THE 'THRILLER' IS GONE MICHAEL JACKSON'S 'BAD' KARMA PERVADES HIS TIRED OLD 'BLOOD ON THE DANCE FLOOR'
Monday, May 19th 1997, 2:02AM
MICHAEL JACKSON "Blood on the Dance Floor" (Epic) 1 disc
IS MICHAEL JACKSON RUNNING a closeout sale on his career? It sure looks that way from his latest release, "Blood on the Dance Floor," which makes "HIStory" repeat itself in record time.
The album, arriving in stores tomorrow, regurgitates eight songs from Jackson's 1995 white elephant of an LP, "HIStory," via ill-fitting dance remixes. To this, Jackson adds five new songs depressed by the same sounds and themes that have dragged him down for years.
Predatory women, jealous underlings and the evil media continue to obsess him. He's once again playing victim--the world's most powerless billionaire, it seems--mewling about forces conspiring against his heavenly self.
Not that Jackson has no reason to feel squeezed. Beside lingering molestation charges, his canceled 1993 tour, a fleeting drug problem and two "marriages," his last few videos weren't even released in this country and their corresponding singles failed to ignite.
The new songs aren't likely to turn things around. The "Blood on the Dance Floor" single coughs up a series of strangulated mutters and munchkin hiccups in lieu of a vocal, while its chilly, faux-industrial music proves as appealing as a migraine. In the tradition of Jackson songs from "Billie Jean" to "Dirty Diana," the song presents women as bloodsucking maniacs. ("Every hot man out is taking a chance," he warns.)
In "Morphine" drug use becomes addiction ("Oh God, he's taking Demerol/today he wants it twice as bad," he squeaks), while in "Superfly Sister" the enemy is sex.
That first fit of paranoia comes complete with a seven-layer-cake arrangement. The latter proves more spare, with a rock-soul riff that recalls prime Cameo or early Bobby Brown. Too bad it overstays its welcome at more than six minutes.
The other new songs, "Ghosts" and "Is It Scary," boast a few innovative sounds but no real melodies, and in each one Jackson yammers for the nine-millionth time about a world out to get him. At least none of the new songs recycles Jackson's other favorite theme his role as savior.
You can hear that doozie reiterated in the remix of "You Are Not Alone," though, mercifully, this version moves along at a brisker clip. As with most of the remixes, this tends toward the conservative. You won't find great innovation anywhere on the album. Instead, Jackson tends toward common hard-house styles (courtesy of spinners from Frankie Knuckles to David Morales), though we do get a nice twist from Wyclef (of The Fugees) on "2Bad" and a cool "sleaze" mix on "Earth Song" (from Hani). Even the best of these mixes serve more as camouflage for Jackson's songs than as honest collaborations. Which, given the blah quality of the songs, may be all for the best.
