Jackson had 13 No. 1 hits | Here are the BEST

Few artists could match Michael Jackson's chart dominance. On his own, he had 13 singles that hit No. 1 on the Billboard pop charts; tossing in the Jackson 5 adds another four chart-toppers to his tally, with one more courtesy of USA For Africa.

While a complete picture of Jackson's talent can only be gleaned from a thorough survey of his entire output, it's worth looking at the most notable musical moments from his No. 1 hits, times when nobody was being listened to more than the "King of Pop."

"I Want You Back" by the Jackson 5 (1969)
The Jackson 5's first Motown single was also the group's first chart-topper, a rather auspicious national debut. From that first piano glissando through to the fadeout, it ranks with the best that Hitsville U.S.A. had to offer, with a joyous, bubbling bassline, popping drums and a rhythm guitar so dead-on funky that there was no need to change notes no matter where it was in the chord progression. If there'd been any doubt that an 11-year-old could credibly front a major pop group, it was wiped clear away by the time little Michael finished the first chorus.

“Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough” (1979)
This wasn't Jackson's first solo No. 1 single — that honor went to 1972's ode to man-rat devotion “Ben” — but it was his first to top the charts that he wrote himself. In fact, it was the first single that Jackson wrote himself, period, the importance of which can't really be overstated, since his musical legacy rests just as much, if not more, on his songwriting as on his singing and performance. He tested the waters with a pure disco tune, complete with swirling strings and a thumping rhythm that was as much an injunction to hit the floor and dance as the lyrics themselves. It was essentially a declaration of independence by a 20-year-old who'd just figured out how to stand on his own.

“Billie Jean” (1983)
There are plenty of historical reasons to celebrate “Billie Jean” that treat the song itself as little more than incidental baggage. The video broke down MTV's color barrier, and it was during his performance of this song during the “Motown 25: Yesterday, Today, Forever” TV special that he first unveiled the moonwalk. But such facts ignore the song itself, which is one of the toughest of Jackson's career by virtue of the fact that he didn't feel the need to push too hard. Atop a low-key but pulsing beat, the singer oozes confidence to such a degree that he captures the song's ominousness without a hint of a snarl. It's also worth noting that the lyric finds Jacko defending himself against malicious gossip. He'd return to that topic a few years later with the more tongue-in-cheek “Leave Me Alone,” but nothing could top the original.

“Beat It” (1983)
Released a mere six weeks after “Billie Jean,” “Beat It” featured one Mr. Eddie Van Halen on guitar, signaling a rare accord between R&B and heavy metal at a time when they were quite firmly segregated from one another. On paper, Jackson's thin, nasal voice is about as wholly unsuited to lyrics about youth violence as Morrissey's would have been, even if he's preaching calculated retreat (also known as “running away”). The metallic guitar and heavy drums have other things to say about it, though, and the song picks up enough momentum by the time of Van Halen's fiery solo for Jackson to pull off the role of no-nonsense peacemaker. The singer would try to make lightning strike again with rockers like “Black Or White” (with Guns N' Roses guitarist Slash) and the squealing “Dirty Diana,” but none of them could crawl out of the shadow of “Beat It.”

"We Are The World" by USA For Africa (1985)
Co-written with Lionel Richie, the utterly inescapable “We Are The World” might not have been released under Jackson's name, but it was the song that maybe most explicitly laid out Jackson's vision for himself and his place in the world. It brought together one of the most staggering collection of great pop voices ever assembled — that's Ray Charles, Cyndi Lauper, Willie Nelson, Steve Perry, Diana Ross and Bruce Springsteen all on one track — and galvanized them into a great pop gospel choir dispensing the feel-good argument that global human crises could be resolved through little more than empathy. It wasn't an unproblematic sentiment by any stretch, but to borrow the title of one of his later songs, Jackson wanted nothing more than to heal the world through his music, and for one brief, shining moment, it sounded as though he was going to do exactly that.

“I Just Can't Stop Loving You” (1987)
It's not that Jackson shies away from love in his lyrics, but when he broaches the subject at all, he tends more towards upbeat jams (think “P.Y.T.,” “Rock With You,” “The Way You Make Me Feel,” etc.) than straight-up love songs. “I Just Can't Stop Loving You” is the grand exception and one of his most convincing romantic ballads. It helps that he gets a handy vocal assist from Siedah Garrett, whose presence forces a distinct focus on his declarations so that he can't get away with vague generalities to nobody in particular. But the deal is sealed by a bed of lush keyboards and one of the creamiest melodies Jackson ever came up with.

“You Are Not Alone” (1995)
Jackson's final No. 1 pop hit came at a time when he'd seemingly been eclipsed by his sister Janet, who was still riding her own incredible hot streak, and he had to turn to an outside songwriter to get there. It would have been a step backwards to his pre-“Off The Wall” days, but R. Kelly's song was the perfect vehicle for Jackson in the mid-1990s. Musically, it was cut from the same inspirational slow-jam mold as “I Believe I Can Fly,” but there's an introspective sadness that's all the more bittersweet for the implication that he was singing the songs to himself and trying desperately to believe.

‘King of Pop’ leaves the legacy of a boy prince

Most kings are destined to be remembered as kings, not as the person they had been before ascending to power. Even though Michael Jackson earned recognition as the “King of Pop,” the legacy he leaves is that of a boy prince.

Michael Jackson was never comfortable in the adult world. Early on he recognized he would be the happiest in the land of Ferris wheels, cotton candy, docile animals and 24/7 playtime, and he clung to that life. He looked at film of the Jackson 5, circa 1968, noticed the front man was a kid, and wondered whatever happened to that boy’s childhood.

Michael Jackson passed away today. It’s always sad when parents outlast their children. It’s even sadder when the inner child and the adult can’t decide who will go first.

In 1966, when Michael Jackson was almost 8, the Jackson 5 was born. Soon after, these talented young men from Gary, Ind., found themselves playing in seedy nightclubs and dodgy strip joints. That isn’t so bad, in most cases. The musical artist who demands only a dignified path to stardom usually spends a lonely life in the garage or basement. Humble beginnings, or even humiliating ones, come with the territory.

But when you’re a kid, and your father is pushing you ever harder to work and achieve and succeed like Joseph Jackson pushed, the road becomes mean and the spirit turns cold. Michael’s boyhood was Dickensian, even though he grew up in a tight African-American family from an unforgiving industrial region of the Midwest that went on to become rich.

The world knew that Michael Jackson — the 8-year-old with the mini-Afro, the 1,000-watt smile and the footwork of a vaudevillian — as being perennially upbeat. But inside, he had to be wishing that he could skip the next gig and hang out with some kids his age. He had to be lamenting the fact that while the family was going places, he wanted to remain behind a little longer in childhood.

As he grew older, he became a greatly admired creative force. The “Off the Wall” album in 1979 sent his star into a new galaxy. “Thriller,” in 1982, became the biggest-selling album of all time. He had movie projects, he bought the Beatles’ catalog, he did “Captain EO” for Disney theme parks, he co-wrote “We Are the World.” He seemed to have his gloved hand in everything.

Fame made him tabloid fodder
But amid all the success, there was the residual dissatisfaction and longing. The more famous he became, the more he seemed to withdraw from the attention, usually in highly peculiar ways. Much of what was written about him was fiction. Yet because he had a chimpanzee, because he owned Neverland Ranch with all its childlike wonder, because he seemed to alter his physical appearance with each public appearance, he was constant fodder for the media, legitimate and otherwise.

He also made headlines with two marriages, first to Lisa Marie Presley and then to Deborah Rowe, with whom he had two children. The scrutiny intensified.

Like any showman, Jackson drew the spotlight to himself. He was quiet, soft-spoken and fragile, but he knew the business as well as anyone. The freak, the eccentric, the “Wacko Jacko,” might all have been unflattering descriptions, but a lot of the buzz was the result of his own orchestration. He knew that when Michael Jackson set one foot onto any stage, the klieg lights would illuminate it. And when he could work it to his advantage, he did just that.

The struggle between the naïve child and the savvy grown man turned Michael Jackson into a riddle of which the press and the public never grew tired.

The interest was never greater than during Jackson’s trial on sexual molestation charges near Santa Barbara, Calif., in 2003. He was eventually acquitted, but it revealed the most inappropriate aspects of Jackson’s desire to be among children. Whether you were a cynic who felt he was a pedophile who escaped justice, or whether you were a supporter who believed he was a misunderstood genius who only wanted to help people, he certainly seemed to invite trouble, whether through naivete or lasciviousness or a strange brew of both.

After that, there were various Michael Jackson reports. He was living in Bahrain. He was living in Nevada. He was preparing a major tour. He was pondering an extended engagement in Vegas. He lost Neverland Ranch. He made a deal to save it.

What usually was missing from any Michael Jackson report in the past 25 years or so was the music. There was a time when soul and rhythm and blues ruled, when Motown was a dominant force in the record business, when acts such as Stevie Wonder and Diana Ross and the Temptations and the Four Tops and Marvin Gaye were as big in their world as the Beatles and Elvis Presley were in theirs.

They didn’t get that way through subterfuge, gimmicks or spin. They crafted radio-friendly songs that were vibrant and passionate and original, and they made an impact on the music business that is still felt today in newer generations of artists.

The Jacksons were right in the middle of all that. They produced hits such as “I’ll Be There,” “I Want You Back,” “ABC” and “Never Can Say Goodbye” that burned up the charts and remain pop classics. Then Michael went solo and combined songwriting prowess with performance legerdemain to become one of the most astonishing acts ever. Songs such as “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough,” “Rock With You,” “Billie Jean,” “Beat It” and “Thriller,” to name a few, have endured — and will endure.

Perhaps those songs will make future generations forget about the unusual and the unfortunate involving a modern-day prince with king-sized accomplishments and a child’s imagination.