Without him, Timberlake is nothing
As a pop fan, I would like to make a brief comment on the death of the self-styled King of Pop.
Michael Jackson's legacy, as far as I'm concerned, are the songs Don't stop til you get enough and Can you feel it. With the latter, it's to do with the tubular bells/timpani and the chord sequence. An astonishing piece of work.
I stopped giving a chimp called Bubbles about him in the 80s, when Bad came out. I remember cringing at the song I just can't stop loving you, which was just...well, weak...and Dirty Diana of course, which all the heavy metal guitaring in the world can't save from being cringeworthy. It all seemed so mannered, in a way that his earlier work didn't. By the time Bad had been released, I had given over my life to The Smiths and The Cure. Jacko didn't figure.
There were the stunts, of course. Oxygen tents. Floating a gigantic statue of himself down the Thames. Singing the Earth Song at the Brits, and having Jarvis waggle his arse at him. Dangling his kid over a balcony. Marrying Lisa-Marie Presley (and not living with her). Altering his face to look like Liz Taylor, and ending up looking like a melted version of his sister Janet. And the many allegations, of course.
That aside, and crazy weirdness aside, he was one of a kind (he was the original Michael Jackson, if you see what I mean). Hum this song and remember him before he went rubbish.
Back in the real world...cor, innit sticky? Living in our flat is a bit like being a boil-in-the-bag haddock fillet. As long as I'm outdoors, all is well. I'm thinking of constructing a bivouac down at the allotment.
Back in the real world...cor, innit sticky? Living in our flat is a bit like being a boil-in-the-bag haddock fillet. As long as I'm outdoors, all is well. I'm thinking of constructing a bivouac down at the allotment.
Labels: hot, michael jackson
posted by deafdisco @ 3:27 pm
2 Comments:
Timberlake is Navin R Johnson in the opening 10 minutes of The Jerk except someone has yet to reveal the truth about his biological parents.
If I was to go with a Jacko song, my CD's stuck on Off the Wall...the song. Smoother than a baby Alain de Botton's bottom. Or his head for that matter.
the jerk is one of my favourite films. i also like dirty rotten scoundrels, primarily for ruprecht the monkey boy:
"mother...not mother?"
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