It's evident right from the get-go that the mission statement for
Dangerous was likely to avert as many stereotypes associated with Michael Jackson's earlier work as possible. As a result of long-time collaborator Quincy Jones departing, Jackson now finally stood solely at the helm of production on his own albums. Why wouldn't he be at that point? Now into his thirties, it was hard to believe that the sound of Jackson's records would be at the whim of other producers forever. It was now time for Jackson to come into his own, and show the world what he was fully capable of crafting by his lonesome, without the need for keeping to any kind of formula in order to appease his fans.
Subsequently,
Dangerous' sound is...well, complicated. It feels as if in order to display his versatility, Michael's method was to pack into the record a slew of different styles from all across the musical spectrum, without any real theme or idea connecting them together. As opposed to, say, the rebellious nature of
Bad, or the paranoia-fuelled
Thriller,
Dangerous can't even begin to think of what it wants to do with itself throughout its monstrous hour and twenty-minute runtime, at times feeling like it’s multiple albums in one. One moment Jackson will be celebrating equality among ethnicities over a set of cheerful backing "YEAH!"'s and guitars, the next he'll be crying us a river about a cold-hearted lover over a set of melancholic synths and cellos. This isn't to say Jackson hasn't dabbled in genre-roulette before on his records, but whereas on the Quincy recordings the differing styles were not as easily contrasted against each other because they all were composed to sound somewhat similar to one-another, here, the juxtaposition sticks out like a sore thumb and makes
Dangerous out to be somewhat contrived.
That's not to fault Jackson's sense of ambition, however. If one were to look at the sheer variety of styles interpretively, it almost appears as if Jackson is attempting to craft some sort of avant-garde piece. It's simply the implementation of all these styles that both makes and breaks the album at various points. For instance, the much-touted inclusion of the "new jack swing" genre makes up more or less the first half-hour of runtime, to the point that you could easily mistake
Dangerous for being a straight-up hip-hop record, especially considering the inclusion of sampling, heavier beats and new lyrical subject matters that Jackson tackles, including poverty, racism, and the mass media. That is, until, the seventh track
"Heal the World", which undertakes a more traditional R&B "WE GON' SAVE THE EARTH" ballad akin to the "Human Nature"s and "Man in the Mirror"s of the Quincy era (only with far more insufferable and embarrassingly preachy songwriting), at which point the "new jack swing" is never brought up again. It's inconsistencies such as these that the listener can't help but pick up on and distract themselves from the music at hand.
Which is a shame since there is certainly some material on here that sees Jackson excel as both a producer and singer.
"Who Is It" is a clear example of this; at the time one of the bleakest Michael Jackson singles to be ever put out, this gritty R&B track sees MJ plead to his cheating lover to explain to him who "he" is and subsequently goes through the stages of grief, often switching in and out of defiant shouts and fragile croons, that really makes you appreciate his efforts as an actor; you genuinely feel like he's reeling on his last legs. But what truly brings the track together is its symphonic production, complimenting the songwriting to a tee with backing hymns, tribal instrumentation throughout the bridge and a vicious beat. All this comes to together as one of the most engrossing, heartfelt ballads Jackson has ever made. Actually, there are quite a few of those ballads, such the gospel-coated anthem "Will You Be There" and the egocentric yet audience-empowering glam-metal track "Give Into Me", which come and go within the album's latter half, and ultimately leave
Dangerous sounding on a high note as a result of their memorability.
The same can't exactly be said for the aforementioned "new jack swing" tracks, primarily because of the simple fact that the concept of Michael Jackson attempting to rap goes about as well as you just pictured in your head. The man lacks flow, his vocals awkwardly go in and out of being sung and spoken, his verses have a tendency to be buried beneath the fat beats, and the collaborating, no-name, supposedly more experienced rappers that help with some of the bridges are downright cringe-inducing (“
Makin’ funky tracks, with my man, Michael Jackson, smooth criminal, that’s the man, Mike’s so relaxed, mingle mingle jingle, in the jungle...”). However, these tracks are often savoured by the slick production, which supply some of the grooviest beats ever heard in a Jackson album, and accentuate the dancebility of each of them, making them at least fun for the most part, and proving that he can at least manufacture an effective hip-hop beat.
Dangerous just manages pulls itself together by the end of the first half to its ridiculous length, and barely pass as a reasonable inclusion into Michael Jackson’s now-legendary discography by the end of it all. Oozing with ambition from start-to-finish, Jackson’s attempt at making an entirely original sound removed from his previous records is ultimately a success. However, in the midst of doing away with all the present tropes associated with his sound, Jackson unfortunately ends up creating entirely new tropes that cling to this and all the records following on his discog; namely the sheer inconsistency of how he structures his use of genres, and the bloated length. At the end of the day, despite not reaching its full potential,
Dangerous can be fully enjoyed for what it’s worth, and in all likelihood, the issues that plague it can be chalked up to the result of Michael being at the helm of production for the first time in his life without the assistance of Quincy's magic. And as a first-try, he could have presented himself far,
far worse.
