In the weeks running up to the release of 'Invincible', all discussion centred on the question of whether or not Michael Jackson could perform an astonishing return to the limelight and release an album of such quality that all the young pop pretenders would hang their heads in shame. Now that all the waiting is over and this long-awaited opus is finally upon us what's become crystal clear is that this level of anticipation was fueled by a different Jacko - both musically and mythically.
The Jackson that created the mighty 'Off The Wall' and era-defining 'Thriller' albums was a different man in almost every respect yet it seems to be this man that we still think of when the prospect of 'music' emerges from amidst the usual by-products of the myth. Attempts to return to that golden era are sure to disappoint whilst brave, radical futuristic steps forward had better be bloody good. It's the ultimate catch-22 for the seasoned pop legend and old Jacko's stuck right in it.
The first hint of what to expect from 'Invincible' came with the release of 'You Rock My World', a perfectly balanced homage to the 80s groove of classic Jackson underpinned with the irresistible production sheen of Rodney Jerkins. The first hint of what to expect from the critics and fans was the almost unanimously negative reaction to this track, probably the best on the album. Put simply, the King of Pop was fighting a losing battle from the outset.
That 'Invincible' is simply a pretty lacklustre exercise in R&B formula pretty much seals its critical fate. Apart from a couple of above average Jerkins productions - 'Unbreakable', 'Invincible' - and some rather fine vocal performances from Jackson on slower tracks like 'Break Of Dawn', 'Invincible' is an album almost unbearably mired in schmaltz. Jackson's own effort at production, writing and arrangement - 'The Lost Children' - is a perfect example. It's a truly awful pastiche of a Broadway tune complete with a choir of kids imploring us to "pray for all the children."
Jackson could be forgiven many crimes on this album - its excessive length, the Carlos Santana riff, even a couple of the aforementioned ballads - but it's impossible to escape the fact that 'Invincible' simply has no direction. Rather like those legendary Hollywood flops that went to the wall driven by colossal budgets and the attendant expectation, it appears to have been too long in the making with too many cooks contributing to the brew. It's no Waterworld, granted, but neither is it Spartacus.
