An album as grandiose as the man himself, Michael
Jackson’s 1991 release Dangerous was
his eighth solo effort, fourth since his break from Motown. Taking an obscene
amount of time to record (over a year) and overshadowed by the gratuitous size
of the deal Jackson had signed with Sony records (a paltry $800 million
dollars) , this album was intended to be a large, epic-scale blockbuster
release that would dominate both the American and international markets. Being
Jackson’s third consecutive #1 album and sporting seven singles (all complimented
by expansive, and in some cases, full-length music videos that had heavy
rotation on MTV) that either reached #1 or charted highly at different times,
I’d say it got fairly close.
Marking a dramatic shift in Jackson’s career, Dangerous features absolutely no
involvement with long-time collaborator and producer Quincy Jones, with Jackson
himself and associates Teddy Riley and Bill Bottrell managing the album’s
soundscapes instead. Eager to update his sound, Jackson drew inspiration from
the ever-growing hip hop and urban dance movements within the United States,
most notably ‘new jack swing’, a somewhat forgotten and maligned late-80s/early
90s fusion of hip hop and aspects of contemporary R&B music with artificially
produced beats. Riley, a spearhead of the new jack swing explosion through the
1980s (most notably as a producer for Bobby Brown) was the ideal candidate to
take the helm. Through his inclusion as co-producer, Jackson was also free to
include more personal, intimate subject matter in his music, including messages
promoting global unity and racial equality.
Continuing the trend of his album openers being energetic
numbers suited for the dance floor, “Jam” immediately introduces Jackson’s
audiences to his newly acquired sound, featuring hip hop-style scratching alongside
a bursting horn sample, a somewhat understated funk-driven guitar riff, a cameo
verse by New York rapper and Riley affiliate Heavy D and a few curious sonic
inclusions, from sleigh bells to breaking glass. But what gives the track a real
shot of adrenalin are Jackson’s vocals, delivering the refrain “Jam” in short,
aggressive bursts with as much emphasis as the beat, setting the tone for much
of the album.
Jackson’s superb ability as a craftsman of the pop single
couldn’t be more apparent in “Remember the Time”, and despite how antiquated
the beat is, it easily has the most infectious hook on the entire album – “Do you remember the tiiiiiime / When we
fell in love”, it’s only flaw being that it follows three tracks that share
its sound, but not its quality. It’s also the first instance on Dangerous of Jackson fully returning to
his iconic singing style, operating in a passionate, softer tone which is a
comfortable fit in a track like this. Jackson’s singing continues in a similar
vein in “Heal the World”, an innocently optimistic, sombre ballad that is a
welcome change in pace and production, making use of acoustic guitar, mellow
synthesisers, an evocative string section and a well-placed choir arrangement.
Paying tribute to the re-emergence of mainstream guitar-driven
music around the era of Dangerous, “Black
or White” reasserts Jackson’s ability to keep pace with shifts in musical
trends as opposed to falling into obscurity like some of his contemporaries
from the 1980s. Featuring one of the most easily recognisable guitar riffs in
pop music, “Black or White” is one of those peculiar songs that for all intents
and purposes should have aged at
least a little, but still holds up courtesy of Bill Bottrell’s driving guitar
work and Jackson’s emphatic, inspired vocals. I was pleased to find through
research that the rap verse was not performed
by Macauly Kulkin, but rather Bottrell himself (credited as L.T.B.), and is
easily the only rap cameo on Dangerous
that actually seems to contribute in a meaningful way.
Dangerous is
perhaps at its most ambitious in “Will You Be There”, which completely breaks
convention in the form of a rousing prelude by the Cleveland Orchestra performing
a section of Beethoven’s 9th, eventually making way for a haunting chorale
interlude. It’s not until the 2 minute mark that the track really kicks off with
a rumbling, repetitive rhythm supplied by tribal-esque drumming, choral hums
and vocals by Jackson at his emotive best – this is my personal highlight of
the album, and I promise that has nothing to do with Free Willy. Honest. I can’t imagine why this wasn’t picked as the
album closer, as it easily outshines “Keep the Faith”, “Gone Too Soon” and the
title track for impact.
But ultimately, it’s artificial and dated sounds that
dominate the somewhat bloated Dangerous,
unlike the much more refined and authentic funk/disco-oriented grooves of Off the Wall and Thriller. If there’s one definite inclining trend through Jackson’s
discography it’s the scale of production, increasingly evident through Bad to this album. When Dangerous does scale back its production
though, it’s at its strongest (“Heal the World” and “Will You Be There” in
particular) but sadly there’s too much new jack swing, not enough Jackson –
often in this album, his singing presence is overpowered by the beat (which I
suspect is the fault of bad mixing), which proves to be bizarre and
dissatisfying especially if you approach a Michael Jackson album expecting…
Michael Jackson. But what can’t be denied is the album’s passion, whether it’s
the defiance of “Jam”, the sensuality of “In the Closet” or the conviction of
“Black or White”, Dangerous is
Michael Jackson letting loose, unbridled and enjoying rare moments of sanctuary
from the limelight and a frantically obsessed media, proving to be a
listening experience that is undoubtedly flawed, yet still unique and raw.
B-
-Karl
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