Michael Jackson; Millennium Doom

Michael Jackson at the O2, anyone?

When he came on stage at Don Valley Stadium on his History tour, he damn near stole my tears. The big screens flanking the stage told me that to be there that night, the prince of pop had been propelled in a little space ship through a desert landscape, passing the Great Sphynx, the whole of ancient Greek civilisation and the submerged arm of the Statue of Liberty along the way. He'd really made the effort, basically. When his shuttle finally landed on the Sheffield stage, oh how we screamed - we. went. mental. Even though I was right at the back with my friend and his mum and dad, all four of us were camp as Christmas with anticipation.


Michael (ahem) was wearing a full bodyheadfacehands and feet space-suit and didn't move for about 3 or 4 minutes. Milked it a bit, I thought. But once he stripped down to his dancing shoes he literally set the place on fire. Quite a few times actually. The rest of it's a bit of a blur but I left with a red face and a beating body, safe in the knowledge that if a playground brag-off came about, I'd probably win, as I'd shaken a leg with Jacko. He'd even sang Dirty Diana, for fuck's sake, I'd arrived!

That History Tour took in over 50 cities in a 13 month period. From Bombay to Bremen, he never played to less than 20,000 people, delivering a total of 86 performances. I'm sure it can't just be Michael Jackson fans that think it's a bit sad that he's now been reduced to taking up a 7 month residency at the Millennium fucking Dome. He looks like Snow White after years of substance abuse, and he's barely capable of even speaking, let alone bashing out Billy Jean.

I suppose if universal knowledge of your kid-fiddlery isn't enough to make you step down, then nothing is. It's pretty rubbish seeing one of your all time heroes slowly but surely losing the plot, and this O2 debacle only adds to the feeling that Michael Jackson's plot has long since been all mossy and covered in cat wee. Shame. Real shame.