The album pictured at top is the Jackson 5's "Third Album" -- but it was the very first album I ever owned. I'm pretty sure it was a Christmas present in 1970, when I was 11 years old and was ready for ownership of some of the static-ridden tunes I'd been listening to with Cousin Brucie on New York's Top 40 WABC. Actually, it wasn't the first rock or soul album in my house; my Dad was just 30 years old when the Beatles released "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" in 1967, and we had a couple of Beatles' LPs. maybe even the Rolling Stones. And I even remember Iron Butterfly's "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" and the first Led Zeppelin disc in my friends' basement, when their older siblings with the peace-sign posters in their basements were out of the house.
But that was the whole point of owning a Jackson Five record -- they were the first group that didn't belong to the '60s, to young hippie-wannabe parents or to patchouli-scented or Nehru-jacketed brothers and sisters. Indeed, their first big hit -- "I Want You Back," with the killer piano riff that signaled a fresh new sound -- was released six weeks after the muck of Woodstock, and it was one of the first No. 1 songs of the 1970s, a new decade, our decade. The Jackson 5 and their strings of hits like "The Love You Save" was the first pop music that truly belonged to us -- the rear-guard Baby Boomers -- and their lead singer Michael Jackson, just 12 years old, smiled broadly bounced with a kind of energy that spoke of our new blood that would build something fresh atop the ruins of a tumultuous decade.
And then the 1980s came, the fulfillment of that promise -- for him, for us. When Michael released "Thriller," it seemed to speak yet again to my sub-generation, 20-somethings still grasping for a common identity in the bitter aftertaste of the Pepsi generation, sandwiched in between the grumpy elders and cleancut teens who were both trying to herd us into the Age of Reagan. Michael Jackson truly was, for that brief moment, our "man in the mirror" for a confusing new decade: Someone whose weird clothes spoke of rebellion yet made no coherent statement, not a radical but a careerist and a perfectionist who was moonwalking his way to the bank, totally apolitical and racially ambiguous, an artist who understood "new media" (remember when that meant MTV?) and thus was going to reign forever as the King of Pop.