A tribute to Michael Jackson was part of the lineup at the Capital Jazz Festival earlier this month. And as I sat in my lawn chair, snacking on fresh fruit (a cubed melon mix, highlighted with sweet cherries), I took in many who were jamming—and others with arms crossed and faces of resistance, refusing to let the music do what music do. Over ten years after his death, there remain strong camps on this.

I’ve listened to comments and debates over Michael Jackson (especially after the HBO documentary Leaving Neverland which aired years ago). We all have respective viewpoints. But when I watched the Studio-54 documentary on Netflix (Studio 54 The Documentary), I paused to consider where I stood with “listening” or “playing” his music was concerned—or, more importantly, I guess, with “enjoying” his music.

Viewing the part where a young Michael Jackson is in (the late) Steve Rubell’s back office at the club, I realized, given the unusual behaviors Mike exhibited over the years, we all knew something was “unusual” with him. The animals as friends and plastic-surgery overkill were indicators. The ‘vitiligo’ treatments and perpetual “Peter Pan” persona. We knew something wasn’t quite right—but buy his records, we did—making his albums bestsellers.

A Writing Very Much On the Wall

Jackson’s legal troubles in the nineties, related to child sex abuse, surprised…only a few. His music continued—and so did our purchases of it.

But, after HBO aired Leaving Neverland, we were all in an uproar again—because, with the accounts of two victims of Jackson’s alleged child abuse, there’s “proof”—of something many if not most suspected all along. The word alleged must be used because Mr. Jackson cannot defend himself, but well, there’s common sense and logic and circumstantial nuances and riveting recounting which…override that “alleged” word for the majority.

Anyway, Jackson’s posthumous tribute brings me to the issue of listening to his music.

To Listen or…?

Jackson’s death in 2009 left a range and depth of anguish and mental and emotional turmoil for his alleged victims (and their families) I cannot begin to understand, can only try to empathize with. But his death also left a legacy of unprecedented musical achievement—accomplished while the world considered inklings something was “off” with him.

I don’t listen to Jackson’s music regularly, but I’m not trashing any albums/CDs of his I’ve purchased, nor am I going out of my way to delete his music from a playlist here or there, or immediately changing a radio station (should stations continue airing his music) if “Off the Wall” comes on. I do, however, anticipate many people continuing rounds of extensive over-analyzing of his song lyrics. Debates will rage. Essentially, Jackson’s music was better than good—as the record books would indicate.

What Mr. Jackson allegedly (there’s that necessary word again) did was awful, and no, I don’t believe his talent as an artist should overshadow that, should negate it. Some of us can separate the two, separate the man from the music. And while, when it comes to the man, I won’t be buying any more music or merchandise out of Jackson’s camp (and thus increasing his estate’s bottom line), when it comes to the music, I won’t discount his talent as an artist, either.

And you know, the R. Kelly debacle, leaves me with the same non-future-purchase response, but with a different reasoning viewpoint entirely.

At the Capital Jazz Festival, my arms weren’t folded in protest (not that I wanted to, but snacking on cherries and cubed melon impeded any arm-folding anyway) but my “jamming” was limited…to an appreciative head-bob, separating the man from the music and letting Jackson’s music do what music do.

Until next time, stay serif.