It seems convenient to admit it now that he’s gone, but I was a fan of Michael Jackson. The years between his Jheri curls and my bald spot were sufficient for me to grow up and he to grow really weird. Still, through the grunge years, the adult contemporary, the drum ‘n bass, MJ remained—consistently—MJ. Increasingly irrelevant, until now.

As hackneyed as it sounds, something else did die with Michael Jackson—the extended childhood of my generation. Owned Thriller? Check. Bad? Check. Moonwalker bootleg? Check. Dangerous came at a dangerous time for the grunge-leaning. From then on, it was all just too bizzarre.

For me—as I’m sure it does for others in their 30s—it feels like the end of an era. I prefer to remember Michael Jackson as he was in “Bad”. Now go find Moonwalker on the torrents.