 It's taken me a couple of days to become really, profoundly, and inexplicably depressed about Michael Jackson's death.
When it first happened, I was in absolute shock, but in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think that it wasn't really that surprising -- not the way he had physically abused himself over the years (between the drugs and the plastic surgery.) I guess it was the timing -- he wasn't holed up in a rented mansion somewhere in Dubai, dressing in a woman's burqua and dragging his kids around the place in masks -- he was in L.A., preparing for a concert that was sold out to the tune of some 750,000 tickets. This was no time to die. And yet, he did. But for me, this death is becoming increasingly like a personal loss. I'm not one of those people who ever owned a glittery glove, or dressed in a general's jacket. I liked -- even loved -- Michael Jackson when I was in elementary and middle school, but had developed more eclectic musical tastes by the time "Bad" came out. And yet, I guess I am kind of a sap.
I cried like hell when John Lennon died, even though I was too young to have been a Beatles fan (they were out before I was born.) But he died on my birthday. And I loved the song "Imagine."
I cried when Princess Diana died, even though I'm not English. It was just so damned sad, especially for her kids. I could relate to them, losing a mother at a young age.
Those are about the only major deaths I remember. More recent shockers, like Bernie Mac, or Gerald Levert, were awful, but not tear-inducing; not for me, anyway.
But this? Wow. It's really hitting me now. Michael Jackson Is Dead. Fini. I think it might have been a bad idea for me to play my MJ master-mix this morning, especially one of my favorite of his songs, "You Are Not Alone," written for Michael's "HIStory: Past, Present and Future" album by one R. Kelly. The lyrics alone are devastating:
Another day has gone
I'm still all alone
How could this be
You're not here with me
You never said goodbye
Someone tell me why
Did you have to go
And leave my world so cold
Everyday I sit and ask myself
How did love slip away
Something whispers in my ear and says
That you are not alone
For I am here with you
Though you're far away
I am here to stay
But you are not alone
For I am here with you
Though we're far apart
You're always in my heart
But you are not alone
It's also a reminder that Michael, like other great singers such as Whitney Houston and Elvis Pressley, didn't actually write much music. He was a performer -- the consumate performer, of songs written and produced by others. He channeled the creativity of other people, but did so in a way that couldn't have been duplicated, probably not even by the songwriters themselves. Michael's greatness was in his ability to create cinematic drama in a song, even before he started practically inventing the music video (credit where credit is due, the Beatles beat him to the punch on music video moviemaking, with "Yellow Submarine," which I also remember watching, and marveling at, as a kid... ) Watch the music video for "You Are Not Alone"here, if you dare, but have some tissues handy. Then as a pick me up, watch Michael at his absolute finest, here. See a listing of all Michael's albums and their contents (with links to lyrics) here.Labels: celebrity deaths, entertainers, Michael Jackson, popular culture |
