Hits don’t get much bigger than this one.
Beat It
Michael Jackson, 1982
It’s difficult to write about such a famous song. More than 8x platinum, one of the biggest selling singles of all time. Widely regarded as one of the greatest songs of all time. I suppose the best approach here is to make it personal.
This song about urban gang warfare will, for me, always invoke the suburbs.
Specifically, my mother’s house in Farmington, NY. Playing games in the driveway, smashing inflated playground balls at my siblings, spending half the time arguing about perceived rules infractions. If the ball hits the edge of the driveway blacktop, does that count as hitting the driveway or yard? If any portion of the ball touched the grass, is it out?
We spent many afternoons playing in the garage and yard and neighbors’ yards as children were allowed to do back then. I had a little black radio plugged in so we could listen to music while we played, argued, and tussled. During the spring of 1983, Thriller was becoming a phenomenon and Michael Jackson emerged at the King of Pop. It seemed like Billy Jean or Beat It played every few minutes on Rochester’s main pop stations.
Appreciating this album was easy. Like The Beatles before him, Jackson managed to produce music that was both insanely popular and also good. Everyone was into it.
On an episode of Silver Spoons, Alfonso Ribeiro’s character claimed that he had been taught to dance by Michael Jackson. When asked for proof, he hired a celebrity impersonator to come. Even the grown up characters were excited. Kids at my school bought jackets with zillions of zippers. One girl wore a single white glove well into junior high.
Jackson’s catapult into superstardom wasn’t a surprise. In hindsight, it seems almost inevitable. Kids my age didn’t know much about the Jackson 5 (we got the sweet pleasure of discovering that back catalog later). We knew Michael as a solo artist. A confident dancer and emphatic singer.
Finally liberated from his smothering father, his dancing resembles the unleashing of pent up energy, delivered with precise pauses. Having lived his life in the spotlight, MJ was comfortable striking a pose and holding it for emphasis, just to make sure everyone is watching.
Every kid I knew—including me—tried to master Jackson’s moon walk. I could do it better than most and earned some bragging rights and minor celebrity in sixth grade.
The song emerged when Quincy Jones, the legendary bandleader and Jackson’s producer, asked for a rock song. Jackson loved rock and roll. He wanted the song to still feel like a rock song he would want to listen to. And he delivered.
After the opening synthesizer gongs, the rhythm grooves like a typical, danceable Michael Jackson song except for the roaring guitars.
Let’s get this out of the way. Yes, the guitar solo in the middle was played by Eddie Van Halen, despite working for free and being initially uncredited. He wanted to do MJ a favor. They set up mics at Eddie’s house and played him an early version of the song. Eddie picked up his guitar and cranked out that blistering solo.
This Van Halen cameo became a point of contention when watching MTV with my cousins as the older cousins viewed MJ as pop for kids. They instructed the room every time Beat It came on that Eddie Van Halen helped make this song great. No argument. The implication hung in the air—we little ones should take Van Halen more seriously.
Speaking of not being serious, what is it about popular culture in America that we associate street gangs with dancing? From Bernstein’s West Side Story to the rival gangs in Beat It. The video shows Michael on the trail of two gangs who are gearing up for a rumble.
Much like in my beloved Iliad, the violence is shown as brutal and avoidable. We always have a choice.
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right
Just beat it
Neither side wants to lose face. But, Jackson implores them to run, to beat it.
When Michael finally catches up to the gangs, the two leaders have lashed their wrists together in a switchblade fight to the death. MJ dances and the gang leaders join in. Michael Jackson was a big enough star that it’s entirely possible to believe that had he walked into a gang fight and started dancing, that everyone would join in. But, I’m not certain how universal a technique this would be against gang violence. I wouldn’t try it.
So, what made this song great?
It remains a beautiful fusion of a dance-y backbeat with the relentless rumble of the guitars, rolling through the entire song like the treads of a heavy military tank. And, of course, Jackson’s voice. He manages to sound simultaneously cool and pleading.
The timing of the song’s release helped too.
Jackson was coming off a duet with Paul McCartney followed by the number one smash Billie Jean. He was very much in the spotlight. Fans were hungry for more. Critics were asking, “What else have you got?”. And while Billie Jean was still racing up the charts toward number one, Beat It dropped.
And the onslaught didn’t stop. Seven of the nine tracks on the Thriller album were top 10 hits! There have been only a few artists in history with five top ten songs. Jackson had more than that on this one album. Wow.
Just wow.
The neighbors and I would huddle and try to predict which song off the album would be the next hit. So many good choices. I remember trying to explain this to my Dad one Saturday and while he pretended to care, I could see that kids experienced this phenomenon differently than prior generations who had already ridden with their superstars. Of course, over time the greats belong to everyone.