He was, of course, bigger than his music. But Michael Jackson was music first, and it was dynamic, ear-tickling music that pulsed and flirted and jived — and prepped us decades ago for what we listen to now.
Even in death, his musical legacy — which sparkles with immediacy and crackles with inventiveness — will likely live strong.
“He was like a shooting star,” said Barry Fey, the legendary Denver-based concert promoter who booked at least six Jackson shows in Colorado over the years. “He came, and he shined so brightly, and now he’s gone.”
The pop icon’s influence reaches far beyond the numbers, which are record-breaking. He won 13 Grammys, had 13 No. 1 records and sold hundreds of millions of albums worldwide.
Jackson’s decades-long musical career started in the late 1960s when he and his four brothers, the Jackson 5, bounded onto the scene, helping Motown records reach across the divides of race and musical genre. They scored four punchy, pre-disco No. 1 songs in a row: “I Want You Back,” “ABC,” “The Love You Save” and “I’ll Be There.”
It continued through the ambitious, if not-so-successful, comeback attempt “Dangerous,” released in 1991.
Melded voice with visuals
In that time, Jackson earned the title so often associated with him, and his pop kingdom spanned the entire Earth. Brilliantly, he used music videos to further his reach, revolutionizing the way they were created and marketed. From the epic mini-movie that is “Thriller” to the 1995 video for “Scream” — the most expensive music video ever made — much of Jackson’s best product is visual.
But he will most often be remembered for his songs. His silken voice was singular among male pop artists. Sometimes his vocals were interchangeable with those of his famous sister, Janet. And his fashion — the sequined glove, the satin jackets, the custom fedoras — was emulated wherever his music was heard.
In Colorado, the Denver Police Department treated a Michael Jackson concert the same way it would a Beatles show or an Elvis appearance.
“He had crowds similar to Elvis and the Beatles,” said former division chief Jerry Kennedy, who was the off-duty work coordinator for the Police Department from 1962 to ’87. “His fans were exuberant and enthusiastic, and they wanted to touch the King. We had to beef up security and the police force around him every time he came through.”
Kennedy witnessed a Jackson 5 show at the Denver Coliseum in August 1971 and the Jacksons’ “Victory Tour” dates at Mile High Stadium in September 1984. He had been promoted by the time Michael returned for three solo concerts at McNichols Arena in March 1988 in support of “Bad,” none of which sold out, signifying a career downturn.
“Around the world, only Elvis, the Beatles and Bing Crosby sold more albums in their careers,” said Bill Werde, editorial director at trade magazine Billboard.
Jackson earned those numbers. For two decades he wrote and sang some of the most influential music of the era. Fans remember that Jackson and Prince were alternating reigns on the charts, on the the dance floor, in fans’ hearts.
“Great crossover artist”
But it was Jackson who, throughout the ’70s and ’80s, pushed forward the boundaries of pop music, laying the groundwork for modern R&B and moving pop culture toward a place where it could widely embrace the hip-hop production that has dominated sounds for the past decade. Would we have Justin Timberlake without “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough,” Chris Brown without “Smooth Criminal,” Usher without “Beat It?”
“He was an incredible entertainer,” said Lou Vason, who handled much of the African-American entertainment for Fey throughout the ’80s. “He was one of the smartest entertainers in terms of being an entrepreneur, and part of that was him being such a great crossover artist.”
Vason remembers the major controversy of the Jacksons’ 1984 Victory Tour, which played Mile High Stadium on Sept. 7-8, drawing more than 100,000 fans. The tour was sponsored by Pepsi — yet it played many Coke-sponsored venues that had to make the soda switch for the show dates.
Jackson’s later life was plagued with more serious controversies — the odd plastic surgery, the dark accusations at Neverland Ranch, painkiller addictions. Those issues pushed Jackson’s music to the side, so much so that neither rock historians nor fans can talk about his career without the presence of an asterisk.
Controversy is a real part of Jackson’s life, but his legacy — the music that made fans dance and weep and sing along — remains intact, and it’s as essential in 2009 as it ever was.
Ricardo Baca: 303-954-1394 or rbaca@denverpost.com
John Moore and John Wenzel contributed to this report.
