Michael Jackson
Off The Wall

THE REVIEW

The inspiration to talk to you about this album came to me just this past Saturday night, when I found myself, somewhat unwillingly, at a nightclub. I was in the middle of the dance floor, battered by sounds of no quality and no sense, when, stunned and riding on a negroni high, I entered another dimension (you know the dream-bathroom scene in Atalante by Jean Vigo?), and I found myself outside of the real world, not hearing any of its noises or voices. After a few moments, the music of "Off The Wall" returned to my ears, and I smiled thinking about what all those unfortunate sweaty folks in rolled-up sleeves were missing out on.

"Off The Wall" is the quintessence of the "dance" album, or at least an album meant to make humans dance. Michael (everyone calls him by his first name, as if they know him, and I do too) surprised the music world with this solo debut after a respectable career as the frontman of the Jackson5 / Jacksons, a group he formed with his brothers.
Even the last albums of the tween-band (especially "Destiny" from 1978) had hinted at something new and more mature than the cheerful pop-soul chart-toppers that Diana Ross's protégés had offered throughout the '70s. The path was evolving toward a still light, but more complex, accomplished, and thought-out funk. Then in 1979 came "Off The Wall", and everything changed.

The greatest decade of black music summarized in ten tracks, no more, no less. Obviously, not everything is here, because from the ’70s funk-soul, M.J. is exclusively interested in summarizing the most danceable and hedonistic side to create the ultimate genre album. And in the golden years of disco music, two years after the earthquake of Saturday Night Fever, this seemed like a feat. And it was, and to be such, the work had to achieve perfection, aided by extraordinary producers and composers like Quincy Jones and Rob Temperton and the blessing of two giants of the era like Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder, magi at the birth of the new king of pop, each bringing a song as a gift (respectively "Girlfriend" and "I Can’t Help It").

Jackson thus becomes the Frankenstein of today's musical world, a particularly talented boy bottled up at 13, stuffed with showbiz, interviews, autographs, and screaming girls instead of a normal life. Recognizing his extraordinary talents, he was squeezed like the last great golden goose of pop music, exploiting his innocence never accompanied by a developed maturity. It was like a Shirley Temple used and overturned until 30 rather than until 15. But here we can still see, more dazzling than ever, his genius, forgetting his and our problems, being moved by "She’s Out Of My Life" or running through the city to the rhythm of "Burn This Disco Out", worthy of the best Earth Wind & Fire. We can dream of moving for a night as if dancing was the most beautiful philosophy of life, as if it were vital and important as breathing or eating. It is, but until "Off The Wall" made us realize it, we didn’t know.

P.S.: the new edition is recommended, with -as bonus tracks- the demos of "Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough" and "Workin’ Day And Night", fabulous examples of the creation process of a masterpiece: Michael with his brothers at home creating songs with only maracas, the sisters' hand claps, sighs and blows in bottles, Roland keyboards instead of bass...a small pop crafting workshop at work. Unmissable.