Dancing Machine

Years after their decade-flipping turn as a chart-dominating kid-phenom sensation, yet still well before Michael’s ultrastar ascension as a solo artist rewrote the pop-history narrative, the Jackson 5 were threatening to become something unexpected: an afterthought. They’d been soldiering their way through an early-mid-’70s flux period that would eventually see them sever their ties with a freedom-constricting Motown, whose songwriting braintrust seemed like it was finally running dry for the group that was once their most reliably hitmaking act. But opportunity would strike one last time: after the proto-disco/bubblegum funk of G.I.T.: Get It Together single “Dancing Machine” brought them back to the top ten, the potential of a new dance-focused direction for the group drove an effort to capitalize on that hit, and hard. While the updated mix of that robot-dance-enshrining classic makes for a mighty title cut, it’s far from the only attraction. Hell, it might not even its most impressive; a strong case could be made for the epic opener “I Am Love,” with its abrupt post-psychedelic shift from smooth Jermaine-sung soul balladry to heavy uptempo Michael-sung cosmic unity funk that sounds like a gnarlier precursor to labelmate Diana Ross’s similarly structured following-year smash “Love Hangover.” The get-down impulse dominates — only a couple pleasant-enough ballads near the end serve as reminders that this group used to give us some “I’ll Be There”s to go along with the “I Want You Back”s — but the groove rarely gets a chance to threaten you with monotony, at least in part because the change of scenery brings out some vibrant new qualities to the Jacksons’ voices. At its best, you get a minor masterpiece in the Latin-percussive NYC-dancefloor-ready “What You Don’t Know,” which shows Michael growing into the voice that would dominate the ’80s (and the expressions of disbelief and anxiety that would make that dominance feel so uncanny). And even when the minor cuts — “She’s A Rhythm Child,” “The Life of the Party,” “The Mirrors of My Mind” — have the vibe of dance-craze filler, the sheer committment turns what might otherwise look like water-treading into the stuff of Busby Berkeley.