JANET JACKSON'S "EMPTY”—THE ANTHEM FOR DIGITAL LOVE
Twenty-six years later, the landscapes of music, Internet culture, and love have been redefined, yet few works of art blend all three as effectively as Janet Jackson's "Empty".
Malik Berry
If there's one artist you can point to and say "Modern pop owes its existence to you”, it would have to be Janet Jackson. After cutting ties from the management of her tyrannical father and annulling her marriage to James DeBarge, the youngest of the Jackson children teamed up with the production duo of Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis to embark on a four-album run that would solidify her position as a pop and R&B icon.
After the success of the first half of this remarkable streak, Control (1987) and Rhythm Nation 1814 (1989), Jam & Lewis sought to vary their sound with the rapidly evolving times. Along with Jackson deciding to write her own lyrics to emphasize that these are her own thoughts and views, this shift in her artistry led to 1993's Janet. This switch in her musical style beckoned the culmination of her masterpiece which was arguably the best album of the 1990s—The Velvet Rope (1997). Never has such a work of music been so consistent in its musical excellence while finally allowing black women the pleasure to voice what arouses, angers and depresses them. It's a complex portrait of the artist that further broke her out of being seen as the baby sister of a family dynasty.
Every song on the album works right into the overarching themes of emotional vulnerability and the complications of romance, whether it’s the righteous anger against an abuser in “What About”, or the soulful lament of missing someone in “I Get Lonely”. Most entrancing to me is "Empty", a song with content that demands to be singled out, even without being released as a single. In this song, Janet writes from the point of view of people in online relationships, something considered a bizarre practice at the time to the larger culture.
The Internet was still in its infancy when Velvet Rope was being recorded. Anonymity was still widespread. AOL Instant Messenger was just launched in May of '97 and it was two years removed from Match.com opening its virtual doors. The very idea of meeting someone online raised red flags that led to the oft-taught lessons of never trusting people online. One born into a generation after the dot-com boom can only imagine how the prospect of mutual infatuation with someone online was reacted to.
Janet Jackson took a sympathetic approach to the concept as she was an early user of the new medium of information herself, a testament to her legacy as a trailblazer, not just in music but overall culture. "I use [computers] to write and communicate with people all over the world”, she said through a fansite Q&A, something lightyears ahead in terms of fan interaction at the time. "I believe computers are capable of tremendous good. But I also think about people whose only connection to other people is through a computer."
She explained further: "I wonder what kind of reality that creates and what kind of romantic frustrations it produces. After the machine is turned off and the electronic glow fades away, I wonder if you feel empty.” This pondering on the emptiness felt after a network connection dies and communication with the object of our affection is cut off is what led to the creation of "Empty”. It was as if the web was writing the song with her.
The song is preceded by the interlude "Online" which features the sound of a clacking keyboard and that familiar yet dated dial-up buzz. A spoken four-count starts “Empty”, one that’s distorted as if a low-res soundbite playing through a tiny speaker. What follows is the reverberated sound of a light keyboard melody reminiscent of early boot-up jingles and MIDI tracks that come with turning on the computer. Adding to this atmosphere is when the melody loops over after four measures, it skips over itself. This constantly interrupted loop is audible to even those without experience in audio mixing. It can be assumed that this is a deliberate decision from Jackson, Jam & Lewis, emphasizing the human error that even the digital world can't mask. It foreshadows the insecurity of our song's subject.
The first verse has Jackson questioning how her internet lover could be such a close confidant who knows all her fears and fantasies. As if an answer to herself, she belts out “But it feels so real” as the twinkling melody raises a pitch and leads into the chorus. Emphasized by her soaring harmonies, this hook features some of the most simple yet vivid lyrics of Janet’s career, blending the senses to show a desire that does make the connection feel real (“When I close my eyes, I can see your face/When I lick my lips, I can taste your smile/When I see your name, my heart starts to race”).
Its final line gives the song its name in a simple way: “If I can’t read your thoughts, then I feel empty.” You can find songs that speak about wanting to understand one’s partner as far as to read their mind or swap places to know exactly what they want. With ten words, Janet shows that the limitations of online contact are made up for when you can exchange your feelings and fantasies through text. Losing that connection is no different than not speaking to a lover you’ve always known in person. The pangs sting more in this case, as there’s no guarantee they’ll be back online when you are, or as long as you are. It’s an emptiness born from uncertainty.
The percussion begins to gradually build during the second verse in the skittering form of thin hi-hats, hollow snare hits, and the classic sound of a Roland TR-808 clap panning left to right. The more elements are added feel like a deeper dive into the protagonist’s struggle. She questions if she’s a fool, wasting her time for thinking what she feels for this other user counts as real love.
Even so, she elaborates on what this user provides: “Your phrases, descriptive/And through the textured words/With beauty, you post it/And use such colored verbs”. The implication here is that cybersex is a regular part of their interaction. Words alone are what the other user seems skilled at, enough to cause a romance to form for Janet who cries out a pre-chorus interruption of “We’ve never met”. Whereas she first cuts herself off to justify her adoration, this is that insecurity mentioned before. How could these emotions be involved if we’ve never had physical contact? Why do I feel empty when you log off?
It’s that common ennui felt today when some are left awake at night—all their friends on other sides of the country, continent or even the world are asleep or at work. The difference is for the time the song was written, the download speeds were far shorter. It was a gamble whether or not your time chatting with another user would be fruitful. What webcams they had were of poor quality, and it would slow that connection down to a chug. It develops “Empty” into a tragedy hidden behind the longing.
Today’s internet relationships can range outside of a sexual aspect. There are those who find friends through certain avenues of erotic text-based roleplay. One such site called F-List has cultivated a community of people advertising fantastical characters to play out sexual scenarios with. I know of one married couple who have met through the site and that was mostly in part to being more open about similar interests, another broad showing of the time between Velvet Rope and today.
We’re in an age where internet subcultures bleed into others and small interactions blossom into more rewarding results. While more blatant about its users’ reasons for registering, a site like F-List strikes me as little different from Twitter and only a step away from dating apps. The more sterile presentation of the likes of Tinder or even Grindr treat people more as commodities for the gratification of a date or one-time sex. While those do have the opportunity to turn into something more, one can’t help but find the initial connection temporary and impersonal just to reach a point of synergy.
This is precisely what makes “Empty” relevant today in a more entrancing way. Dating apps can have their uses but it operates as a first step more than anything. If someone is to find the desire for someone from afar without being face-to-face more romantic, then those chat rooms are where it can be found. You can be pressured by the expectations towards the physical—a privilege certain people of marginalized sexualities can’t enjoy–or you can have that loving validation with the stranger miles away. Whatever it takes place in, it’s real love.
Janet’s disappointed sigh at the end of the track once the other user disconnects is a bittersweet coda. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, it only bolsters what joy that love can bring. In an album encompassing the feelings of loneliness or lost love, it’s one of the more progressive expressions of that feeling. “Empty” welcomes the possibility of love bound not only by gender or borders. Love has the ability to transcend the physical and arbitrary barriers of communication in the digital age. A future we are currently in and continue to thrive with.
Malik Berry is a writer, musician, and community organizer based in Baltimore with an interest in using art and media to further social change. When not creating, they can be found reading, watching movies, working out, and trying to put everyone they meet onto Melvin van Peebles. You can follow them on Twitter and Medium.
