Previously in this series, I touched on the times Michael Jackson dipped into or drew inspiration from horror, ending with the bold claim that three songs attributed to him were actually sung by an imposter. You may now apply your 3D glasses as we proceed.

It all started before I’d met or could legally marry the mother of my children. Picture it: August 20th, 2007, the height of illegal file sharing. YouTuber ladykarmz07 uploads a leaked song titled “Mamacita” to her channel, mistakenly thinking it’s Michael Jackson. On September 6th, mere weeks later, 96.1 KISS FM Pittsburgh broadcasts it over the air. Other stations may have done likewise. Many listeners believed what they heard was the strange and reclusive pop star’s first single since “One More Chance” four years earlier! Their excitement was short-lived, however. Publicist Raymone Bain quickly shot down that rumor, telling the press “Michael Jackson has not released any new material. This appears to be a smooth criminal pulling a fast one!”

Fair enough, but as her client famously asked: Who Is It? The trail led to a then— (and, frankly, still) unknown artist of Caucasian persuasion going by “Jason Malachi”, an obvious stage name inverting “MJ”.

(Carlos Santana erroneously received feature credit for the Latin guitar ☝️)

Now, let’s rewind a bit further and introduce Eddie Cascio, the son of a hotelier/restauranteur Jackson befriended. An aspiring songwriter himself, Cascio was at that time collaborating with future brother-in-law James Porte, composing music in the hopes Jackson might use it. I recall hearing he’d been floating ideas to the Billie Jean baby denier as far back as ~1998, though obviously if he did none passed muster. I just imagine Cascio handing his pal a CD and Jackson politely responding, “Wow, I love it! Good job. We’re putting this on the mantle.” like a parent accepting a macaroni artwork, then crumpling up the CD and tossing it over his shoulder the moment Cascio left.

After Jackson’s untimely 2009 passing, Sony Music signed an unprecedented $250 million deal with the executors of his estate to release ten projects over seven years — and soon faced a dilemma. Do they dig through their vaults for potentially dated-sounding demoes and outtakes from Jackson’s prime, or locate his most recent work? They chose the latter, only to realize Jackson hadn’t actually recorded much in the years leading up to his death.

Meanwhile, Cascio (no relation to the keyboard company) began claiming Jackson had secretly recorded vocals for twelve of his and Porte’s songs in the Fall of 2007, during a three-month period when Jackson is documented as having stayed at the Cascio family’s Franklin Lakes, New Jersey home. Those songs are:

1. “Monster”
2. “Breaking News”
3. “Stay”
4. “Keep Your Head Up”
5. “Everything’s Just Fine” (AKA “All Right” or possibly “Alright”)
6. “Black Widow”
7. “Burn Tonight”
8. “All I Need”
9. “Water”
10. “Let Me Fall in Love”
11. “Ready to Win”
12. “Soldier Boy”

Upon learning that Cascio possessed a whole brand new album, Sony struck a second deal to obtain that as well. How fortunate! This was the hail Mary they needed! Sales were guaranteed to be through the roof!!! Ultimately, numbers 1, 2, and 4 from the list above — plus seven more finds, some newer, some older, were selected and remixed for Michael. But, as another Mike cautions in Phantasm III: Lord of the Dead, nothing is ever as it seems.

Lookin’ like she just got done shooting a Pepsi commercial.
Credit: Phantasm III, Tubi

Controversy erupted when professionals brought in to fine-tune the songs and family members alike heard the voice. Jackson’s mother, siblings, children, nephews, various collaborators, and a former vice president of Sony, all gave a collective “hol’ up”, insisting it was somebody else. They begged Sony/the estate to shelve the tracks. But their pleas fell on deaf ears. And according to them, you’d have to be deaf not to hear the difference.

The official story is that Jackson sounds a bit off in these songs because he laid down rough “demo” or “guide” vocals that required heavy “processing”. Sony claimed to have held a listening session in which some of the critics were convinced otherwise (a claim those critics dispute) and hired two unnamed independent forensic musicologists to perform waveform analyses. Satisfied — with the smell of their own bullshit lies, it would seem — they went ahead and released the album anyway. Fans agreed, almost unanimously. The Cascio tracks were a hoax. At the very least, Jackson devotees (variously referred to as “soldiers of love”, “moonwalkers”, and “appleheads”) are obsessive and know their stuff. From then on, they did what fans do best, complain loudly online, demanding answers. A few diehards took action.

The prevailing theory among them? Cascio caught wind of Jason Malachi (born Jason Edward Cupeta) during the “Mamacita” fiasco and brought him in post-fatal Propofol overdose to impersonate the beloved Gary, Indiana native. Disclaimer: this is what people are saying may have happened, in their opinion. It hasn’t been confirmed. Yet, even Malachi’s producer of ten years identified him as the vocalist. So, how did they reach that conclusion? Where’s the proof? Hey, I get it. You’re right to be skeptical. That’s Human Nature. I wasn’t convinced for a few years myself. So let’s comb through the evidence.

An immediate giveaway is the shaky vibrato Malachi puts on the last word of each line. Jackson sustained notes with far greater control. Also, Malachi lacks the raw power/intensity to scream at the top of his lungs, like Jackson does in “(I Can’t Make It) Another Day” featuring Lenny Kravitz, “Earth Song”, and others. Listen to those, then listen to Malachi originals and tell me it’s not him on the Cascio tracks.

Aural detectives will notice that Malachi skips over a lot of his Ts. For example, “waiting” becomes “wai’in” when he sings it. Linguists call that a glottal stop, something Jackson rarely if ever employed. The evidence keeps piling up. Suspiciously, there’s only one final composite vocal track for each song. Cascio claims Jackson instructed he and Porte to erase the rest of the takes, the opposite of what trained producers and audio engineers would do. To the contrary, they’d want to make countless backups.

Furthermore, these singular tracks lack the finger snapping and foot stomping characteristic of Jackson. No false starts or studio chatter either. Normally, you’d expect to hear random remarks such as “ok, let’s run it back”, but apparently that’s missing too. The real smoking gun? All the “ad-libs” (those various catchphrase-like sound effects Jackson was known for) are cut-and-pasted from previous songs.

It gets worse. The very timeline falls apart under basic scrutiny. The Cascio tracks were filed multiple times with the US copyright office over a span of years, but only credited to Jackson beginning two days after his death. Even then, the copies submitted to the office contain placeholder vocals by James Porte. Copyright filings are supposed to include the most current, complete versions of a work. Lastly, the month before Jackson’s death, Porte sent four of the tracks for polishing/re-mixing/what have you, so Jackson could sing on them, despite already doing so two years earlier… per Cascio.

I’m sure I’m forgetting something, but that’s the most damning stuff. I gleaned a lot of my info from the Faking Michael podcast, which I recommend for a fuller picture. Now, to be fair, a number of scenarios could have played out. Did Malachi think the tracks were for him, or was he in on the hoax? Were Sony/the estate duped, or did they know as well? Also, is Annie okay?

To answer the first question, let’s take a look at the second verse of the album’s lead single, “Breaking News”:

Everybody watching the news of Michael Jackson
They wanna see that I fall ’cause I’m Michael Jackson
You write the words to destroy like it’s a weapon
You turned your back on a love and you can’t get it again

For me, the simple fact that Malachi here assumes Jackson’s identity means he’s complicit. Would Jackson even sing his own name in the third person like that? Many who knew him say no. One notable exception is the relative oldie “Dear, Michael”, written from my wife’s a fan’s point of view.

The real question becomes: why the deception? Well, as Malachi himself allegedly sings in “Monster”, “they’re gunnin’ for the money, so they fake it!” Quick, somebody call the police! Never mind. Jason Malachi is reportedly a police lieutenant, raising a host of ethical concerns. On January 16th, 2011, one month after Michael hit stores, the following was posted to his Facebook page:

Sheesh guys, I guess it’s time to confess. I’ve lied to many people, including someone today, but… it was me. It was me who sang Breaking News, Keep Your Head Up, Monster, and Stay. I had an agreement with the record company, but now the cat is out of the bag. Sorry to all my fans, and fellow Michael Jackson fans.

Malachi’s manager of course denied this and claimed he was hacked.

In 2014, one of those diehards alluded to several hundred words back filed a class-action lawsuit against Sony, the estate, and the producers of the Cascio tracks, alleging consumer fraud and false advertising. Eight long years later, the tracks were finally removed from streaming platforms as part of an undisclosed settlement. Neither Sony nor the estate ever admitted fault or acknowledged the tracks are inauthentic, instead claiming their removal was meant to curb negative discourse and refocus attention on positive aspects of Jackson’s legacy.

Credit: Laserblast, Tubi

It’s sad cos they’re low-key bangers. If the powers that be had been forthright and said they were tributes performed “in the style of Michael Jackson”, there would be no bad taste, and Malachi might have enjoyed a more lucrative career. He’s a skilled impersonator, I’ll give him that, though he’s still a far cry from the genuine article.

2017 — a burned CD containing the twelve Cascio tracks, labelled “Bible”, emerges. Touted as Jackson’s personal copy of an unreleased album, the item was put up for auction by Frank Cascio, brother of Eddie and one-time assistant to Jackson, with a starting bid of $50,000. At a glance, this development seemed to corroborate Eddie’s story. However, the auction house, which initially estimated the item would fetch as much as a million dollars or more, quickly pulled it. The problem? Those mixes didn’t even exist until Jackson was dead in the ground. So how could he have owned them? Either the attempted sale was a stunt meant to back-up Eddie, offset legal costs, or both. Bottom line, another Cascio scam.

More reliable sources indicate two compact discs, each containing just one un-Michaeled Cascio track apiece were found among Jackson’s possessions. In which case, all that really proves is that Cascio knew Jackson and had passed them on for consideration.

It’s crazy how what amounts to arguably the biggest case of forgery the music industry has ever seen receives so little mainstream attention. Had you heard of this before now? Chances are… maybe 🤷 The situation is far bigger than stolen riffs or Milli Vanilli-type lip-synching debacles, and a step or two above J. Lo’s alleged use of ghost singers. To put it into perspective, imagine hawking your own painting as a Van Gogh, that painting winding up in a museum, and the museum selling millions of prints to its hapless patrons. Then, when they finally get caught, they say “GUYS, WHO CARES? APPRECIATE STARRY NIGHT.”

Michael Jackson by Andy Warhol.
Credit: The Guardian

With so much legitimate unreleased gold at their disposal, why even risk putting out possible fakes? Well, as mentioned above, what Sony and the estate really wanted was recent material from the last few years of Jackson’s life. And reportedly, the sale of the Cascio tracks stipulated that at least some of them had to appear on the final album. My theory is, the powers that be were testing the water to see if they could get away with manufacturing additional contemporary material in the future. Them never rolling over on Cascio suggests to me they were in concert together from day one.

My wife and I spun that first posthumous album a lot while we dated. As silly as it sounds, it’s an important part of our relationship. Learning portions were faked was a bitter pill to swallow. Then again, I have no place to talk. What I do have are mixed emotions. Yes, they tricked me. On the other hand, I like the songs. It just goes to show, these kinds of matters are rarely Black or White.

In a weird way, although I feel cheated, I can salute what Cascio pulled off. We both lied to get what we wanted – a girl and money, respectively. At the end of the day, he’s gotta face The Man in the Mirror, and if he can live with himself, more power to him. Except… after Leaving Neverland premiered, Cascio and his siblings jumped on the bandwagon, claiming it awakened repressed memories of molestation within them, and now they’re suing the estate. And I can’t support that. Unless it’s true… which my gut tells me it isn’t.

All this to say, a similar thing happens in Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers.

TO BE CONTINUED

Twice now I’ve covered the rap-horror connection, highlighting how rappers routinely weave my favorite genre’s villains, actors, filmmakers, and basic atmosphere into their lyrics. Along the way, I went over references made by Whodini, LL Cool J, The Juice Crew, The Geto Boys, Will Smith, Rakim, R.A. the Rugged Man, Cage, and more. Today, I’m narrowing the scope to a single artist whose affinity for horror shines through their body of work, perhaps the most famous artist on Earth — the King of Pop, Mr. Badd, Michael Jackson.

I’ll assume you’ve all heard his 1982 smash hit “Thriller” and its gothic epilogue delivered by House of Wax legend Vincent Price a hundred times each October alone. I’ll further assume you’ve all seen its music video containing the Epic zombie dance number. Fewer people know of its precursor, “This Place Hotel” (AKA “Heartbreak Hotel”), concerning a haunted mansion where unsuspecting boyfriends are dumped (romantically, not murdered), or “Threatened”, its spiritual successor of sorts excerpting a Rod Serling speech from an episode of The Twilight Zone about a psychic boy who hates singing. “Torture”, “Blood on the Dance Floor”, and “Is It Scary?” follow similar veins. Then there’s Ghosts and its short film, written by Stephen King and Mick Garris (Critters 2), directed by special effects wizard Stan Winston. “Ben” AKA “Ben’s Song” is an ode to a killer rat that plays over the end of — you guessed it — Ben, the sequel to Willard. Heck, “Smooth Criminal” describes a deadly home invasion. And if nothing else, “Behind the Mask” makes me think of a slasher villain. “Monster”, well… stick around.

Fun fact: Jackson’s spooky streak wasn’t limited to his and his brothers’ releases. I recently found out he co-wrote and features on “Eaten Alive”, a forgotten Diana Ross single using tiger imagery to frame her desire as animalistic and predatory, that actually goes really hard. Its accompanying music video mimics The Island of Lost Souls, with Ross playing the part of Lota the panther woman. Spoiler: the former Supreme bites off a penis. “Somebody’s Watching Me” by Rockwell, for which Jackson provided the chorus, references both The Twilight Zone and Psycho, and has become a Halloween staple in its own right. Even Jackson’s corny Eddie Murphy collaboration “Whatzupwitu” unexpectedly samples a line from the Mexican horror masterpiece Santa Sangre: “The elephant is dying!”

Lord only knows what they keep locked away. The deceptively funky and unfinished (or at least un-fully-leaked) “Men in Black” tells of government agents plotting to kill some poor SOB possessing information on the UFO topic. Beyond this, general themes of fear, danger, and paranoia permeate Jackson’s discography, endearing him to horror-heads far and wide. Below are the songs I just mentioned, plus a bonus slice of WTF, collected in one handy playlist.

As you can see, Jackson displayed a mild to moderate love of horror. Remember, the whole reason he hired John Landis for Thriller is because he’d enjoyed An American Werewolf in London. “Michael had seen that and was blown away by it.” Mick Garris told Entertainment Weekly during a sit-down interview, also noting how the Grammy Award winner was fascinated by makeup effects and the process of physical transformation. That tracks. Besides a werewolf, zombie, and ghost, Jackson famously turned into a stop-motion rabbit, car, gigantic robot, pile of sand… hmm, what else?

On some level, it seems he identified with the various ghoulish roles he inhabited. He was often depicted amongst aliens and other such creatures to boot. Whether joining a tin man and lion, tenderly embracing E.T., or piloting a space crew consisting of chickens, Star Wars-ian droids, an elephant, and a Gizmo ripoff named Fuzzball, he appeared most at home in fantastical worlds alongside fantastical characters.

À la Moonwalker cameo-er Pee-wee Herman, Jackson exuded a childlike mentality and cartoonish persona that felt comically out of place here. As a prodigy forced to perform from around five years old, he was deprived of a typical upbringing and consequently developed a Peter Pan-style complex, never wanting to act his age. That’s the popular take, anyway. Just look at how he (mis)spent his fortune. A private amusement park. An arcade. A menagerie (including his chimpanzee, Bubbles). Gold-encrusted furniture. He was a boy trapped in a man’s body making up for lost time. Isn’t there a Robin Williams movie about that exact thing, coincidentally called “Jack”?

Per several accounts (and if Ghosts is anything to go by), Jackson got a kick out of playfully scaring and/or pranking people (also, wearing disguises), like an overgrown trick or treater celebrating Halloween every day. Maybe his old tabloid nickname, “Jacko”, stood for Jacko Lantern. Hmm, I wonder how he pronounced Samhain 🤔

Credit: Michael Jackson’s Ghosts

The night HEE HEE came home.
Credit: Halloween, movie-screencaps.com

A sneak peek at the new biopic.
Credit: Jack-O, Tubi

The higher his star rose, the harder it was for the Master of the Shamone to have genuine human interactions. He famously rented out supermarkets and bookstores simply so he could shop without being mobbed and experience an approximation of normal everyday life. It was funny, but sad. From 1993 onward, the media portrayed Jackson himself as a boogeyman, reinforcing those feelings of isolation.

I normally bump rock, metal, and new-wave type stuff. I only know all this cos I once dated a woman I would describe as a lifelong Michael Jackson superfan. From the moment she mistook me for gay, two things were clear — 1) I had to convince her I’m vaginally inclined, and 2) I had to accept Michael Jackson, or it wasn’t going to work out. Me being a bit younger and sheltered in some ways (no MTV, plus we were quasi-religious), had little exposure to Jackson. He was already retreating from the spotlight, becoming a pop-culture punchline by the time I developed my own musical taste and was buying CDs. I knew of him as a target of parody, rather than the world-class performer he was.

I’d heard four or five of his songs and that might have been it — kind of insane to me now, considering how big Jackson was for literal decades. My plan to win this woman over included pretending any songs she brought up were old favorites, while secretly educating myself on the rest of Jackson’s catalogue. “Bad? Is that a song? Oh, it’s an album too? I mean… yes, I love both!” Furiously types “Bad” into YouTube. Some time later, the same woman asked if I wanted to attend a screening of The Goonies hosted by Mouth himself, Corey Feldman. I’d never seen it, but couldn’t risk missing out on the chance to spend more time with her. So I did what any man would do. I lied. Again. “Another one of my favorites!” I answered.

I guess you could say I’m a phony. Well, my tactics paid off, cos these days that woman signs her Christmas cards “Mrs. Dvdbin”. Our entire relationship is built on a foundation of lies. And it’s stronger than ever. We don’t have much in this crazy world, but we’ve got each other, and that’s all that counts. Looking back, do I feel guilty for deceiving the poor thing? Hell no! She could have left whenever she pleased. Now, she’s stuck with my ass. Zero regrets.

Before we continue, let’s get something out of the way — the allegations against Jackson that tarnish his legacy. I choose to look past them, and focus on his artistry. My position is one of willful ignorance, as I’d rather not know the truth, for my wife’s sake. If listening to Michael Jackson brings her joy, why rock the boat? Some call that turning a blind eye. I call it being a good husband.

I’m aware of how controversial this is, especially in light of the (incomplete) Epstein files release and revelation that our world leaders are raping/consuming us, both figuratively and literally. Also, a tad hypocritical coming from a guy who exposed Jason Voorhees for assaulting Chris Higgins. I will say, I do find it telling that two of Jackson’s most notable young friends, Macaulay Culkin and Corey Feldman, never accused him of wrongdoing. In fact, Culkin testified in defense of Jackson, while Feldman said basically everybody except Jackson molested him. More substantively, Jackson’s own kids defend him. So, until I’m presented with incontrovertible proof, I remain unconvinced.

I can sympathize to a small degree. Need I remind you, my better half initially thought I was gay. The fact is, no illegal material was seized during any raid of Jackson’s home(s). What authorities did confiscate were extensive collections of heterosexual pornography and commercially available art/photography books, demonstrating a healthy interest in adult females. You’re telling me a connoisseur of the massive globes pictured in Plumpers and Juggs (actual magazines Jackson possessed) was attracted to prepubescent boys? I don’t buy it. Excellent taste, by the way. See, I am straight! You’ve gotta believe me!

Now, would I be mad if my young son or daughter saw one of those fine publications sitting out on a gold-encrusted coffee table? Sure. But I’d never leave them unsupervised at some grown man’s house to begin with, no matter how many gifts were lavished on me! Supposing there are victims, which I doubt, partial blame goes to the parents.

Also, ponder how brazen it is writing multiple songs themed around child abuse and/or exploitation (“Do You Know Where Your Children Are?”, “Little Susie”) when you yourself abuse them. I’d expect an actual predator to maintain a lower profile than that, not openly draw attention to the subject.

At any rate, Jackson was a highly eccentric man who did questionable things, and that made him an easy target. He truly was Off the Wall. Besides molestation allegations, the media dragged him for his numerous, yikes-tastic cosmetic surgeries. Hell, he underwent so many rhinoplasties, he married a nurse. Oh, and his nose collapsed. Yes, he bleached his skin, but that was to combat an untreatable condition. Doing so left him a white man, with black facial features. I imagine that messes you up mentally, especially when your brother Jermaine pens a diss track containing the lyrics: “You changed your shade / Was your color wrong?” But hey, I’m not here to play armchair psychologist and speculate about the man’s personal life.

Credit: Freddy vs. Jason, movie-screencaps.com

Credit: Freddy vs. Jason, movie-screencaps.com

Long story short, I became a genuine fan. If my wife and I broke up tomorrow, I’d still throw on “Leave Me Alone”. That shit slaps. Cutting to the chase, a few summers ago, we noticed that Sony finally, quietly removed the notorious “Cascio tracks” — “Keep Your Head Up”, “Monster”, and “Breaking News” — from streaming versions of Michael, Jackson’s first posthumous album of previously unheard material. Not due to rights issues or the above-mentioned abuse allegations. Because they were done by a fake. An imposter. An impersonator. A phony. Like me.

Simply put, the voice on those tracks is somebody else’s. A real shame, considering “Monster” (not to be confused with an unfinished Invincible-era demo of the same name) fits perfectly alongside the rest of Jackson’s spooky output. Since I love a conspiracy, let’s tug on this thread and see what unravels.

TO BE CONTINUED