Secebis Nota Abadi

Kemegahan diri tidak akan menjadikan kamu seorang yang berwibawa. Dari itu tinggilah bersama kerendahan diri. Cubalah gunakan penyapu lidi yang kecil, dan dengan sedaya upaya jauhkan dirimu dari pembersih hampagas yang sering mendodoikan deringan syahdu dalam kunci B minor. Jika dihimpit keresahan, ingatlah detik-detik bahagia walaupun kini ia tinggal secebis nota abadi untuk renungan seisi jagat raya. Untuk tempo sehari dua, luahkanlah keinginan yang tersemat di hati, ia dapat menyinarkan keheningan kota realiti. Usahlah diam dan memendam, usahlah berdendam dalam diam. Tatkala puas dalam kerjaya, usahlah malas untuk berjaya. Kesimpulan yang mudah selalunya adalah jawapan yang sukar. Mungkin kamu ingin tidur, tapi jangan sesekali bermundur. Pilihlah kehidupan, tapi janganlah terlalu memilih dalam kehidupan. Tunjukkanlah jari jemari kamu dalam bentuk 'V' apabila berasa gembira. Bingkaikan senyuman apabila semua pengekormu menjadi semu di pinggiran sepi. Ketuklah sebanyak tiga kali di atas meja untuk menandakan yang kamu tidak gentar. Keesokan hari, makanlah sedikit untuk hari lusa, kerana hari lusa tidak mungkin tiba. Ketika bermandian di lautan, berpautlah di ranting yang kukuh dan belajarlah sedikit sebanyak tentang teori pasang surut; ia mungkin dapat menjamin sesuatu yang kamu sendiri tidak dapat menjaminkan di masa hadapan. Berwaspadalah wahai teman, kamu hodoh jika kamu rasa bodoh. Ketrampilan kamu adalah penting, tetapi lebih wajib adalah wawasanmu. Duit dan harta tidak mungkin menjamin kesenangan, tetapi lumrah alam, sesiapapun tidak senang tanpanya. Terokailah kemungkinan yang tertitip di imaginasimu, dan jelajahlah dunia dengan hanya menekan lima-belas klik di sudut kamarmu, di hadapan komputer riba, di dalam alam maya dimana luasnya tiada tandingan. Air yang berwarna hijau selalunya manghasilkan wajah kesungutan selepas dirasa. Mengapa? “Kenapa” bukanlah soalan yang patut ditanya, tetapi yang perlu dijawab adalah pantun kehidupan yang sering kali (paling jelas buat hamba) bersifatkan susun-suai gambar yang berimejkan kekosongan. Tiba masanya, bawalah kekasihmu ke ruangan yang terindah, dimana pohon asmara berwarna neon lapis lazuli dan nyiur kehijauan tidak segan membuahkan gagasan-gagasan abstrak. Apabila fajar menyinsing, kejarlah impianmu seperti mergastua kelaparan, dan ketika ditemani malam, rumuskanlah mimpi-mimpi yang tidak dapat kamu gapai di siang hari. Ingatlah, kamu adalah manusia yang bisa membisakan sisa-sisa manusia biasa sepertimu. Dengan itu, tertawa dan menangislah dalam satu struktur harmonik. Hidupmu tidak sempurna jika sering mengejar kesempurnaan. Ayuh, lafazkanlah luahan cinta, tetapi dengan niat yang ikhlas dan yakin. Jika tidak, kamu adalah hipokrit sejati. Celah-celah kosong patut diisikan dengan emosi dan visi. Berujarlah kamu dengan sintaksis yang tepat, tetapi bermadahlah dulu dengan kiasan-kiasan yang serat dengan susunan-susunan puitis. Minda kamu adalah senjata paling utama. Parasmu adalah azimat demi penegak kebenaran. Kekatamu adalah (A) peracun yang manis atau (B) penawar yang sinis. Tetapi bagi hamba, kamu bagaikan (C) seni halus yang tidak bernama. Tidak salah untuk merasa betul, tetapi jika kamu betul-betul bersalah, perbetulkanlah kesalahanmu sebelum kamu dipersalahkan. Nyanyilah bersama camar-camar di dahanan, kerana itu sahaja yang dapat kamu lakukan di saat mega-mega nan kelabu berarak masyhur menuju utara. Apabila hujan hadir kelak diiringi halilintar dan melodi sendu, tanyalah kepada dirimu dengan hati benar-benar terbuka: bolehkah bayang-bayangmu menjadi payung melindungimu dari kebasahan?

I need new approaches. New dimensions. New ways. New verse. New paths. New love. Review. Redo. Renew.

Nerverse Systherms

Today you try to deny, you say, then lay and sigh, but why you mind, because she says you may, you can, even a man does grief some days, but heaves who's fair to bear the stance, not one mere chance, too dear, too bare, just one rare dance, one stare, one's will to care or kill, one reel of stills to thrill this heart, too cryptic an art, to strip them apart, to keep in the mood, two deep interludes, and feels why not, then kneels to God, phrases them up, sums up those craze, and hums some tunes, loon’s humoresque, too soon to guess, too much for such, I must digress, to some degree to disagree, with what you know, to these or so, this time it'll show, sweet rhymes will glow, to prime and grow what’s left in you, too late, who knew, your date is due, tomorrow thus, don’t know don’t ask, to where you must, too wise to pass, who dears for trust, who queries lust, and peers with eyes as cold as ice, unfolds at last, the grass, blue sky, clear glass is dry, unsure who lies?

The simplest things, I might muse and consider, are things that are the hardest to understand or interpret.

Legend

A Man Should Be Faithful, And Walk When Not Able,
And Fight Till The End, But I’m Only Human

His voice resonates with profound intensity, his verses dazzle with verve and vim. His music pounds with urging chords, reverbs of funks that linger on. His songs speak of human race, of love and healings, of truth and feelings. His bangs, his beats, his thrills, his gripes – the audio spectacles, an art unveiled. His moves are impression, a dancing machine, forming expressions of perfect elegance. His grooves engraved in the minds of lovers, his world that rocks beyond the rim. His road, his journey, what lies in the mystery, what truth can’t unfurl, what sense can’t belie. His colourful personalities, his marked eccentricities, his passion, reactions and his sincere devotions. His life remembered, the recollections of a virtuoso – a life scintillates like none before.

That was MJ. And that will always be.
A man we’ll remember, the one we’ve lost.

Beat It, Beat It,
No One Wants To Be Defeated

If my memory serves me right, the year was 1987. I was 6 and an older brother of mine was prancing to the combined tunes of Bad, Beat It and Billie Jean (no less than with a guitar in arms). It was a ‘one-of-its-kind’ sideshow and in all honesty, as I sit and think back for a second now, a hideous montage that needs no further detail. Back then I was too young to appreciate popular music, and what’s more I wasn’t able to “get” the songs because of my limited ability to decrypt the content. Yet amidst those medleys, I knew one thing for sure - that they are unique soundings. They moved me physically and emotionally. So I can say that those were some of the earliest moments that inspired me to go into drumming. Those beats – those heavy drums and basses, those thumps acting like pulses – they are the driving energy to an otherwise conventional melodies. Shortly afterwards, I begged my mum for a toy drum.

I've Been A Victim Of A Selfish Kinda Love,
It's Time That I Realize

The year was 1993, and this is the time forever etched in the memory bank. The scenic images are mere shades, but remnants of the stills quietly reside at the vertex of my mind. This was the year when I learnt about the true, exposed life of Michael Jackson and his brothers through a 2-parts TV miniseries entitled The Jacksons – An American Dream. It chronicles the dysfunctional Jackson family and their rise to fame, as well as Michael’s eventual stardom and the weighty relationship he had with his father. At this point, I may not be able to narrate the storyline at length (it was ages ago!) but there are multiple scenes stuck in this memory that I can vaguely put forth, one of which involves the father grueling his talented sons into perfecting choreography, and one where The Jackson 5 performed in various competitions and shows, and notably the one of Michael and his pet rat named 'Ben'. Although inaccuracies are prevalent and undeniable (cause there is no way of filming an autobiography without resorting to dramatic approaches that can propel the plot) this is probably one of the better miniseries to grace the television, even more so during the time in viewing. And through this episodic watch, one will understand the triumph and turmoil of a family who sets big dreams in sight, and why MJ, who had troubles putting the past behind due to this father’s aggressive mode of discipline, spent most of his adulthood trying to rekindle his childhood. He was The Man whose fame came too early, whose youth went too fast. He was The Man, whose motivations we could never figure out with a single reading, or just by looking at his fanatical and altered states of profile. He’s The Man whose musical phrasings tend to punch with dedicated optimism, yet whose life doesn’t reflect the happiness he longs to own.

Keep On With The Force, Don’t Stop,
Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough

My siblings grew up listening to his songs and they have their own fave lists. I was brought along the ride naturally. While I am fond of his groovy and uplifting numbers, there is no denying of my discrete attraction for his slower tracks. I was intensely grabbed by the heart with his ballads, namely I Just Can’t Stop Loving You, Liberian Girl, She’s Out Of My Life and the mid-tempos The Girl Is Mine and Human Nature. Later years, songs like the anthemic Keep The Faith and Heal The World (both from Dangerous, whose album cover was full of mystical symbolism, masterfully illustrated by Mark Ryden) made their way to the list. No one would disprove his vocal artistry, as he switched range without hassle from romantic falsetto to energetic countertenor – and this is really a great delectation to the ears. For a specific part of my youth, MJ stood as the sole artist that sets trend and styles, as the man who influenced and shaped the musical culture of my generations and that before me (he was so influential, even the London Symphony Orchestra recorded a symphonic rendition of Smooth Criminal!). An icon not to be disregarded in the years and generations to come, he is the ‘legend’ people will speak of time and again, favourably for his contributions and not for his trials and imperfections that seemed to make headlines after his glory years faded into obscurity. And these good memories, these melodies, these brilliances, these craze – they won’t stop till one gets enough. Those fanatics will second me without doubt.

So Annie Are You OK?
Are You OK, Annie?

There is something peculiar about the way Michael Jackson composed his songs, as we learn that he sang through a sound recorder instead of pounding on the piano or writing on papers, and this he often did atop some tree at his Neverland ranch. His lyrics are at times cryptical, if not wax lyricals to the core. MJ would insert influences from various musical cues, distinctly the hypnotic African chant that never fails to make me sing along: “Mamase Mamasa Mamacoosa” from Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’, while the enigmatic Will You Be There is a piece inspired by a traditional Indian song. And then comes the fascination of female personalities that makes us kind of wonder, but that have been explained one way or another by The King himself: Annie, Diana, Billie, Liberian Girl, The Doggone Girl, Susie… but even then, we still wonder. Where did he truly get his inspirations from?

If They Say Why… Why?
Tell ‘em That Is Human Nature

The humanitarian themes emphasized repeatedly though his songs showed us that here we have an individual who is at the forefront, unafraid of tackling a myriad of issues at hand: of social ills, of protests and repressions, of public struggles, of false accusations and of various global concerns, e.g. world hunger, diseases and homelessness. As a gesture of a true philanthropist, he would chime and pledged to make the world a safer and better place, and impelled others across the globe to join in his quest. The topics he wanted us to ponder on were sewn within his rhythmic swings - they are not just snazzy pop pieces enameling the air in stereophonic channels, but they are, at heart, the declarations of hope.

The Way You Make Me Feel,
You Really Turn Me On

MJ was one of the early whizzes of modern MTV, renewing the medium as an artistic outlet with his labyrinthine plotlines, choreography and special effects that transport us to places only as imagined by the man-child of extraordinary talents. Through these detailed sketches, which in essence are non-standard long-forms rather than mainstream promotional tools, we see him as the man who fictionally lives in the world of supernatural and wild imaginations. These dark, metaphysical inclinations are clearly evidenced in the MTV for Thriller and later on in Ghosts; both of which were some of his time-extensive videos, the latter being a short film co-written by author Stephen King. These are uniquely produced videos that entertained audience, visually and aurally. Who can actually overpass the fantastical (yet to be replicated) morphing faces sequence in Black Or White, or the intricate urbanized Egyptian dance routines in Remember The Time, or even the reverse deforestation in Earth Song? To put it plainly, MJ’s music videos are too sensational to be ignored – everyone who is anyone who has anything or nothing to do will pause just to watch it. There’s no two ways about this. Quite simply for me, my all time favourite (the one that sparks me even after repeated viewings) would be the anti-gravity, 45 degrees lean in the 10 minutes Smooth Criminal MTV (from the original film Moonwalker) – which was then successfully, and dare I say it, magically translated for his concert tours using specially patented “leaning” footwear. MJ is recognized as the versatile performer who had worked with a number of well-known directors in the movie industry, namely John Landis (Thriller, Liberian Girl, Black or White), Martin Scorsese (Bad), Francis Ford Coppola (Captain EO), Spike Lee (They Don’t Care About Us), Mark Romanek (Scream – the most expensive till this day), John Singleton (Remember The Time) and David Fincher (Who Is It?). I recalled videotaping some of these MTVs with zeal back then when cablevision started to peak my interest. These exceptional moving images are just some of the rich objet d'art he left behind as part of an unforgettable legacy. For in his oneness, he had created the pop landscape and musical language that is today, while both his audiography and videography underscores his astounding achievements too comprehensive for a compendium.

I Wanna Rock With You… All Night,
Dance You Into Day... Sunlight

If there is one thing anyone wants to remember, it got to be his signature moves – the moonwalks, the robos, the circular slides, the side slides, the shuffles, the spins, the complex foot works and the hand gesticulations, and not forgetting the crouch grabbing maneuver. These are not acts that you can pick up instantly and dance along, for anyone who tries to will fail exceedingly (though we know the imitators are many). MJ’s metrical dances entertain us; they are something to be embraced and admired at without we ever feeling disinterested. The allurement is too great to be turned away.

Through coincidences, I did learn some moves from friends (twins to be exact) who are, through my observation, devoted MJ fans. With a group of schoolmates, we pulled off a faithful impersonation of MJ’s Dangerous, and then rehearsed (just to amuse ourselves) the elaborate moves to Smooth Criminal (of course sans the gravity-defying sequence). We were geeks of sorts, and as The King put it bluntly in one of his songs, we were young and innocent then.

My sister was the fortunate one as she managed to catch him performed ‘live’ in front of thousands during the Dangerous World Tour in 1993. She even owns the ridiculously large, obsolete, optical laser disc of Dangerous - The Short Films. I wonder if she intends to auction it, cause hardcore fans will pay any amount for such valuable mementos.

Born To Amuse, To Inspire, To Delight,
Here One Day, Gone One Night

To mark this bitter days, I am planning to re-watch three shows attributing The King as the greatest artist of all time. By hook or crook, I will try to get hold of The Jacksons –An American Dream, and later on I will catch Moonwalker (a close friend owns this classics, but sadly in VHS) and finally I'll top it up with Sidney Lumet's The Wiz – a musical film in which he acted alongside Diana Ross as the Scarecrow in an all African-American cast adaptation of L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Though a critical commercial failure during its time, I am here to be delighted by MJ’s bona fide acting skills once again. Also, (because my videotaped version grown moldy and no one in this modern-age world uses VCR anymore), I might search for the HIStory Tour video. This is for mum, who simply enjoys watching (I found no reasons why not) MJ’s idyllic performance of I Just Can’t Stop Loving You.

Every Soldier Dies In His Glory
Every Legend Tells Of Conquest And Liberty

Michael Jackson, in his impeccably tailored militia-inspired outfit and glossy shades, marched in tandem to his rapid cadences, fighting for what he believes and never once surrendering. His caliginous pasts, the accusations, the financial burden, the obsessive, compulsive and strange personas, his so-called Peter-Pan syndromes, the marriage, his sexuality, his paranoia, and the isolations – these are intrinsic stories whose definition and contexts are not for us to speculate on. Defined either as a superstar icon or a tabloid figure, it was pretty clear that MJ’s private life had been scrutinized by the media, while the public perceptiveness escalated to a whole new altitude transmuting into an uncordial circus which he could not escape from. But above all, he’ll be remembered arguably as the biggest pop star in the world. As an entertainer with the power to spell the hearts and souls of millions, he is definitely irreplaceable. No one else could step in to fill his dancing shoes or sequin gloves, for none is truly as artistic, accomplished and adept as him. Now in his passing, he has emerged forever more as the eminent star deserving of the title – The Legendary King of Pop.

His music streams forever…

Picture: Circa 1984 “Thriller” Period / Dick Zimmermann