Oct. 30, 2001 witnessed the commencement of a double dose of MJ comebacks. The two men sharing those initials both have overwhelming ego and pride as their main impetus, but no one can argue the almost god-like eminence they have achieved and very few people realistically expect them to immediately perform as they did on the top of their game.
But the similarities end there. Michael Jordan's road back has been paved with sepia-toned nostalgia worthy of the Brooklyn Dodgers and ESPN Classic marathons. His falls from grace were seen as little more than misguided competitiveness, and if the Wizards don't win the championship, fine. He's done enough.
Michael Jackson doesn't have such leeway. You figured it would have to be a truly messed-up world when we'd be asking the man who dubbed himself "The King Of Pop" for answers. It sure is, though, and we need to know where Michael stands. America hasn't ever been comfortable with a Jacko that has laid somewhere in between absolute ubiquity and obscurity. The almost macabre fascination of the press with MJ's comeback would be pretty worthless if Alien Ant Farm out-sells him.
Though one can argue all day about Jackson's relevance, the question remains: Is "Invincible" something you want to listen to? Well, "Invincible" is a lot like I expect Jordan's first year back to be - at times brilliant, at times not so brilliant, and although the MJs may not be able to run with the youngsters as well as they used to, the kids can learn a thing or two from them.
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Longtime collaborator Teddy Riley is still on Team MJ, but the main man behind the boards this time is Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins, crafter of the best non-Timbaland R&B track of the 21st century, Destiny Child's "Say My Name." Jerkins makes his presence felt on the opening troika: "Unbreakable," "Heartbreaker" and the title track usher in 21st-century Jackson and give him considerable bang (and bounce) for what probably was a mind-boggling amount of bucks.
Jackson's voice remains as singular as Bob Dylan's and the wide-screen musical gestures make most R&B sound like the work of charlatans. Most tracks stretch for five minutes as Jackson breaks typical pop convention by modulating keys or actually letting a beat breathe for a minute. The undeniable virility of "Unbreakable" and "Privacy" will let the whole world know who's bad, but they don't sound too out of place on what's a surprisingly mellow album.
The a capella intro to "Speechless" might leave you just that, while the quiet storm of "Butterflies," "Break Of Dawn" and "Heaven Can Wait" confidently is old-school and sweet, slow and thick as molasses.
While "HIStory" had all the emotional subtlety of a Bone Thugs 'N Harmony video, "Invincible" leaves room for plenty of pleasant surprises: a lost rap from Biggie, the snapping-camera effects in "Privacy" and best of all, "2000 Watts," a duet with Tyrese that recalls the kinetic fun of "Off The Wall." Note to remixers: It's a Jay-Z cameo away from radio domination.
Lyrically, Michael Jackson's songs usually fall into three categories: leave me alone, women are trouble (but not you, pretty young thing) and save the children or the whales, whatever happens to be the more pressing need. "Invincible" has its share of tracks that are guilty of rehashing these themes (who isn't?), but Jackson stashed a few tricks in his glove.
The rainy-day ambivalence of the two lovers in "Whatever Happens" will make you swear the Cure's Robert Smith is now on Jackson's payroll. As the sublime drawers-dropper "Heaven Can Wait" fades out, Jackson pleads "leave us alone," and never has his conviction in that oft-mentioned sentiment been more convincing.
The "Thriller"-redux "Threatened" really should have sucked, spoken-word interludes and all. On first listen, you might think lines like "my face is the walls," and "you should feel threatened" are indicative of Jackson's overwhelming hubris. But then it becomes clear that it's more along the lines of Marilyn Manson's "The Man You Fear" - Jackson donates his monster image to the concept that your fear of him may enlighten you to the many demons that one encounters, real and imagined.
Ultimately, like "Dangerous," "Invincible's" two biggest flaws are its length and its questionable sequencing. I have yet to hear a 77-minute album that can be listened from end to end repeatedly. Heck, what chance does anyone have if even the Beatles' "White Album" had filler? Jackson tends to repeat himself, and the order of the tracks does little to hide it. "Heartbreaker" and "Invincible" are consecutive tracks that are almost the same exact thing. Jackson describes the allure of a hard-to-get woman over a simmering dance beat and this new guy named Fats delivers a quickie rap at the same point in each song, continuing Jacko's affinity for hefty men of note (Biggie, Heavy D, Homer Simpson).
Around the 55- to 60-minute point, when album fatigue usually sets in, we get hit with three straight ballads. "Don't Walk Away," which features an always-welcome Slash solo, and the R. Kelly-penned "Cry" hold their own against Michael's best slow jams. Jackson does each one an injustice by ordering them successively, and smack-dab against the generic weepie "The Lost Children."
The problem with evaluating "Invincible" is that Jackson's talent and ability to make a great album haven't changed, but the world around him has. When "Billie Jean" came out, he might have been the only black face you saw on MTV that day. For crying out loud, Lionel Richie, Eddie Murphy and Rockwell were his main competition in R&B. With hip-hop now reigning and the pop world more splintered than ever, Michael Jackson is now just another man competing for your entertainment dollar.
While "Invincible's" music speaks for itself, you wish Jackson did himself a few more favors; like P. Diddy with "Forever," he sets himself up for a critical field-day if his misguidedly-titled album doesn't push 10 million in sales. It probably won't, but you hope the fact that "Invincible" is a quality album even if it's still in its wrapper will be of some vindication for Michael Jackson.
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