Web Commonerprogressive politics, social commentary, and ramblings on pop culture

New evidence of Michael Jackson’s influence is popping up throughout the Internet in the form of tributes to the deceased entertainer. Friends and fans alike are passing along links to websites like Eternal Moonwalk, where a continuous loop of home videos shows people performing Jackson’s signature move. Other homages highlight his artistic genius, and one particular YouTube user is publishing video mash-ups that combine Jackson’s music with old footage of song-and-dance icons perceived to be his artistic inspirations from entertainment’s past. Check out the following series of clips that chronicle evidence of a historical evolution behind what eventually came to be Michael Jackson’s “Moonwalk.”

Other videos on the page carefully combine edited clips of “West Side Story” with Jackson’s “Beat It” and “Bad,” or clips of Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse dancing to Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal,” all skillfully crafted to demonstrate the entertainer’s obvious affinity towards show tunes, and their influence on his music, dance and videos. The significant difference between those historical gems and Jackson’s own art are the media that presented them, the silver screen versus MTV and the boob tube, which invariably led me to ponder how artistic influence gets recycled over time and through different mediums. As technology evolves and cultures change, valued art from the past gets passed on to succeeding generations, and shared influence continues to turn the wheels of inspiration, progress, and innovation.

Recently, Coldplay’s smash hit, “Viva La Vida,” sparked controversy over whether or not the British band lifted their song’s signature tune from an earlier recording of Joe Satriani’s “If I Could Fly.” The Internet and, more specifically, YouTube, became a sort of advanced interactive medium for fans to compare the music, discuss its transference, and indirectly share its inspiration and influence. To make matters more interesting, convincing compositions by other musicians including Enanitos Verdes and Cat Stevens got thrown into the mix, spanning almost twenty years of artistic works that seemingly influenced other works. Much of the matter’s discussion seems reminiscent of conversations that took place at the turn of the century when advances in production technologies brought Hip-Hop culture from block parties to the recording studio as artists began sampling old recordings to create entirely new music compositions.

In a society that sets high standards on the use of copy-written material, technology is once again testing the limits of artistic progress, and rekindling conversations that take place over the influence of past works. In the United States, arguments over copyright material are historically settled within the confines of America’s courtrooms, but new ideas fostering the free sharing of information via the Internet threatens to blow the hinges off the system’s doors. In the not-so-distant past, peer-to-peer sharing showed signs of destroying the business of record companies, which held a monopoly on music distribution, and lawsuits only gained them enough time to restructure their business models. Today, social networking sites like YouTube are excellent examples of mediums that allow for gross sharing of artistic property and ideas. Meanwhile, a new generation of entrepreneurs is setting aside outdated practices of intellectual protectionism by embracing a culture of sharing, most notably in open-source software development.

Regardless of which way the wind blows on future copyright law, shared influence among artistic works remains a powerful force that inspires human progress and innovation through time, a sort of transference of such subtle references to the past that they can quickly and easily be forgotten. Throughout human history, the past is what shapes our future and, since the day we learned to stand upright and speak, that yearning to share what we know and how we came to know it lingers within, like the blood flowing through our veins. It’s generally accepted that you cannot get something from nothing, especially within the spectacular realm of the shared human experience. So, without Copernicus, there would be no Galileo. Without Greek philosophy, no Roman democracy. Without Chuck Berry, no Beatles and, of course, without Fred Astaire, no Michael Jackson.

For some, Michael Jackson’s sudden death at 50 was sweet in the sense that it fostered a tremendous sense of love around the globe. He was such a beloved figure by so many people, and that love is reciprocating itself tenfold in their remembrance of a man who inspired and encouraged them to be better human beings. For others, it was bitter because he led such a tragic and tortured existence, one that was oftentimes difficult to witness and even harder to understand. For me, it was both. Many years ago, I let go of a person so incredibly admired throughout my childhood, not because of the legal accusations filed against him or the media crucifixion that followed, but simply because I no longer recognized him.

As I grew into adulthood, my childhood obsession with the King of Pop faded with his physical appearance, a face that no longer seemed to resemble the one I came to love and respect. At times, when I thought about Michael, it brewed within me a battle for my own conscience, fought over whether or not physical appearance should matter when it comes to respecting a good friend, or at least the perception of one. When all is said and done, I don’t think it was his physical appearance that truly bothered me. Instead, it was this nagging feeling from within that the man was on an inevitable path towards self-destruction, altering his body in what seemed to be a perfectionist’s pursuit to manifest the impossible. For many of us, the haunting question when it comes to Michael Jackson is what made a person so talented, loving, and caring drive him to do such unspeakable things to an already flawless appearance.

Much of the short term blame is placed on an alleged addiction to drugs, specifically painkillers, which may have contributed to Jackson’s visibly increasing physical frailty. The long term blame, though, is often directed at Joe Jackson. His brutish nature is no secret and many tabloids drew attention to it throughout Michael’s career, long before I matured to a point of understanding its effect on a child’s growth. In fact, most people don’t seem to deny that any of the Jackson kids really appreciate their father for relentlessly pushing them into superstardom long before they were ready to accept and understand the consequences of that reality. Joe Jackson forced his youngest son into the spotlight at the age of five, who proceeded to spend his entire childhood singing and dancing on stage in front of adults, and mingling with adult entertainers. Throughout his career, Michael made it known to the media and his fans the physical and mental abuse that he suffered at the hands of his father when he was a young boy.

So, the King of Pop spent close to 50 years trying to manufacture a childhood that he never had, and he wanted to spend that childhood with others in the same manner that he imagined spending it all those years back. Michael’s tragedy lies in the fact that his physical form matured much faster than his mind, which was seemingly held to stagnation at some point in his turbulent past. His brain was poised to keep the man a child, with a child’s heart, while his body compelled him to physical feats that undoubtedly made him the world’s most favored entertainer. He became an unprecedented and unbelievable talent, and his new fame brought with it a lavish lifestyle that most people, let alone children, would ever have the opportunity to experience or even dream. Ultimately, it skewed the balance between reality and fantasy, and tragically led to Michael’s bittersweet demise.

Michael, may you rest in peace, and may those who never truly understood your brilliance or even sympathized with your situation at least come to accept the unfortunate circumstances that made you different. As we continually seek to someday heal the world, we need only look as far as the mirror to do it.

I love you guys. I really do. I’m one of those PC converts who, over the years, went from having two Windows-based desktop computers in the house to a MacBook Pro, Mac Mini in the living room, Time Capsule to back it all up, and three iPods for non-stop entertainment on the go. While Microsoft’s XP efforts were appreciated, I simply got tired of weaving through the cobweb-like process of organizing a library of digital media that seemed to grow exponentially by the minute. OS X not only makes it easy, but stimulates creativity at the same time and actually invokes fun. So, after a lifetime of recording my own beloved music mixes to analog tape or burning 15 or so select songs to a compact disc, I cannot put in words how vamped I was to discover smart playlists in iTunes. This was the turning point when I finally chose a side, and it seemed as if my feelings on the matter were so strong that there would be no turning back. Mac for life, right?

Music is my vice, my addiction, and my lifeblood in most circumstances. I need it to survive, and I need it to follow some sort of creative order, or else it’s just background noise. I listen to all kinds of music from Rock to Rap, Jazz to Country, Folk to Metal, and R&B to Electronic. My method for organizing it is fairly straight-forward, and involves keeping everything properly categorized, which results in songs being played in the right context. For me, this means adding comments to individual tracks or albums that will blend genres with the help of smart playlists, which I cater to express a specific mood or theme. It works perfectly and, to this day, I’m awestruck and amazed by the capabilities granted to us by simple, free applications like iTunes. I love the idea of setting a few simple parameters that throw three or four hundred compatible-sounding songs into a playlist and granting your playback device permission to pick their play order for you. This instills in me a childlike sense of angst that leaves me guessing in anticipation what the next song or artist may be. However, ask any professional DJ and they will tell you that there are rules to follow when playing music in this manner, and the one that seems to be universally understood is that you don’t play the same artist two times in a row.

This brings me to my personal yet public plea to Apple, and I hope someone out there in the upper echelons is listening. I understand that randomization does not mean even distribution. It’s fairly straight forward. Flip a coin ten times and there’s still a chance that it will land tales every time, and that’s still random. If one of my playlists features an artist that is weighted significantly higher in content than others, I understand the chances of that artist’s music ending up snuggled closer together within the confines of that playlist. Still, I’m not interested in my device shuffling music at random. All I’m asking my iPod to do is find a way to ensure that artists do not play back-to-back, at least within the first 30 or 40 songs of a playlist that boasts three or four hundred tracks. If that means you create a formula that throws most of the heavily weighted artist’s music to the back of the line in order to give others a chance at playback, so be it. At least I won’t want to rip my iPod out of its docking station and pitch it against the wall every time I hear the same artist or, even worse, the same artist from the same album played back-to-back within a playlist featuring a wider pool than my local Clear Channel radio station.

I may be wrong, but it would appear that iTunes once allowed its users to indicate how likely it should be for its software to repeat the same songs, or artists, or albums. In fact, I know this feature existed because the urge to toss my iPod out the window when this happens suddenly disappeared and made me a very happy person for a short while. There must have been at least a year, maybe two, of listening bliss, rare sightings of back-to-back servings of the same artist, and then Apple updated iTunes to 8.0 … gone. It’s gone. They dropped the feature and feelings of pent up rage once again bubble inside as my new iPod classic feels content, even proud, to distribute three Oasis songs in a row. I fail to understand the logic here, and while I prefer not to go back to hand-picking tracks out of a library of thousands to avoid taking my frustrations out on a simple and virtually lifeless mechanical device, it would appear that my only option may be to abandon smart playlists altogether and, consequentially, abandon the iPod.

Apple. If you’re out there. I’m begging you. Please address this issue, openly and honestly, for the sake of those who truly believe in your products, their value, and their justified added expense. I know I’m not the only one voicing concern over such a seemingly simple request.

You try to avoid it as much as possible. You change the channel to another program or record the one you’re watching just to have the ability to fast forward through the commercials later. You watch cable, or maybe wait for the DVD’s release. As a last resort, you mute the live program and engage your friend, family member, or significant other in conversation while setting your internal clock to two minutes.

Deep down, we all know that inside those dimmed, artificially lit corridors of the marketing department that contains the pusher poised to sell their next ad space to the highest bidder, it’s not really a product they’re pushing, it’s you … and that’s not very cool at all. Still, sometimes an ad comes along that grips your psyche and actually solicits feelings of admiration and respect.

Guilt usually follows, along with fantastical images of some vibrant young intern fulfilling a secret goal to use advertising as a medium for unearthing hidden or forgotten cultural gems. In your head, it’s sort of an advertising coup, where a marketing intern conspires a clever ruse unbeknownst to his or her culturally devoid superiors and successfully surfaces or resurfaces iconic works of musical art to the fresh ears of millions. All the while, convincing their client that it’s the perfect supplement to their silly slogan.

Sure, I know it’s a dream and it doesn’t really happen that way, but it’s my way of justifying an industry that primarily drives profit through means of deception and manipulating people’s emotions. Regardless, some ads are simply worth their weight in BS, and here are five that made me sit back and say, “The song I just heard in that commercial was pure bliss to my eardrums, and makes me want to go outside and offer free hugs in the street.”

5. Porcelain – Advertised in a car commercial, I think? Moby absorbed a lot of heat for this, especially among his most loyal fans, after taking a firm political stand against the clutch of corporate interests. As I recall, he justified the use of ‘Porcelain’ in the ad with arguments that its revenue would supplement his cause, aiding in education and creating awareness about corporate greed and corruption.

4. Big Rock Candy Mountain – Okay, this composition didn’t compel me into the streets in song, but the ad was unforgettable and the tune was a familiar ditty. Burger King had me completely stumped after seeing this one, with Hootie and the Blowfish’s Darius Rucker decked out in full psychedelic cowboy garb, guitar in hand, and strumming an alternate version of a song made more famous on the ‘O Brother, Where Art Thou’ soundtrack than in this commercial. Still, I couldn’t help but think it was a clever nod.

3. Daydreamin’ – Another psychedelic manifestation, this song worked its way into a mobile phone ad and gave me an instant sense of deja vous. I never got to experience the late sixties, but if I had, this is how it would sound, and we have Lupe Fiasco and Jill Scott to thank for covering a track originally recorded by Wallace Connection at Abbey Road Studios in 1968.

2. Ain’t Got No, I Got Life – If you’re not familiar with Nina Simone, it’s high time to jump on iTunes and secure a collection of her music. The ardent impresario of jazz vocalists implants within her listeners a sort of history of the human soul. I was already familiar with her art through the musings of rappers like Mos Def, Talib Kweli and Common, and it took no time for me to recognize her distinguished tone after hearing it in a dairy ad in England. Something tells me that the “High Priestess of Soul” would not be too keen on her music being put to commercial use. She took a hard-lined position in the civil rights movement, and left the United States shortly after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.

1. Lovely Day – Sorry Gap, but I haven’t stepped foot inside your store, immediately making a bee line for any corner where an employee would not find me, in over XXL number of years. Still, I have to give you credit for introducing me to this song, or at least the remix. Up to this point, the only Bill Withers tune that I could correctly identify was ‘Lean On Me,’ and that had more to do with Club Nuveau. I derived great pleasure whenever your happy dancers graced the screen to the smooth stylings of Mr. Withers, and I quickly familiarized myself with his music thereafter. Thanks.

In January, shortly before Barack Obama took the oath of office, legendary Hip-Hop pioneer KRS-ONE phoned into the Alex Jones Show and offered an interview. Jones hosts a syndicated radio program and he is a conspiracy theorist who propagates warnings to his listeners daily. These warnings predict that the world will fall victim to a global restructuring of power, a New World Order. Currently, there exists a sect of followers in the world who blindly submit to such theories, and the primary prerequisite for this class of individuals, it appears, depends mostly on the group of people they seem to hate (or fear) the most. It could be foreign entities, Catholics, Jews, Muslims, socialists, communists, or capitalists.

Regardless of who they believe is piloting the black helicopters that they claim are flying overhead and transporting weapons in preparation for a government take-over, they are content to recess into the cracks and crevices of civil society and stockpile weapons arsenals and ammunition. They exist in all shapes and sizes, but the one specific message that seems to reign consistent across all of their rhetorical musings is revolution by force. They are your paramilitary militias, neo-Nazi skinheads, Underground Weathermen, Black Panthers, Branch Davidian sympathizers, Oklahoma City bombers, anthrax mailers, Minutemen, and even your modern-day tea baggers.

While Alex Jones may not align himself with any of these specific groups, the whispered undertones of his message remain the same. He sits within a circle of conspiratorial shock jocks who willfully pollute the airwaves with piercing propaganda, and he is among a privileged few radio personalities who rose to great heights by lying for a living, utilizing the power of language to manipulate vulnerable minds. Previously, I wouldn’t dream of associating KRS-ONE with this same category of misfits, but his recent alignment with Jones on the subject of New World Order conspiracy theory made me think twice.

It can be unsettling, at least, to learn that a single interview might crumble the perceived understanding a person has of someone they admired for so long. To some degree, I believe that Jones used KRS-ONE as a prop to embellish his own distaste for so-called “bad” Hip-Hop and its “shoot ‘em up” culture. Despite his praise of the emcee on the air, it seemed apparent the guy was not a familiar fan of KRS-ONE’s work, referring to DJ Scott La Rock as simply, La Rock, and fumbling to get KRS-ONE’s own stage name right, calling him KSR on several occasions.

In the interview, I was surprised to learn that KRS-ONE dismisses Barack Obama as a mere puppet. Last year, I was proud after stepping into the voting booth and casting my ballot, not for an African American, but a person who I felt represented me and my generation better than any politician before him. Barack Obama is young, intelligent, educated, humble, aggressive, cultured, and admittedly imperfect. He had a reputation for standing up against strong and powerful forces, and he knew how to organize people into action. He was my candidate for President and, like many others, I did whatever was in my power to ensure his election.

When Obama’s administration took office, they inherited the largest deficit this country had the misfortune of experiencing, which was the unfortunate bi-product of a pro-capitalist, anti-socialist regime that raped tax-payers, nullified the Constitution, and metaphorically crapped on the world’s carpet as they tromped through its house uninvited. Nobody in their right mind would want to be the person responsible for cleaning this mess. Still, rather than offer the man some benefit of the doubt, the legendary Blastmaster gave Americans, specifically blacks, his harsh assessment of Barack Obama as a cunning agent of the devil. At this point, I’m positive that I could hear my neo-conservative, fanatically religious in-laws cheering loudly within the deep recesses of my brain.

I get it, man. I really do. The rich don’t care about the poor, Barack Obama is just another politician, and young people won’t get anywhere by placing hope in anyone but themselves. It’s a message that all people should heed, but there is something inherently wrong with encouraging young people to stop the violence in one ear and telling them to have their guns ready for the revolution in the other. It’s a counterproductive and damning message, which implies the country cannot overthrow the incredible forces of industry through non-violent means. Nobody argues that democracy is perfect, but when it works the way it should, suddenly a nation of millions have clean water to drink, health labels on their food, traffic lights at dangerous intersections, and maybe even clean air to breath. These things only happen when people have faith in their ability to govern, and that is Obama’s message.

In the Jones interview, KRS-ONE compares the presidency to a management position at Burger King, which is ultimately beholden to the franchise owner. In America, he says, the banks and corporate executives own the franchise. This is where I respectfully beg to differ. In the real world, it is the American people who hold that title and the inherent problem lies in the fact that too many of us don’t care, understand our potential for influence, or take advantage of the powers granted to us by the Constitution. The evidence lies in the number of citizens who actually vote, and how often they contact their so-called representatives.

Barack Obama is “our” president because we put him there. African Americans are one of many groups that elected him and, for the first time in their history, a great majority of blacks now share the awesome burden of holding their President’s feet to the fire. KRS-ONE points out in the Jones interview that Americans should not stand idly by and “mindlessly” follow Barack Obama. An excellent point. Still, he doesn’t seem to offer any useful advice for newcomers to the system that lies outside the realm of conspiracy-driven doomsday scenarios that predict a New World Order.

I once read that KRS-ONE dreamed of taking over a small town and building it into a Hip-Hop City. I’m curious to know who would manage that city, and how they would tend the store. How would they work with their neighbors to accommodate the flow of commerce and exchange of ideas? Would they publicly repudiate technology, apparently a tool of the New World Order? This is really what the new world fear is all about. Globalization is, as KRS-ONE would say, “truth.” Human beings populate the Earth at an exponential rate, and cultures collide as a consequence. Yes, it is frightening, but it’s also reality. Ignoring lavish theories about a looming New World Order, the problem we actually face today has everything to do with how we construct a system that maintains our sovereignty while responsibly addressing the influence we have on those outside our borders.