brendan halpin

The Michael Jackson estate is workin’ workin’ day and night to get us to forget about the pedophilia and focus on his musical genius. Hell, even Jackson skeptics usually offer something along the lines of he was a genius who also happened to be a pedophile.

Michael Jackson was a gifted singer (for a while—more later) and performer, but he was not a musical genius. The musical genius was Quincy Jones. That’s why the three albums Jackson made with Jones are classics (kind of—more later) and the ones he made without Jones are…not classics.

I don’t know exactly what the process was in shaping those records, but my theory is for the songs he wrote, Jackson came in with a melody and some extremely unremarkable lyrics and Jones made a hit song out of it. (Again, see Dangerous, et. al for evidence of this theory).

But let’s look at those classic albums. Not one of them holds up from start to finish. There are some awful duds on each of those records. Admittedly, the hits are mostly absolute bangers, though if you can stomach a pedophile singing about a pretty young thing in 2026, you’re either tougher than I am or in serious denial, and “Wanna Be Startin’ Something” is basically a retread of “Shake Your Body Down to the Ground” and “Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough” with a little ripoff of “Soul Makossa” thrown in.

But nobody is cueing up “Speed Demon” or “Liberian Girl” or “The Girl is Mine” in 2026. The record industry blueprint for an album at that time was “hits and filler,” and while these records certainly had more hits than most, they are all about half filler.

So, okay, he couldn’t make a good album without Quincy Jones and he couldn’t make an album that holds up start to finish even with Jones’ help. But still, a great singer! Right? Well, yeah, until he destroyed his ability to sing. Go listen to “She’s Out of My Life”—flawless vocal performance, and one of the things that makes it work is that he had a gorgeous vocal tone. You can hear this in all of his pre-Thriller work. He had a beautiful voice and made great choices.

And then he decided to do violence to his face, specifically his nose, where that gorgeous voice resonated. I mean, not just his—your nose is key to your vocal tone. That’s why Barbra Streisand never got the nose job that probably would have helped her acting career—she didn’t want to ruin her voice. Michael had no such reservations.

Which is why, on Thriller and everything after, he starts with the hee hee chicka chicka bullshit. He can no longer depend on his voice to sell the song, so he starts making weird, desperate choices to try to put the song over. And we never got the equal of “She’s Out of My Life” out of him again.

I can’t fault his unparalleled talent as a performer. He not only commanded a stage in a way few artists have ever been capable of, but also created a “bizarre manchild too pure for this world” persona to disguise the fact that he was a monster. The man’s entire adult life was a performance.

But let’s be clear-eyed about not only his life, but also his career. In a solo career that lasted over 30 years, he released about 15 great songs, or enough to fill a single CD. Admittedly, that’s 15 more great songs than most artists release, but simply not in the same league as Stevie Wonder or Prince.

Michael Jackson was incredibly popular for about ten years. His songs are inextricable from the lives of an entire generation of people. But that doesn’t make him a genius.