HIStory Part I: A Musical Book

"If you want to know how I feel, you can check out HIStory. It's a musical book." Michael Jackson

Thirty years have passed since an album was not just heard, but felt with every heartbeat. HIStory was more than a release, it was a cry to the world. A sonic mirror reflecting the scars, hopes, fury, and faith of a man who never learned to give up.

Today, with my heart beating to the rhythm of his legacy, I pay tribute to this unique chapter in music HIStory, and in the life of Michael Jackson.

This entry, in two parts, is more than a journey through songs or stages. It is a deep immersion into the soul of HIStory: from melodies filled with memory to the HIStory Tour, where every step was resistance, every note a testimony.

At a time when shadows loomed over his name, he chose not to stay silent. He answered with art. With songs that burn, embrace, and bleed. HIStory was a declaration of existence. The voice of a misunderstood man who turned pain into eternity.

In the early 1990s, Michael Jackson was living one of the most glorious moments of his career. Dangerous had taken the world by storm. With his spectacular world tour, he wasn’t just filling stadiums, he was touching souls.

But while he shone at his brightest, a shadow quietly grew. In 1993, an unfounded accusation changed everything. It marked the beginning of a wound that would forever shape his life and his music.

From that moment on, his public and private life descended into chaos. Dangerous sales dropped, his tour was cancelled, and his image was damaged. Yet in the midst of that pain, he found strength in what had never abandoned him: music.

From that strength came an act of resistance. An album that didn’t aim to please, but to speak the truth. Michael transformed his suffering into art, and his struggle into hope.

In 1994, during one of his darkest periods, Michael found refuge in Lisa Marie Presley. Her love gave him the strength to create again. That year, they married, and she became his shelter from the storm.

Meanwhile, Sony proposed a double album: his greatest hits and new songs. Though the idea wasn’t new, with the accusations still fresh, they hoped his music could once again win hearts, and defend his legacy.

Michael, however, wasn’t interested in repeating formulas. He wanted to break boundaries, to explore darker, more intense sounds. He longed to express the fury inside him, and the fragility he rarely showed. Inspired by Dangerous, but with a more personal focus, he began writing from a place of pain.

Shortly after, an earthquake shook California, prompting him to leave Los Angeles in search of a new recording space. He chose New York, a decision that changed the course of HIStory.

Though Sony offered their studios in Manhattan, Michael chose The Hit Factory, a legendary space where he worked with David Foster. Surrounded by trusted collaborators like Bruce Swedien and Brad Buxer, and energized by fresh talent, he began crafting an album unlike anything he had made before.

That’s how HIStory: Past, Present and Future, Book I was born, a double album with 15 greatest hits and 15 new tracks. But it was much more than that. It was a confession, a letter, a diary written in notes and silences. An artistic testament. Each song carried his imprint, his essence. Nothing was left to chance. Every lyric held a fragment of his story. Every melody, a piece of his soul.

Here begins our journey, part by part, song by song. We won’t just listen. We’ll read them like pages from that musical book Michael wrote with his heart wide open.

And this is only the beginning.

Scream: Fury turned into Sound

The opening of HIStory is not a welcome. It’s an explosion. Scream, alongside Janet Jackson, bursts with contained rage. Industrial beats, an electronic base, and shared screams leave no doubt: Michael is back, and he has a lot to say.

It is a protest song, a burning letter addressed to the media. With his torn voice, he cries out, “Stop pressurin’ me!” as if each note could strip away the weight of years of persecution.

The music video, futuristic and in black and white, shows the Jackson siblings on a space station, a visual metaphor. The world has made them feel like outsiders. But together, as companions in the same wound, they find comfort in the chaos.

Scream does not aim to console. It aims to scream. And it does, powerfully, truthfully, and through art.

They Don’t Care About Us: The Anthem of the Silenced

With tribal percussion and a repetitive, mantra-like structure, They Don’t Care About Us may be the most politically charged outcry of Michael’s entire career.

There’s no soft metaphor here. The lyrics call out racism, police brutality, and the hypocrisy of those in power. Michael speaks for those without a voice, and his cry echoes with every beat of the drum: “All I wanna say is that they don’t really care about us.”

The message was amplified through two music videos. One was filmed in a dark, oppressive prison and filled with real footage of abuse and violence. The other, vibrant and full of life, was shot in the favelas of Brazil with Olodum, where rhythm becomes a form of resistance.

Michael doesn’t just sing. He protests. He puts himself on the line. He becomes a vessel for an uncomfortable truth the world would rather ignore.

Stranger in Moscow: Loneliness in the first Person

After the fire comes the rain. Stranger in Moscow is one of Michael’s most melancholic and honest songs. Inspired by a moment of deep loneliness during the Dangerous tour in Russia, the song is a whisper turned into a confession.

The rhythm is slow, almost ethereal. The minimalist production leaves room for raw emotion. Michael doesn’t sing from anger, but from desolation: “How does it feel… when you're alone and it's cold inside?”

In the music video, solitary figures move in slow motion under the rain. Michael, invisible in the crowd, seems to float. The city ignores him. The world has left him behind.

Stranger in Moscow is not just a song. It is an open wound. The echo of a soul that, among millions, feels utterly alone.

Songs of Frustration: Irony, Protest and Power

Several songs in HIStory are born from frustration, Michael’s way of transforming pain into protest. This Time Around, with its funk-heavy groove and Notorious B.I.G., is a warning cloaked in elegance: “this time around, I won’t let it get me down.”

In D.S., fueled by Slash’s furious guitar, he doesn’t play the victim, he confronts, turning irony into rhythm. Money speaks of personal betrayal, of friendly smiles masking greed, each verse a slap of disillusionment.

With Come Together, darker and more sensual than the original, he reaffirms his independence. Tabloid Junkie lashes out at false headlines in a whirlwind of sound and speed. And in Too Bad, defiance becomes a roar. Michael is no longer defending himself. He’s fighting back, with art.

Earth Song: The Cry of the Earth

With Earth Song, Michael steps away from his personal story to embrace the pain of the entire planet. This epic, apocalyptic ballad is a cry for a wounded Earth, a plea for the life that is vanishing.

From its opening notes, it blends natural sounds with a swelling orchestral crescendo that stirs the soul. “What about sunrise? What about rain?” Questions that repeat like prayers, searching for answers no one wants to give.

The music video is a visual masterpiece: devastated fields, dying animals, war, destruction. But also, a spark of hope: life returning, people finding each other again, trees being reborn.

Earth Song is not just a song. It is an urgent call, an act of universal love. And perhaps, the most powerful and moving work Michael ever created.

You Are Not Alone: Comfort in the Storm

Amid the emotional whirlwind of HIStory, You Are Not Alone emerges like a breath of tenderness. Written by R. Kelly but embraced by Michael with disarming sincerity, this ballad offers comfort from within the wound.

Michael sings as if whispering into the ear of someone on the edge. His delivery is gentle, nostalgic, almost ethereal. He speaks from his own sadness, but also to hold the other: “You are not alone... I am here with you.”

The video reinforces that intimacy. Michael appears alongside Lisa Marie Presley in scenes that evoke connection more than seduction, a visual refuge. Inspired by Maxfield Parrish’s painting Daybreak, the musical film is a direct tribute to this artwork. In every frame, there is vulnerability. In every note, a promise: that love endures, even through pain.

Childhood: The most Fragile Confession

Tenth in the heart of HIStory, Childhood is perhaps the most autobiographical song Michael ever wrote. With a fragile, almost childlike voice, he takes us to the most intimate corner of his soul, a stolen childhood.

Accompanied by a symphonic orchestra that wraps each note in nostalgia and fantasy, Michael isn’t just singing a song. He’s making a confession. He shows us the open wound of his sacrificed youth and asks us, not with anger, but with tenderness, to listen without judgment.

The video, poetic and dreamlike, shows him in a natural landscape, surrounded by children floating like dreams in the sky. A fantasy he always longed for… and never got to live.

HIStory: The Sonic Legacy

The song that gives the album its name is also one of the most ambitious. Michael builds a sonic collage using historical speeches, blending past and present to tell his truth.

It is a tribute to humanity, but also a demand: what have we learned? What have we left behind? “Every day create your history…”

The orchestral introduction gives way to a determined march. Michael sings not just as an artist, but as a witness. As someone who wants to leave a mark. And he does.

Little Susie: The Girl No One Heard

Just before the end comes the darkest song. Little Susie is a tragic, almost funereal tale about a girl forgotten by everyone. She dies in silence... and no one notices.

The musical atmosphere is dense, theatrical. Michael’s voice, fragile, seems to cry with every word. It’s not just a story; it’s a powerful critique of indifference. Of how we let the most vulnerable disappear without looking back.

It wasn’t written as a commercial hit. It was written as an open wound, an uncomfortable mirror, a plea not to ignore someone else’s pain.

Smile: The Final Light

To close the journey, Michael chose Smile, the classic by Charlie Chaplin. He didn’t write it, but it felt like it was written for him. After an album filled with betrayal, loneliness, and struggle, this song is a breath of hope: Smile, though your heart is aching.

Michael sings gently, like a whisper to himself, reminding us that even in chaos, there is beauty in carrying on, in not letting the smile fade. And so HIStory ends. Not with sadness, but with a smile.

HIStory Begins

While HIStory carries the urban fire of Dangerous, it dares to go deeper. Its sound bursts with fury, but also with rare vulnerability. Wounds and embraces live side by side. It’s not just music, it’s a mirror.

After months of creation and healing, HIStory was finished in 1995. But the real test came next: the stage, the spotlight, the judgment.

And yet, beneath the noise, remained something deeply human. A confession in rhythm and silence. A testament of pain, of hope, and above all, of L.O.V.E.

Because no matter how dark the path became, Michael never stopped caring for those who needed light the most, especially the children of the world.

"Dedicated to all my children of the world, the healthy, the sick and the dying... I love you dearly, and this album could not have been made without your love and support. I will always love you. Love, MJ."

With this album, he left a message not just in sound, but in soul. But that’s only half the story. The second half, still waits to be told...

To be continued in Part II.

With all my heart,

Daniela 🌻

A special dedication to my dear friend Ilaria, whose love and support helped put this together, inspired my journey, and reminded me to keep going, always. Thank you for walking this path with me.

And to you, dear reader, thank you for being here. For your time, your heart, your presence. I appreciate your love more than words can say.