Feminists may object to the term, but I don’t think Michael Jackson gives a damn. He’s too enthralled with the girl he just met. The setting isn’t clear; it’s nighttime in what seems to be a big city with lots of lights; but the crooner has already fallen in love.
In lust is probably more like it. It’s her Pretty face he’s mostly focused on as strong sexual overtones fill the air. Even more pungent is the funk of the disco groove, which sounds suspiciously like Carl Carlton’s Bad Mama Jama, banging away in the background.
my rating : 4 of 5
1982
