Jackson, for all his legendary-ness, was simultaneously a joke. The tabloid media dubbed him “Wacko Jacko,” and he was regarded as something of a mad genius, the wizard of weird. An eternal outsider, he was like the man-child who fell to earth. His oddness perhaps made him more vulnerable to the abuse allegations that have so damaged his legacy. Whether we believe them or not, most of us will never again be able to listen to Jackson’s music in the same way.
But here’s the catch: The music still holds up. It made him the biggest superstar in the world and catapulted him to near-mythic status. While Beyoncé’s Beyhive has taken unconditional fandom to extremes, the cult of Bey revolves more around her starpower than unprecedented creative brilliance. She rides musical trends with deft awareness, but she doesn’t invent them the way Jackson did.
Jackson is a 50-year-old cultural movement that remains perpetually in motion. He created the soundtrack to our lives, and even if it’s no longer blaring from every speaker, it left a mark on the black community, on the world, that’s more indelible than that of any music legend, with the exception of Elvis Presley and The Beatles.
Jackson has been gone for nearly a decade, and in some ways, his impact remains undimmed. With “Thriller,” he paved a way for black artists into the white mainstream and set an example for child stars hoping to successfully transition into adult icons. Without him, there might have been no Whitney Houston, no Janet Jackson, no Beyoncé. No black musician, living or dead, has impacted black and white culture more than Michael Jackson.
If he had never entered our lives, black music – black history – would not be the same. No matter what becomes of his reputation, his artistic contributions are untouchable. Neither scandal nor time can diminish them.
