(Michael in his iconic "The Way You Make Me Feel" Look)
Yes, the album was released in August of 1987. (Oh the 80s, how I miss them. Back when music was music, and not bullshit like it is now.)
With the release of “Bad 25” slated to hit shelves later this year, I got to thinking.
I want to blog about my impressions of the album and how it really shaped my life as a Michael Jackson fanatic.
Picture it, the year was 1995, and I had just gotten into Michael Jackson after seeing him in an interview. I bugged the hell out of my poor mother for nearly a month to buy me one of Michael Jackson’s album.
And finally, just shy of strangling me to death, Mom agreed to get a Michael Jackson album for me.
It was just so exciting for me, at only nine years old to go to the record store--which was only a few blocks from my house.
Even though I had been a fan for a only a few weeks, I was in love with Michael from the get-go and hungry to get my little hands on anything that had to do with him.
I remember going up to the counter and asking just as proudly,
“I’d like to see your Michael Jackson tapes, please.”
And I distinctly remember the man laying out the “Thriller” album, the “Bad” album and the “HIStory” album.
I remember scooting the 2-tape “HIStory” album away because at the time, it’s 35 dollar price tag was more than I could afford. (That was before I learned I could choose MJ over food!)
Can you believe I skipped over “Thriller” because I didn’t recognize MJ on the cover. I was used to him only being pale-skinned with straight black hair and it was completely lost on me that the man with the darker skin and Jherri-Kurl was the same man.
So I was left with the “Bad” album, which was the only one with a picture of Michael I recognized.
It was only 10 dollars and I was happy as a clam to have my hands on it. I got out to my mom’s van and yanked the cellophane off of it, laughing because I thought Michael looked all cute in his black leather and buckles, trying to be tough.
Michael Jackson--tough. That’s a gas.
My mom was actually insisting I play the tape and for a minute I was scared because, the album was called “Bad” and Michael did look kind of street. I was so afraid all kinds of curse words were gonna come off of that record. But thankfully, it was so clean you could have eaten off of it. And I played that album night and day, over and over until I literally could take every breath Michael took, make every noise he did. The album seeped into my psyche and melded with my DNA or something. It was in me.
As a youngster, I really didn’t know how huge Michael Jackson was. How big of a deal he was.
I just knew he was gorgeous and I liked how he sang. I mean I was nine years old. I didn’t know.
But I was learned quickly.
It seemed laid out for me that everything I got influenced with that was Michael Jackson in the first three years of my devotion to him were centered around the “Bad” album.
When I was 12, I went to the video rental store and found two VHS tapes that changed my life. “Moonwalker” and “Michael Jackson: The Legend Continues” Both were centered around, what else, The Bad Tour. I can’t tell you how many times I rented and watched those tapes. I am quite certain it numbers into the hundred. I now have both shows on VHS tape and DVD. (Because I’m a freaking awesome fan, of course!)
I mean my summer days were spent lounging in bed or in the den with Michael on TV. I mean it was so weird to me to NOT see Michael on my TV. It was almost like an addiction. I had to see him.
It got so bad, to the point where my mother actually forbade me to rent either tape.
Oh, I still rented it. I begged my dad to get them for me, he did and I’d watch them before my mom got home from work--hiding it under my mattress till the next day. And that went on for YEARS. I rented it so often I felt like it was practically mine and I’d be pissed off if someone else had rented it.
It was just fantastical to me to watch Michael perform and see how a stadium or arena filled up for him. See the fans screaming and crying and fainting and losing their shit over him.
It made me so proud. To stand up and say yeah, I love Michael Jackson, he’s the best (and suck on that!)
I was really smug about Michael as a kid. I mean I was a damn snob. It’s the truth. No one stood up to him to me. I’d always compare other to Michael and it would be an Epic Fail on their part. Like I couldn’t be bothered with any other artists.
While I am a little more tolerant of other artists, Michael is still my number one. Totally.
Back on topic:
Over the years, I’ve collected various trinkets from the “Bad” era. I have music videos, magazines, newspaper clippings, the vinyl, a doll that I had to send to China for. I mean it’s really no limit to what I want to get if I can afford it without starving to death. LMAO.
Even now, looking at certain videos or hearing certain songs take me back to a time of just unbridled glee that Michael provided for me.
People don’t see me too happy nowadays, but with Michael I get happy. And I appreciate him so much for that.
Michael Jackson makes me happy.
It’s the most wonderful thing he’s given me, I think.
And the “Bad” album will live on as my singular favorite album of all time.
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