busiest year yet as a solo artist. He wrote and produced the Diana Ross hit “Muscles,” as a token of appreciation for her friendship over the years. He collaborated with his friend Paul McCartney on several songs. And he narrated E.T.: The Extraterrestrial, the storybook LP of the Steven Spielberg film.

     These projects would have amounted to a good year’s work for some people. But Michael actually sandwiched the projects in between work on Thriller, his second solo album for Epic Records. This was the album Michael had earlier pledged to me, that would stand the music world on its ear. Now he was telling me it was going to become the biggest-selling album of all time.

     It’s not like Michael to set a goal without also laying out a battle plan. In the case of Thriller, he knew just how he was going to make it a blockbuster hit: through the use of the best song videos ever.

     At the time, music videos were just beginning to come into their own as a record-promotion tool. But Michael had already been a fan of video for a couple of years. In 1980 he and the brothers had made an ambitious eight-minute film utilizing the song “Can You Feel It.” The boys screened the video at the beginning of their Triumph shows.

     Of course, before you can shoot a great video, you have to have a great song. When Michael was at home in 1982, he could usually be found behind closed doors in his room with pen in hand. He’d let me know he was still alive every now and then by letting out a “Whoo!” and clapping his hands -- his way of celebrating a good idea.

     After finishing a song that he wanted to use for the album, Michael would record a demo of it himself in the studio next to our garage. Then he’d play the demo for me and whoever else was around, to get our feedback.

     One of the first tunes he played for me was “Billie Jean.”

     My first reaction was disbelief -- I couldn’t believe Michael had written such a tough-sounding song. Michael is not the macho type, so I figured that he was making a conscious effort with “Billie Jean” to change his image. I think he felt that his image had become too goody-goody.

     Once I recovered from my shock, I heard “Billie Jean” for what it was, a number-one song.

     It immediately struck more than a musical chord with me. Michael and his brothers had been plagued by Billie Jean -- or aggressive girls -- ever since the earliest days of the Jackson Five. It had really worried me, to the point where I sat the boys down one day and told them, “Watch out. Any time a girl comes running after you, she’s probably not the right one.” While the real Billie Jean -- including girls who actually claimed that one of the boys had fathered their child -- had caused the Jacksons grief, the subject matter certainly made for interesting song lyrics.

     Michael’s demo track spelled “hit,” too. When Michael later played the tape for Quincy, Quincy liked everything but the bass part. He tried to get Michael to change it, but when Michael feels strongly about something he can’t be moved, and he felt strongly about that bass line. I’m glad he held his ground. Like him, I thought the bass part was one of the best things about the track.

     However, I was puzzled when Michael played me his demo of “Beat It.” Even though I knew Michael was a big fan of the movie West Side Story, I thought, Why would he want to write a song about two gangs choosing each other off? It took a few more listenings before I realized that the lyrics actually contained a positive message. True bravery, Michael was claiming, is settling differences without resorting to violence.

     Michael filmed videos of each song. I saw the “Billie Jean” video first and thought it was mysterious and stunning to watch. But, as good as it was, it wound up taking a backseat to the “Beat It” video.

     It was Michael’s idea to hire actual Los Angeles gang members to appear as extras. The video began with shots of these young toughs preparing to rumble, and it didn’t look as if they were acting.

     The tension builds as the two gangs edge closer and closer to full-scale war. Just as the first switchblades slash through the air, however, Michael bursts onto the scene, singing, “It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right!” Instantly, the gangs are whipped into line -- a dance line” And Michael leads the way with his great assortment of dance moves.

     Michael premiered the “Beat It” video for the family in our home theatre. When it was over we stood up, applauded, and hugged him. That’s how fantastic we all thought it was.

     As any fan of Michael’s can attest, both “Billie Jean” and “Beat It” were fated to become giant hits for him. They and “The Girl Is Mine,” Michael’s duet with Paul McCartney, kept Thriller at the top of the charts for the first few months of 1983.

     But by May, sales of Thriller had begun to slow. If Thriller was going to have a chance of becoming the best-selling album of all time, Michael had to do something to reverse Thriller’s slide. He did during the TV special “Motown 25: Yesterday, Today, Forever,” broadcast on May 16.

     Ironically, Michael had to be talked into appearing on the special with his brothers. I was one of the people doing the talking.

     “Motown did give you and the brothers your start,” I reminded him. “And you’d be performing on the same stage as all the acts you idolized when you were a little boy.”

     Michael agreed to think about it. When Berry Gordy paid him a personal visit in the studio one day to do some coaxing of his own, Michael finally said okay. He made one stipulation to Mr. Gordy: that he perform “Billie Jean” after he participated in a medley of Jackson Five hits with his brothers. “Billie Jean” would be the only non-Motown song on the entire program, but how could Mr. Gordy refuse?

     I was excited about the boys’ participation in the TV special not only because it would mark their first appearance together since the Triumph tour, but also because they would be performing again with Jermaine.

     Dissatisfied with his record sales, Jermaine had recently left Motown himself. He left a Motown legacy of seven albums released between 1976 and 1982, including his “double platinum” 1980 LP, Let’s Get Serious, featuring the hit single of the same title.

     Hazel had supported Jermaine’s decision to ask for his release from Motown. Mr. Gordy added a gracious note of his own when he said that the professional split with his son-in-law “was not only amicable, but wrapped in love.”

     Needless to say, the family was delighted to welcome Jermaine back into the group.

     The boys rehearsed their segment at the house. One problem they had to deal with was what to do with Randy. I’m sure Randy’s heart sank when he heard Michael declare, “You know, Randy can’t be on the show because he joined the group after we left Motown.” But the boys decided to have Randy walk out during their medley.

     I was anxious to get an idea of what they were planning to do onstage, but, watching the boys, “rehearse,” I barely had a clue. This is what had always burned me up about their rehearsals. They’d just stand around as they sang.

     “You’ve got to sell yourselves!” I used to exclaim. “We’re going to have a lousy show tonight!”

     “We got shy rehearsing in front of you and the other relatives,” they’d always reply.

     “Oh? How come your not shy performing in front of thousands of people in an arena, then?”

     They had an answer for that one, too: “Because, Mother, those people don’t know us.”

     As for Michael’s performance of “Billie Jean,” I had no idea whatsoever about what he planned to do. Not only did he not walk through the song, but he refused to talk about it.

     “Motown 25” turned out to be a wonderful show. It was number one in the Nielsens, and was destined to win an Emmy.

     Among the show’s many highlights: Smokey Robinson performing again with the Miracles; Diana Ross sharing the stage again with the Supremes; the Four Tops and Temptations participating in a mock “battle of the bands” segment; and of course, the reunited Jacksons creating their special brand of excitement.

     After the boys’ medley, Michael stood alone in the spotlight.

     “Those were the good old days,” he said of the “oldies” he had just sung with his brothers. “But what I really like are the newer songs.”

     At that moment, “Billie Jean’s” heavy beat kicked in.

     Recognizing the intro, many in the audience were instantly on their feet. Being all of five feet, two inches tall, I had to jump to my feet, too, if I wanted to see anything.

     As Joe sprang up next to me, he announced, “Michael just stole the show!”

     “Shut up! He hasn’t done anything yet!” I exclaimed.

     Michael did something soon enough: the Moonwalk. So this is his surprise, I said to myself.

     Contrary to popular opinion at the time, the Moonwalk -- in which the dancer seems to be walking forward and backward at the same time -- was not new. Blacks performed the move in film shorts dating back to the thirties. Michael loves to watch old movies, and he’d studies those shorts.

     Michael also loved the films of the French mime Marcel Marceau. Marcel could glide the same way. He was an influence on Michael, as well.

     So were the gang members who were then performing the move on the streets. That’s where the term “Moonwalk” originated.

     But it was Michael who made the Moonwalk famous during his electrifying performance of “Billie Jean,” a performance that would earn Michael an Emmy nomination himself.

     The brothers, who watched Michael’s segment on the TV monitors backstage, couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Michael hadn’t clued them about the Moonwalk, either. He wanted his family, as well as the TV audience, to be surprised.

     A few days later, we learned just how big that TV audience was: forty-seven million people. And tens of thousands of them went out hunting for Michael’s album the next day, returning Thriller to number one on the charts.

     By the fall of 1983, Thriller had yielded two more hits “Wanna Be Startin’ Something” and “Human Nature.” As the album’s sixth single, “P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing),” began to climb the charts in October, Michael made a fateful decision to film a third video. He selected the title tune, Rod Temperton’s fun, and spooky, tale of a night spent viewing horror movies.

     As visually oriented as the song “Thriller” was, I was skeptical when I first heard of Michael’s plans to film it.

     “You’re not going to be able to top the ‘Beat It’ video," I said.

     “Oh, ‘Thriller’ is going to be better,” Michael replied.

     “How can it possibly be better?”

     “Just wait,” he said confidently.

     As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait to see the finished product to know that Michael was right. One visit to the set made me a believer. Everywhere I turned I rubbed elbows with an incredibly made-up “monster.” The kids are going to love this video, I thought.

     At fourteen minutes length, “Thriller” qualified as a mini-movie. It featured a protagonist, Michael, who graphically proves that he’s “not like other guys,” a shocked and bewildered girlfriend, an unspeakably creepy graveyard scene, and the darndest Monster Mash ever filmed .... with Michael, of course, getting in his latest kicks.

     The “Thriller” video had its world premiere on MTV in December 1983. Soon afterward, Thriller, the album, was back at number one. If that wasn’t enough excitement for the month, Michael ended 1983 with the number one single in the country: his “Say, Say, Say” duet with Paul McCartney.

     Needless to say, when the twenty-sixth annual Grammy Awards rolled around in February 1984, Michael was the heavy favorite to walk away with an armful of statuettes. This time he wasn’t disappointed.

     We had a tipoff that he would have a big night at the Shrine Auditorium when he won three of four secondary awards that he was nominated for in the earlier untelevised portion of the show.

     As he sat in the first row with his date, Brooke Sheilds, during the “prime time” portion of the telecast, Michael heard his name called for the first time for Album of the Year. After that he was up and down so many times accepting awards -- he won a record-setting eight in all -- that Joe and I didn’t have a chance to say anything to him except “Congratulations!,” even though we were sitting directly behind him.

     I was really, really proud and happy for him. I kept thinking, Well, this has made up for Off The Wall. I didn’t even mind the fact that he had shades on for the entire show, the way he’d done the month before at the American Music Awards. It was his image for the night just something he wanted to do. You know how kids are.

     Michael knew that a big victory at the Grammys would boost Thriller sales. But I think that even he was shocked when he learned how many more copies the album had sold in the first three months of 1984: seven and a half million.

     During the early part of 1984, the song “Thriller” became the album’s seventh Top Ten single, a record-breaker.

     But the goal that Michael cared about the most was to have the best-selling album ever. And in the spring of 1984, Thriller had sold more than enough copies to warrant an investigation by the Guinness people.

     Their findings were published in The Guinness Book of World Records: 1984: Thriller, at thirty-five million-plus copies sold, had surpassed the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack album to become the number-one-selling album of all time.

     Michael’s dream had come true, thanks to a collection of nine great songs, four wonderful videos, two triumphant awards-show appearances, and one unforgettable TV performance.

     The question now was: What could Michael do for an encore?

     Joe, it turned out, already had the answer.