Gentleman of Leisure: "Off the Wall"

Gentleman of Leisure is writer, erstwhile lecturer and notionally overeducated Martin Marks's PAPERMAG column on the things he likes and why.

When questioned about the identities of my favorite musicians, I’ve always said that Levon Helm (and Robbie Robertson, Rick Danko, Richard Manuel, and Garth Hudson of the Band) and Diana Ross (along with Florence Ballard, Mary Wilson, and Betty McGlown of the Supremes) formed the Holy Trinity of American Popular Music. This has been my strongly held belief for many years, and I’d only concede two points in the matter: that The Band was four-fifths Canadian, and that, as per its name, a Trinity usually suggests a triad of something. For some reason, I was never willing to reveal who I thought should join Mr. Helm and Ms. Ross at the top of America’s musical pantheon. Sadly, the third member of this Trinity passed away yesterday. And so, I thought I’d spend some time talking about what this humble columnist believes to be one of the greatest records of all time, Michael Jackson’s Off the Wall.

Off the Wall was Jackson’s first solo album, and the first of its kind. As a toddler, the album’s title track was my second favorite song, my favorite being Wham!’s “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” (Sometimes, I cannot adjudicate for my infantile tastes). “Off the Wall” –- along with the rest of the album –- transcended disco, pop, Motown, and funk to create an eminently danceable mix of riffs and beats. I speak, of course, from experience, having first danced to Off the Wall’s “Don’t Stop ‘til You Get Enough” when I could barely stand. In college –- arguably, on other occasions when I could barely stand -– friends used to hold Jackson dance parties in their dorm rooms. And so grew my enamourment with most of Jackson’s catalogue.

During his later years, we began to see Jackson as an amalgamation of characters right out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales –- the Evil Prince, the Good Prince, the Imprisoned Princess, the Ugly Duckling, and the Frog. (As Neil Young once told us, perhaps it’s better to burn out than it is to rust.) In large part, this MJ was a reaction to his own sense of isolation, and to us. All at once, we forgot is the “We are the World” Michael Jackson, who did, in fact, help millions of children, none of whom ever spent a nanosecond at the Neverland Ranch. Perhaps I am alone in saying that I will miss that lone sequined glove, the white socks peeking out from the cuffs of tuxedo pants. Now that the King of Pop is gone, we are thankfully left with his very great music.

Next week, I'll go back to my regularly scheduled column, filled with the usual rants and raves about hair care products and discontinued brands of tonic water. But for now, I want to rock with you.