The filler - “Speed Demon,” “Dirty Diana,” arguably “Liberian Girl” - is Michael’s filler, which makes it richer, sexier, better than Thriller‘s forgettables: “Baby Be Mine,” “P.Y.T. Comparisons with Thriller are unimportant, except this one: even without a milestone recording like “Billie Jean,” Bad is a better record. Nor should it matter to anyone but the beneficiaries of its anticipated sales whether Bad moves 4 or 12 or 50 million units. Does “God, I need you” in the carnal duet “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You” constitute blasphemy in the wake of his departure from the Witnesses? Is the liner note to “Mother & Joseph Jackson” a tea leaf of familial discord or a casual term of address? Does anyone really care? Let the paid Encinologists comb through the small print for clues to understanding Jackson’s complicated world. But adolescent stardom, Jehovah’s Witnesses wackiness and unadulterated genius have kept this faux-porcelain elephant man more childlike than any oxygen-tank sleeping device ever could.īad is the work of a gifted singer-songwriter with his own skewed aesthetic agenda and the technical prowess to pursue it. Agreed, he is a young man, emotional age about thirteen, with a young man’s interest in cars, girls, scary movies and gossip.
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