Level 1: The Unbothered Listeners
The Unbothered Listeners live in the ultimate state of blissful apathy towards all things MJ. When it comes to the “King of Pop”, some of them may be able to identify Michael Jackson under this pseudonym. Some of them will think of Harry Styles. They have busy lives, eclectic yet vague musical tastes, and couldn’t care less about forming an opinion about some singer who is dead anyway.
They are complex and mystical and, like Michael’s diction in the bridge to the rap part in Black or White, sometimes hard to understand. These dispassionate creatures won’t change the radio station or skip a song on their playlist if Beat It or Billie Jean comes up in their passively consumed rotation. To be fair, a subset of this audience is indeed tenaciously passionate, but only about music far away in the galaxy of genres, like dubstep, lowercase, or sea shanties. Whatever their motivation (or lack thereof), they never actively seek out a particular song by the King.
The Unbothered Listener’s browser history is free of Michael Jackson traces, unless their dentist happens to have the same name and they once had to find his number to cancel their professional cleaning. They are very busy. Or they prefer their teeth a few shades darker to match the pirate look of their shanties. In addition to having a digital MJ footprint of zero, they got rid of their entire physical music library around 2014 in the wake of Spotify’s mainstream reign. So, any chance of accidentally owning a Michael Jackson song as part of the “Now That’s What I Call Music, Best of 80s” CD compilation is gone.
These dainty mortals would rather not be included in this categorization of “fans”, but they are not willing to expend any energy protesting the idea. Even if they are at the base level of enthusiasm, they are part of the fandom simply by not skipping a Michael Jackson song. They maintain that level of indifference to all aspects of his legacy.
Level 2: The Occasional Cheerleaders
The Occasional Cheerleaders once found a burned “Best of Michael Jackson” CD in the glove compartment of a used Toyota they bought 20 years ago. They gave it a listen on the way to Blockbuster and concluded that the hype had some merit.
They sympathetically tweeted “RIP” to their 381 followers on June 25, 2009, and respectfully turned up the volume every time the car radio played a song in memory of the King that day. When prompted about their favorite MJ song, they give a bulletproof answer, like Billie Jean or Smooth Criminal, although they secretly have no preference. They think the lyrics of Man In The Mirror are “deep”, but can’t quote anything beyond the chorus.
Level 2 fans won’t let news and gossip fill them with anxious feelings of ambivalence about an artist best known for pretending to walk in one direction while actually moving in the other. They won’t dig into rumors. They won’t dig into Jackson’s catalog either. They hate digging. That’s why they won’t build a sandbox in the backyard for their 3-year-old, but will put up a swing.
They appreciate “good” pop music, but are slightly intimidated by the music of Prince (the artist, not Jackson’s son). Since they just invested in a vinyl player because their daughter needed it for her Taylor Swift records, they thought they might as well get a set of “classic” albums to look sophisticated. That’s how Thriller ended up in their collection, neatly displayed in their tastefully decorated living room.
If you asked these fascinating beings to list the props needed for an MJ Halloween costume, they’d say, “Easy! Three things: a single sequined glove, a black and white fedora hat, and… a third thing.” That’s why they never dress up as Michael for Halloween. Although they do find it impressive when a Level 8 fan does.
The Occasional Cheerleaders lead harmonious lives. If the conversation at a Sunday barbecue turns to pets, they will delight their audience with mind-boggling trivia like “Michael Jackson once had a chimp named Bubbles.” A fact they stumbled upon after reading a People magazine article titled “What happened to Michael Jackson’s chimp?”, which they quickly researched, only to learn that Bubbles even has his own Wikipedia page. In a procrastination spiral due to an upcoming finance meeting, they read the entire Wikipedia entry with awe.
One anecdote in particular caught their attention. During rumors that Bubbles had died, Jackson’s publicist commented, “When Bubbles heard about his demise he went bananas.” That really stuck with everyone at the barbecue. Despite success stories like these, the Occasional Cheerleaders are unable to name all of Michael’s siblings, which they regret because family is one of their greatest values, along with life, laughter and love.
They wouldn’t call themselves fans, but they’re always happy to be part of a community and notorious people-pleasers, so they’ll accept the invitation.
Level 3: The Emerging Enthusiasts
The Emerging Enthusiasts once played the “This is Michael Jackson” playlist on Spotify for their aunt’s 40th birthday as an act of rebellion against the lousy Level 1 fans who call themselves their “parents”. Their family’s horrified reaction (being exposed to 30 MJ tracks in a row will convert even the most Unbothered Listener to a very much Bothered Protester) turned this otherwise peaceful event into a core memory for the Emerging Enthusiasts.
Since that day, they have found a new appreciation and curiosity for this The Weeknd soundalike that everyone in the physiotherapist’s waiting room is raving about.
These inquisitive detectives explore the world reel by reel. They have encountered the Severus Snape lookalike many times in their TikTok feeds, mostly in the form of memes of old interview statements that can now be ironically applied to work or school situations. But for the Emerging Enthusiasts, it’s time to get acquainted with the art behind this Internet wizard.
Equipped with an attention span comparable to the mass media covering women’s rights in Iran, it may take them a few starts, but they will eventually get through listening to what they consider to be Michael Jackson’s only six solo albums. Their opinions of his songs are more refined, and with a constant ambition to stand out from the Level 2 fans, these delicate spirits will pick a track from the Dangerous or HIStory albums as their favorite, like They Don’t Care About Us or Remember The Time.
Eventually, they will seek out the “This is The Jackson 5” playlist on Spotify, but will be distracted by the fleeting thought of the inevitable apocalypse, caused by either AI-driven robots, the collapse of the intricate system of ocean currents due to climate change, the nuclear fantasies of 70-plus-year-old war-mongering “politicians”, or all of the above. This has taken a dark turn, but it’s a sinister world in which the Emerging Enthusiasts are growing up. They’ll watch the Thriller video as a cheerful reminder that life goes on (for now).
Are Level 3 fans only young people? There may be exceptions, but I cannot imagine a realistic scenario in which a middle-aged person missed their last chance to become an Emerging Enthusiast (Michael’s death and the related resurgence of his music in the wake of that tragic news), waited for the Leaving Neverland documentary to come out, and only then decided to give his music a chance.
So, yeah, this level is reserved for the generations Z and Alpha, the ones who will have to work 60 hours a week to maintain a lifestyle that can afford the paraphernalia for a hobby, if they’re lucky. So exploring what’s from their point of view “vintage” music might just be an escape.
There is something magical about this level. No one stays there for long. It’s a fork in the road, the blue pill or the red pill, the gateway between Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough and Leave Me Alone. Once they have examined MJ’s music catalog between 1969 and 2001, they may let all those impressions of rhythmic mastery, captivating soundscapes, and soulful vocals over the span of 32 years marinate in their cognitive storage for a while. But eventually they will have to make a fateful decision: Go back to Level 2 of mild appreciation with no moral implications or move up (or down? or on?) to Level 4.
Level 4: The Timid Supporters
When asked about their favorite artist, the Timid Supporters will answer: “You know who I’ve been binge-listening to lately? Finneas, you know, Billie Eilish’s brother (that’s the least mainstream the Timid Supporters can come up with). I once learned to play one of his songs on the guitar because he was kind enough to post a tutorial on YouTube. Imagine if more musicians did this to get us to practice our instruments and keep us excited about the magic of creating music and art, not just consuming it?
Anyway, I regularly go back to artists who have shaped music past and present with great storytelling, Billy Joel, Carole King. I mean, I listen to a lot of, you would say, older music, basic stuff. I wouldn’t say my taste is very experimental. I love everything from Motown, Stevie Wonder. I actually went to a Stevie Wonder concert in 2011. It was an absolute treat. He brought out his daughter that night and had the audience sing his version of Happy Birthday to her. I never really had any affection for that song. It made me cringe every time it was played at someone’s birthday. But singing it together with 10,000 people for his daughter was a really special moment. I think it’s because of him that I’m also a big fan of Alicia Keys. Or is it the other way around? Who else? Michael Jackson, I guess…”
Timid Supporters are masters of tact. Every conversation they enter initiates a cognitive dance between camouflaging their imposter syndrome, a vague notion of shame, and making some actual sense. In any human interaction they are confronted with, they will carefully study changes in body language, facial expressions, and eye contact of their vis-à-vis and adjust their messages accordingly. Any noticeable flinch in their counterpart’s face will cause them to quickly reassess their line of argument and change course if necessary.
They are champions at disguising their true thoughts, opinions, and — consequently — emotions. Their main goal as a functioning part of civilization is to not cause a stir, which they accomplish by doing and saying anything to appease their contemporaries. Level 2 fans may be people-pleasers. But Level 4 fans are proper pushovers.
Timid Supporters are travelers, they never stand still. They are constantly commuting between Level 4 and Level 5, the Advocates for Legacy. When, in 2002, Michael Jackson visited Berlin, I became eerily giddy at the thought of sharing, for a glimpse in time, the same grounds within a four-kilometer radius with the King. I even considered – against my natural instincts — leaving the house. Perhaps there was a way to see him in person? Undeniable Level 5 reasoning, and almost acting. In the end, I was glad I didn’t because the next day, a baby dangling from the balcony of the Adlon Hotel was the top story. And I went straight back to my home base, a solid Level 4, where I belonged.
Despite the fact that at some point they took the red pill to cross the threshold from Level 3 to 4, from curiosity to commitment, the Timid Supporters insist on the annoying principles of societal norms. Decades of exposure to rumors true or untrue of Michael pushing the boundaries not only of the music industry, but also of said norms, have shattered their confidence. Michael once said: “I embarrass easily.” Well, so do the Timid Supporters. When they picture their relationship to him and his music, they see a sensational star on one side and skeptical smoke signals on the other, seesawing in the sunset. Immediately, an impulse of guilt kicks in because of their poor use of unnecessary alliterations that might annoy the reader. The last thing they’d need in today’s troubled times.
To compensate for this looming sense of remorse for choosing the pleasure over the doubts, they vow to always sing Heal the World only ironically.
Level 5: The Advocates for Legacy
The Advocates for Legacy saw at least eight complete Michael Jackson concerts, some of them live, if they were lucky (and old enough). They recalled the experience to impress a wide-eyed Timid Supporter they met at a gadget magazine launch event in 2007.
Though they’re not as geared up as Level 8 fans, they occasionally dazzle the rest of the earthly simpletons with a decent moonwalk, voice imitation, or Jackson kick. These moves don’t just come naturally. They must have practiced them at some point. That’s dedication. But it’s so much more than that.
These Level 5 fans are the ones who learned and perfected beatboxing because he did. They are the students who followed their dreams and became regulars at the dance studio because they were inspired by Michael’s performances. The intro to Earth Song awakened their desire to practice these and many other keys on the piano.
His powerful and versatile singing style, the visual elegance of his music videos, his charity work – you name it, and millions of people would set out to catch a glimpse of his artistic expressions by attempting or succeeding in emulating at least one of them.
The Advocates for Legacy know for a fact that Michael Jackson didn’t record six solo albums, he recorded ten. They can tell a young Michael’s solo track from a Jackson 5 tune, or the Jackson 5 sound from The Jacksons. They don’t take sides in the alleged Jackson-Prince feud. Instead, they are angry that these two magicians have never elevated our mundane lives with a collaboration.
They put the Emerging Enthusiasts in their proper place; the audacity to compare the King to The Weeknd… But it’s not just their wisdom that never ceases to amaze. It’s their passion.
The Advocates for Legacy are the backbone of the Michael Jackson fandom, the public speakers. While a Timid Supporter would only confess their MJ allegiance in a safe space, such as when they feel the presence of a fellow Timid Supporter, Level 5 fans use their voices.
With a healthy perspective on his personal life, they shine a spotlight on Michael Jackson’s artistic and cultural legacy and promise that it will never be forgotten. They are the outspoken, loyal musketeers who openly and proudly proclaim his influence on their – all of our – lives and art.
Teachers, parents, referees – they’re all supposed to have no favorites for some reason. The shift from sarcasm to pathos in this Advocates for Legacy story may indicate my preference.
Level 6: The Infatuated Collectors
The Infatuated Collectors would never be able to display an album in a neat and tidy manner. Driven by the desire to one day fully understand the complexity and richness of Michael’s music and persona, they have turned their living room (and subsequently every room in their bungalow) into a sanctuary for the nearly complete collection of all the better and lesser known songs, bonus tracks, novelty records and foreign versions. Michael would have been proud of their hoarding powers. Marie Kondo isn’t exactly his spirit animal either.
Twenty years ago, they even had to sell their Toyota to afford a rare 9-piece set of all 12” single LPs from the Bad album. By surreptitiously leaving a mix of their personal best-of MJ compilation in the car for the new owner to find, they hoped to have planted a seed, to have done their part to perpetuate the lore.
The Infatuated Collectors don’t let the calls from their fellow gatherers — the debt collectors — steal their thunder. Their banker may have told them that a “Captain EO” model from the Disneyland attraction of the same name is “not an investment”. But this ridiculous display of incompetence only fuels their devotion, so they take out the $5,000 loan to place a magnificent 17’’ hand-painted resin mini-statue next to their Michael Jackson-narrated “E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial” storybook album.
Of course, they know that you should budget for regular payments into a fund to build wealth over time. No need to be condescending. That’s why they’ve set up monthly donations to make the next Kingvention possible, a convention of like-minded connoisseurs, because that’s the kind of environment where they truly thrive.
What they lack in financial savvy, The Infatuated Collectors make up for in unparalleled specialization in the art and the artist that is Michael Jackson. They may have forgotten the names of their own children, but they can name all 25 (or more?) of Michael’s nieces and nephews and their significant others in a heartbeat.
Don’t try to impress them with tidbits like “The song Thriller was almost called Starlight”. That’s redundant information for Level 6 fans. Long before any other Level, except 10, they had already heard a surprisingly lively interview about the making of Thriller. There Michael told Ebony Magazine: “It was Tchaikovsky that influenced me the most. […] If you take an album like Nutcracker Suite, every song is a killer, every one. […] People used to do albums where you’d get one good song and the rest is B-sides or album songs. And I would always say to myself, why can’t every one be like a hit song? Why can’t every song be so great that people would want to buy it if you released it as a single?” That’s why they proudly show you their certificate from Yale’s online “Introduction to Classical Music” class.
What haunts The Infatuated Collector most is the fact that there are probably dozens, if not hundreds, of unreleased tracks in Jackson’s vaults. If anyone should get access and crack the codes, it’s them. That’s why they can’t wait for Kingvention, where they would find their associates and – for reasons that can’t be disclosed at this time – go into hiding together for a few years.
Level 7: The Community Campaigners
Have you ever wondered what happened to the young women who were invited to join Michael Jackson on stage as he sang You Are Not Alone?
One moment they were unhinged, screaming and nearly suffocated by the force of tens of thousands of similarly ecstatic people who were not lucky enough to be in the front row. The next moment, they were dragged out of the pit by security and carried onto the stage, only to find themselves in the middle of the performance, crying in the arms of their hero.
How did this cathartic encounter change the trajectory of their lives, you ask? Let me tell you.
Fully aware that they were the only kind of fan who knew what MJ smelled like, they took on the responsibility that came with it and became: The Community Campaigners.
While Advocates for Legacy speak to the public, the Community Campaigners speak to and for the lobby of Level 3+ fans themselves. They are the architects behind an elaborate network of thousands of Facebook pages, Instagram accounts, TikTok feeds, magazines, dedicated MJ websites, tribute events, merchandise and memorabilia shops, not to mention the countless local versions of all these forums for every country in the world (except North Korea).
Of course, there are official media channels from the Michael Jackson estate as well as from institutions like the Grammys or MTV. But if you visit the official website michaeljackson.com, you’ll learn nothing compared to fan sites like truemichaeljackson.com, mjjcommunity.com, or geniusmichaeljackson.com.
The Community Campaigners are meticulous content creators and curators. They will find everything that has ever been written about the King of Pop, and are constantly on the hunt for long lost images and videos of or about him. Once obtained, these treasures are remixed for every media format imaginable, quenching the thirst of fans with an endless stream of memories.
The Community Campaigners are pure souls. They know and believe every word Michael has ever said and will forever defend his innocence and grace.
Their platforms are digital campfires that warm the souls of all Level 4 to 10 fans. The comments section under each post or article is a beacon of hope in an otherwise hostile social media landscape. A tsunami of heart emojis, an outpouring of love, kind words of worship – there is much to learn from MJ’s Level 7 fan community.
But don’t be fooled by their benign presence. If provoked, the Community Campaigners and their loyal followers will do a 180 on Michael’s “I’m a lover, not a fighter” philosophy. Should a naysayer dare to disrupt the discussion in these arenas of joy, an army of fedora-wearing crusaders will unleash their wrath. Rarely has a nitpicker emerged from this battle the same person.
The Community Campaigners use special weapons against any kind of criticism: direct quotes from Michael Jackson himself (they have them memorized for a reason), gentle insults, and if none of that helps, an argument so strong it withstands any further rational dispute: “BECAUSE HE IS THE KING OF POP!”, followed by a heart emoji in a separate comment, because they value netiquette.
Level 8: The Showman Clones
When I was in my mid-twenties, I loved to throw lavish parties — as lavish as you can throw in a 500-square-foot apartment — especially for Halloween. My studio would be covered in spiderwebs, skulls, grave candles, and crime scene tape. The snacks would look disgusting, and I’d project videos from my carefully curated YouTube playlist of “scary” songs / music videos (Thriller, Ghosts, The Monster Mash, Ghostbuster theme song, Everybody, etc.) onto one wall.
For Halloween 2009, I dressed up as Michael Jackson (as did many more people than usual that year), wearing a black shirt with gold braiding and rope detailing on the front, a red faux leather jacket, and a black fedora. I’m not telling this anecdote to brag about getting the color palette right. I’m publicly recounting this mess of an outfit, which is just a sad mix of three different MJ eras worn by a blonde lady, to fuel the frustration that Level 8 fans — The Showman Clones — must be feeling as they read this account of an uncultured philistine like me.
The Showman Clones have perfected the look, sound, and movement of the King. Like year-round Neverland Santas, they can be found on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, in Times Square, or simply in a subway station. While the Community Campaigners use content to keep Jackson’s mythology alive, the Showman Clones use performance and style.
For them, spending thousands of dollars on replica costumes is an investment. A growing industry of tribute shows gives these acts a chance to express their talent, celebrate MJ’s art, and unite Level 2 and higher fandom. Some draw crowds of 15,000 or more. As Oscar Wilde never let’s us forget: “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness”. In their case, it is paying off.
But what is the origin story of the Showman Clones? It must have been that fateful day in the arcade in 1990. (A quick side note for the Emerging Enthusiasts: Before video games came into our homes, teenagers had to go to a special place to play games like Pac-Man or Space Invaders. It was a world of wonder and neon lights. Level 2 fans can tell you more about that.)
During the summer break, the Showman Clones were hanging out with their buddies as usual when they noticed a shiny new addition to the arcade’s video games: Moonwalker. Set to a 16-bit instrumental of Smooth Criminal and featuring visuals from the same music video, the goal of the game is for the main hero (Michael Jackson) to use his special dance moves as attacks against the villains to rescue kidnapped children.
Although, somehow, they never got to play a sequel to this game as the 90s progressed, it marked the first time that the Showman Clones could step into Michael’s shoes, at least virtually. An exhilarating feeling that hasn’t left them since.
Level 9: The Conspiracy Theorists
#michaeljacksonalive #michaeljacksonisalive #whobelievesmichaeljacksonisalive — to this day thousands of posts are circulating on social media speculating about what “really” happened on the day Michael Jackson died. The Conspiracy Theorists believe he is still with us, hiding in disguise or living in self-imposed exile. They are few and far between. In fact, as with any conspiracy theory, the originators are probably just a handful of people who don’t deserve your attention.
It would be easy to ridicule them. But it’s possible that they’ve been so traumatized by the death of their idol that they need these theories to find comfort in a disturbing reality, to have a place of hope. So let’s not get caught up in the webs of false information, have some compassion for them, and move on.
Level 10: The Ultimate Devotees
Categorizing Michael Jackson fans by gradually adding new layers of intensity, expression, and loyalty — In the eyes of the Ultimate Devotees, this is the worst idea since their petition to replace the National Anthem with Earth Song was denied. His Sublime Highness of Pop does not deserve the adoration of spineless weaklings representing Level 9 or below. Behold the supreme and only acceptable version of a Michael Jackson fan.
How dare Level 9 Conspiracy Theorists even consider the question of whether Michael is dead or alive. He has always been and always will be a deity that transcends all physical manifestations of earthly existence.
Nice try, Level 8 Showman Clones, but even if your path were as light-assisted as Jackson’s in the Billie Jean video, your pilgrimage wouldn’t come close to the pinnacle of his artistic charism.
E for effort, Level 7 Community Campaigners. The Ultimate Devotees document the entire scripture of Saintly Michael as part of their daily liturgy.
No need to brag. Level 6 Infatuated Collectors may have every record of the Holy Pop Monarch’s hymns, but Level 10 believers have two of each: one to play and one to pray to.
They don’t just respond like the idle congregation formed by Level 5 Advocates for Legacy. They lead the litany in his Church of Moonwalking Faith.
To be a wimp like the Level 4 Timid Supporters should be considered blasphemous.
Still wet from the baptismal ceremony, Level 3 Emerging Enthusiasts rightfully stand in the back of the choir to worship the Divine Prophet of Music Excellence.
The pathetic excuse that Level 2 Occasional Cheerleaders call their music collection leads to a doctrinal argument for excommunication.
And finally: If Level 1 Unbothered Listeners continue to think that Black Or White is just a strategy in chess, their sins shall be punished by being trapped in an endless loop of Paul McCartney whining about being outbid in the race for the ATV catalog by none other than — let’s say it loud and clear — THE ALMIGHTY GOD OF POP.
The Ultimate Devotee’s angry sermon comes to an end. Exhausted by their uncompromising spirituality, they murmur a final prayer, devoid of any sacrilegious irony, to heal the world, to make it a better place, for you and for me and the entire human race. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Hee-hee!