She’s Just A Girl

BY Claire Wiltshire

Michael Jackson sure spends a lot of time in denial. He swears black and blue that turning white was not his choice, young boys who sleep in his bed are just friends and that he’s only had plastic surgery once or twice. But before all the unwholesome stuff, back at the beginning of a burgeoning solo career, MJ responded quite publicly to some accusations of a more rock star variety.

Lifted from the exorbitantly successful Thriller album, “Billie Jean”, in all its intensity, is Jackson at his finest and is widely regarded as the definitive MJ track. Singable, danceable, with plenty of trademark “hoo-hoo”s and a catchy guitar jangle beneath it all, it’s just about the perfect 80s pop song – a desperate, haunting, cautionary tale about being careful whom you love and not breaking the hearts of “young girls”.

But while we were all singing along as little tackers, did anyone stop to question the meaning behind the lyrics? It only recently occurred to me that one of those oddly frank lyrics, “the kid is not my son”, actually addresses the consequences of groupie sex head-on and in an almost embarrassingly personal way.

The song admits to a relationship of sorts, after the naïve singer has been lured by the charms of a scheming woman (“She came and stood right by me/Then the smell of sweet perfume/This happened much too soon/She called me to her room”). Rather than take responsibility for his actions, Billie Jean has gone the way of Cliff Richard’s “Devil Woman” and Hall and Oates’s “Maneater” to suggest he has fallen victim to the evil charms of a woman on the prowl.

In interviews about the song, the singer suggests Billie Jean was a stalker who began harassing him in 1981 during a Jacksons tour. Claiming she was Michael’s wife and the kid was, indeed, his son, “Billie Jean Jackson” has apparently since been institutionalised.

In a strange turn of events, “Billie Jean” touched a raw nerve with some, garnering itself some response songs shortly after its release in 1983. Not one but two unconnected women took on the voice of the slighted fan at the centre of this controversy.

The first release appears to have been a straight-up imitation of the song, entitled “I’m Billie Jean (The Kid Was His Son)” – a dancefloor favourite released only as a 12-inch. The identity of the female singer was never identified.

The second song, Lydia Murdock’s “Superstar”, is a snappy account of the desperate and horny Jackson arriving at her door to take advantage and the events that ensued. The rap runs over the top of a very “Billie Jean” soundtrack with lyrics such as: “I’m Billie Jean and I’m mad as hell/I’m a woman with a story to tell”. Lydia explains how cool she was being about being ditched by the pop star until “the doctor said that there would soon be two”.

Were these responses to one of the greatest songs of all time desperate grabs at a smidgen of the mega MJ spotlight? Or were they attempts to expose the heartbreaking ways of a pop superstar? Whatever the motivation, neither song has made a lasting impact on the music or reputation of Michael Jackson.

And as for Billie Jean – in light of the odd relationship failures and suggestions of a tendency for the younger kind, it seems unlikely any paternity case would hold up in court.