Madonna was better than Michael Jackson

The reviews of Michael Jackson’s Xscape are pouring in as we speak, and nobody is really impressed. Yet somehow, the posthumous release has hit number one in over 50 countries. But why? What’s so interesting about Jackson’s vocals being layered over a bunch of tracks by pop stars nobody gives a shit about in 2014? Nothing—we’re just obsessed with dead musicians (Tupac anyone?), and it will never stop. Even if the music is average, or just plain bad.

Jackson’s latest, without even giving it a proper listen, couldn’t even be close to the regurgitated “You Rock My World” vomit off 2001′sInvincible, which included a music video that felt like a “Smooth Criminal” parody or some Disneyland supercut of bad Michael Jackson clichés, starring Marlon Brando on a couch.

And what the fuck is up with the cover art for Xscape? It looks like they pulled this off some 4chan thread titled “Michael Jackson is an alien,” copied and pasted his head onto some glittering astronaut body, using a steel vomit bowl for a helmet. He looks like a discombobulated “Star Trek” villain being transported into his own face. Honestly, which Art Center dropout designed this shit?

No, I won’t waste my time listening to Jackson’s new record. “Love Never Felt So Good” is just another boring disco shitbomb, so no need to go beyond the horrid first single, penned by Jackson and Paul Anka in 1983 and unreleased for good reason. Speaking of shit from the past that nobody needs to listen to anymore, the new Jackson record includes reported contributions by Mary J. ...D’Angelo (again, I haven’t listened to the record, and probably won’t). If that’s true, it’s as if L.A. Reid got bored and decided to hand out a few paychecks. The Epic Record Chairman and CEO is even hinting at rumors of a Justin Bieber ‘collaboration’ with Jackson. But somehow, even under the shockingly bad tutelage of suits like Reid, people still go gaga over anything relating to Jackson.

The sudden rush of hero worship around Jackson’s latest record got me thinking about his overall legacy. First, let’s get beyond the most challenging point for most people to comprehend, one in which nostalgia and commerce need to be removed to truly understand:

Michael Jackson is overrated. Get over it. Does this piss you off? You’re not thinking logically.

With the exception of Thriller, the best selling album of all time, Michael Jackson’s solo career from 1979 to 1994 (no, Blood on the Dance Floor in ’97 doesn’t count), and not counting the horrid posthumous releases and an abortion of an album in 2001, was mostly just smoke a mirrors and great marketing. Theme parks, arcade games, sci-fi music videos, hanging out with kid from Home Alone–that was what made Michael Jackson popular after Thriller.

1979′s Off the Wall (his first real hit as a solo star) was a disco record that had two notable singles, “Rock With You” and “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough,” which at this point, are dated Studio 54 “bangers” that do nothing on the dance floor except remind people of how famous Michael Jackson was in 1979. After that, from 1980 to 1991, Jackson’s reign as the biggest pop star on the planet, culminated in just one masterpiece, Thriller, which signaled the beginning of the end.

Seriously, think about it, what did Michael Jackson do after Thriller?

Aside from a few outstanding tracks off 1987′s Bad (really,just “Smooth Criminal” and “Man in the Mirror”) the next decade wasn’t that great. In fact, it was bad.

Dangerous was filled with almost nothing but whining about his troubles. History, mostly a greatest hits record with a few political messages, wasn’t even close to as impressive as the kiss he shared with Lisa Marie at the MTV Video Music Awards in ’94. PR stunt? Sure, but it was more interesting than his music career at the time.

The two albums were footnotes that included two of the most bloated and unlistenable pop songs ever: “Jam” and “Scream.” And suddenly, before we had a chance to appreciate that stunning red leather jacket and those hyper-sexualized dance moves (which were awesome), Michael Jackson began to transform into some strange Kubrickian film character who kept giraffes as pets, dressed like Napoleon went glam. Somehow he managed to alienate even his most loyal fans by adopting a goofy Peter Pan complex and musically doing nothing for the rest of his life. He became an alien, that is.

Michael Jackson never evolved, and while his fans blame his perfectionism and troubled childhood on his post-Thriller downfall, I blame his lack of foresight and inflated ego.