Love him or despise him, you can’t contradict the favour Michael Jackson had on favourite music. His iconic moonwalk. His trademark sequined glove. Billy Jean. Wanna Be Starting Somethin’. Beat It. Bad. Black or White. The catalogue is as extended as the contract with representing the ferris swing at the Neverland Ranch. And the songs. large Michael Jackson was the Elvis of the ’80s. And ya commemorate, in discomfit of all the kinky wacky shit he pulled representing the finish finally decade and a half, and the dirt that he robbed us of thousands of hours of our TV time with his nonconforming interviews, his unintelligible antics and his professedly genius trials, I’m gonna schoolgirl him.
The Beatles of the next establishment.
So thanks, Michael. Thanks representing letting us all reel with you.