Michael Jackson

UK first press 1982. Record close to NM. Sleeve EX.
The biggest selling album of all time, in case you hadn’t heard. Every single track is a hit, and if you claim you don’t know the words to at least three of them you’re lying. Quincy Jones at the desk, MJ at his peak, Vincent Price doing spooky voiceovers for no reason whatsoever. It’s basically pop perfection pressed into wax, the kind of record that makes you realise half your Spotify playlists are just cheap knock-offs of what’s happening here. Owning a copy is less about music snobbery and more about filling a glaring hole in your collection before someone notices. FFO: Prince looking nervously over his shoulder, Lionel Richie phoning his lawyer, every wedding DJ who thinks they’re edgy, and your auntie trying to moonwalk in heels after too much prosecco.