Assistere al debutto dal vivo del primo monowalk al mondo: che sensazione è stata?

The historic performance of “Billie Jean” from the album “Thriller” on March 25, 1983 is one of the most legendary moments in music history. Watching the recorded film of this performance is astonishing, but what did it feel like to sit among the audience and experience it live?

In this article, Steven Ivory talks about the memory of watching Michael Jackson’s live performance at the 25th anniversary celebration of Motown:

On the evening of March 25, 1983, I arrived at the Pasadena Civic Auditorium with a poorly fitted formal outfit in order to film the special 25th anniversary Motown event for the NBC network.

[According to Michael, six cameras were filming his performance simultaneously from different angles.]

Michael’s voice during the performance perfectly matched the movements of his lips, and even considering his skill at singing while dancing, it still seemed strange. What the cameras missed were the things that were happening among the audience: a wild, crazy chaos.

What now seems normal appeared magical and enchanting back then. We had never seen Michael Jackson like this before. Even for his brothers, who after a group performance were watching him from hidden corners of the stage—it was new for them too. It is said that Michael had finished working on his dance moves the day before the ceremony.

If you were a Jackson fan, you would have been happy that he had returned. If you were a Jackson fan and Black, you would have been immersed in musical pride. Something that went beyond pure music and decisively became part of American history.

Michael’s five-minute performance on stage, in a way, helped elevate Black people. After Jackson left the stage, the show had to pause briefly so everyone could regain their calm, and the audience men could adjust their ties, while the women adjusted their wigs.

It was as if Jackson had detonated a bomb in that place. He left the stage and left us to ourselves so that our heated discussions could take shape. A grim, muffled voice from the loudspeakers said: “Ladies and gentlemen, please sit down. The show isn’t over yet. We have more performances.” Performances? We had just watched a coronation ceremony. It wasn’t long before we were ordered to begin, and we finally sat politely to watch the continuation of the program, but all our attention was still on Jackson.

At the start of his exit from the stage, Michael said he was disappointed with his own performance. He wanted to stand still for a while on the tips of his shoes. He didn’t do that, but the hall couldn’t digest anything more than that. The crowd, seeing him again at the party after the ceremony, went into a frenzy. Jackson’s guards formed a barrier between him and an excited crowd made up of cheering fans, top-tier artists, high-ranking people, and others who were rushing toward him. As if they weren’t the ones who were the legends themselves. As if they hadn’t been influenced and inspired by this man’s music at the time. Chaos erupted. All Jackson’s guards could do was push him into his limousine parked on the street.

We had to wait weeks to air this performance on television. Was Jackson’s performance the only part of the program that received praise and attention? Yes—even for the Jackson family itself. Rebbie Jackson (Michael’s sister) told me that they recorded the show on television like any other audience across America. The next day, friends, stage managers, high-ranking people, and respected artists who had accepted the impact of this performance—started calling, sending flowers, and sending telegrams of praise. Rebbie says: “People were coming to Encino—our family’s house—day after day, as if someone had gotten married or had a baby. We watched the recorded video over and over every day until finally it broke and disappeared.”

The day after the 25th anniversary Motown ceremony aired on television, an upheaval began and a huge commotion erupted. The Thriller album was selling half a million copies a week in America. The album sold more than a million copies just in Los Angeles.

Years later, Quincy Jones told me that the high sales made him afraid: “At first I prayed that the album would sell, and then I wanted it to stop selling. It was selling too much. I was worried it might overshadow all my professional activities and become the only thing people remember.” Jones said that’s why he had a nervous breakdown, and when Jackson and Bruce Swedien started working on the album BAD, he was resting and recovering in the tropics. With respect to Quincy, I have to say that I enjoyed such a nervous breakdown.

People talk about Michael Jackson’s return. Return for what? For the perishable. After you become Michael Jackson, you don’t need to return. Michael Jackson is always there. He has a global style and his own unique musical presence. Come back and do what? He has already done it all. Michael Jackson, from Thriller—forever etched into history. He is exactly Michael Jackson.

Source: eMJey / EURweb