I know. I'm disappointed in me too. We had, like, half? this album on a tape in the car as a kid? But once I put it on I'm like "I've totally never heard some of these songs before."
Worse, I know this is part of his big 3, but I'm not a fan.
Not nearly as much fun as Off the Wall, not nearly as wildly inventive as Thriller, that awareness of needing to create a hit is all over this thing, in every overproduced detail, every samey gated snare. Skip to the 1 minute mark of Just Good Friends and then the 1 minute mark of Another Part of Me. Indistinguishable. Do the same thing at 1:30 or so on Liberian Girl and I Can't Stop Loving You, the same crooning and silk sheet strings. I think Quincy had just taken this thing as far as it could go.
Also, is there any better marker of someone who knows they don't have the songwriting goods than the guy who starts nearly every song with a dog bark, or motor growl, or synthy weird noise (which is why I got you skipping all over the place in that example up there). MJ in his prime didn't need to be his own hype man, the songs got right to being great songs without fucking around*.
There's no life here, it's Michael getting high on his own supply, and I think the slide into Dangerous started earlier than people want to recognize. And can anyone honestly tell me that this fake toughguy shit doesn't sound wack like wack by now?
There's hooks, but as I so often complain these days, it's not much fun. Only Smooth Criminal really seems vibrant, everything else is just working. so. hard. to. still. be. so. amazing. It's not cool, and it's not that good 2.5/5
* except, obviously, for Thriller. The beginning of the end?
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