I will vehemently defend a person’s right to make a livelihood (provided what they’re doing isn’t illegal or morally
disgusting), but Michael Jackson’s announcement Thursday that he’s performing a series of summer shows in London feels like that awful sensation you get in your stomach when you realize the car’s lost control on an icy road and you’re about to crash.
Jackson said the shows, to take place in July, will be his final performances, hasn’t performed a major live show in eight years and hasn’t released a studio album in the same time frame (remastered tracks and new additions were made, however, to last year’s re-release of “Thriller”).
The man makes Mr. Burns look healthy, and you mean to tell me he’s fit to perform major concerts? He probably can’t even open the lid on his garbage can, yet alone endure 2 1/2 hours of high-energy performing anymore.
And this comes from a Jackson fan (ignoring his many legal problems and quirky behavior, which can understandably turn may people off). His music remains relevant two and three decades later, and if people want to pay to see him sing it I guess that’s their business, but I just don’t think this is going to end well.
And I also have a hard time believing him when he says “This is really it. This is the final curtain call.” If he’s as hard-up for money as has been reported, how could he resist some promoter offering a big payday for “just one more show?” Granted, his image is probably too tarnished to perform stateside every again, but the King of Pop has fans worldwide, many of whom can ignore the oddities better than we Americans and enjoy Michael the singer.
For Michael’s sake, I hope I’m wrong, that we can turn into the skid and somehow get this vehicle moving forward again. I hope so, but I doubt it.