What happens when you were a vital part of the biggest musical group in the world, only to watch your younger brother become the biggest star in the universe? What happens when the spotlight you once shared now only illuminates the massive shadow you are forced to live in? For Jermaine Jackson, this wasn’t a hypothetical question. By the late 1980s, it was a harsh, daily, and career-defining reality.

Being bandmates with your siblings might sound like a dream, but as the Jackson 5’s story unfolded, it proved to be a potential “absolute nightmare”. The fierce sibling rivalry, once a private matter, had become a public spectacle, particularly between Michael Jackson and his older brother, Jermaine. While Michael had ascended to a god-like status following 1987’s “Bad” and one of the most ambitious solo tours in history, Jermaine’s reality was starkly different.

By the late 1980s, Jermaine Jackson was a man adrift. His solo music career, following a series of commercial failures, was “yet again on the decline”. He was acutely aware that another chart flop could “essentially kill off his already fragile Popstar status”. He knew he needed to “shake things up” in a big way. For the first time, he took his time—three years in total—to meticulously craft a new record, working with talented producers to create what he believed was “some of his best work”.

But talent alone wasn’t enough. To be heard by the masses, Jermaine knew he needed to “generate public excitement”. His solution was a gamble born of nostalgia and necessity: reunite The Jacksons. The goal was to “recapture the white heat of Fame and publicity” they had last experienced on the controversial, yet massive, Victory Tour five years earlier.

There was just one, insurmountable problem. Michael said no.

Having actively “distanced himself from his family in recent years”, the King of Pop had zero interest in reliving the past. He was focused on his own colossal output and, by the late 80s, was already planning to quit music to pursue a movie career. Younger brother Marlon also passed, opting to focus on his own solo efforts.

This left the “remaining members”—Jackie, Tito, Randy, and Jermaine—to continue the group’s legacy alone. The new, Michael-less “Jacksons” were immediately faced with a skeptical industry. Pundits openly speculated that they were “nothing without their moonwalking brother”. This was their one chance to “silence those Skeptics”.

Jermaine, taking the lead, spearheaded a new strategy. If they couldn’t have Michael, they would chase the sound that was dominating the charts. Inspired by the “new generation of black artists”, they dived headfirst into the rhythms of Hip Hop, R&B, and New Jack Swing, a sound pioneered by artists like Keith Sweat, Bobby Brown, and their very own sister, Janet. To guarantee chart success, they nabbed LA Reid and Babyface, “The hotest Blaze production team” behind recent hits for Paula Abdul and Bobby Brown.

The first single, “Nothin’ (That Compares 2 U),” was a “quintessential La Babyface number” that received a positive initial response, getting playlist adds from 84% of black radio stations in its first week. But a radio hit was only half the battle. The group had a severe image problem. The public’s last memory of them was the 1984 tour, which had spawned “headlines of family infighting, dodgy dealings, and cash grab business practices”. The brothers were widely seen as “desperate opportunists, spoiled by the trappings of Hollywood”.

Jermaine’s solution was a radical rebrand. He wanted to “switch Focus and take things way back”, before fame and money had defined them. This new image was to be humble, authentic, and grounded. “It has no Glitter,” Jermaine stated, “which is what a lot of the public perceives with the Jacksons. They think we’re pretty much out of reach, but on this album, we took it back to the street”. The album artwork reflected this, swapping “head to toe sequins and Space Age costumes” for casual dress and dark shades.

The centerpiece of this rebrand was the album’s title track, “2300 Jackson Street,” a reference to their “modest family home back in Gary, Indiana”. The song was a complete departure from their New Jack Swing edge, a “candy-coated Melody and Hallmark card” celebration of “family Unity”. To sell the message, the family went all-in. Michael, Janet, Marlon, and Rebbie all made guest appearances, along with 16 nieces and nephews.

For Jermaine, this was his “proudest moment on the lp”. “We’re very excited about it,” he proclaimed. “It tells the story of how my mother and father brought us into this world”. The song, with its earnest lyrics “still today we’re one big family”, was the family’s direct “answer to critics and constant speculation of feuding”. “We want to set the records straight,” Jermaine said.

But the façade of unity was paper-thin. The track supposedly representing the entire, united Showbiz Dynasty was “missing one crucial and increasingly outspoken member”: their middle sister, LaToya. At that very moment, LaToya was dominating tabloid headlines with her own “Playboy pictorial and upcoming Beall autobiography”, creating a “deeper Rift than what the Jacksons would have liked to let on”.

The public wasn’t buying the manufactured nostalgia. Despite the all-hands-on-deck PR push, the single “2300 Jackson Street” “failed to cross over into the Billboard Hot 100”. The album fared little better, peaking at a dismal number 59.

Critics were merciless. While some conceded it was an improvement over “Victory,” the consensus was damning. One reviewer commented that the album “shines occasionally but suffers from too much mediocrity and from too high expectations for a group that once… gave us unparalleled greatness”. That “unparalleled greatness” was a clear reference to Michael, the very person they were trying to prove they could live without. Critics noted that the brothers “mostly just sang and left the rest to Outsiders”, resulting in a record that “showcases its production more than any Unique Edge”. The final verdict: “The results: forgettable”.

The comeback had failed. Yet, Jermaine “soldiered on”, immediately releasing his 12th solo album, “Don’t Take It Personal.” Its title track, rumored to be a “possible message to his ex-wife” Hazel Gordy after their contentious divorce, gave Jermaine a flicker of hope. The single climbed to number one on Billboard’s black singles chart.

This small victory seemed to embolden him, pushing him to finally define his own goals, separate from his brother’s. “I want to be accepted as a great singer, but one who has never lost the common touch,” he said. In a moment of striking self-reflection, he drew a line in the sand: “I want to be judged on my own merits. Michael wanted to be the biggest star in the world. I don’t want to be the biggest star. That’s not most important to me”.

But the market’s timing was, once again, brutal. It wasn’t just Michael’s shadow he had to contend with. Jermaine’s album was released at the exact same time as his “baby sister’s too”—Janet’s “much anticipated record, Rhythm Nation 1814”. The press naturally speculated on the “varying levels of success”.

The critics who had been unkind to “2300 Jackson Street” were savage toward Jermaine’s solo effort. One writer for the Calgary Herald weighed in: “Little brother Michael is a superstar and little sister Janet is rising fast, but Germain Jackson has never made much of an impression. This album has 10 good reasons why. It’s no different than his others, which means it should be in the discount bins by Easter”.

The album, called “full of sappy love songs that aren’t particularly good”, failed to cross over. “Don’t Take It Personal” became Jermaine’s “lowest billboard charting album in over a decade”, stalling at number 115.

The final humiliation came with his attempt to tour. A series of UK solo performances in the spring of 1990 had to be ignominiously cancelled. The reason? Ticket sales for venues with a capacity of 2,000 “didn’t even get into three figures”.

Jermaine Jackson had tried everything. He had tried to recapture the past, tried to emulate the present, tried to rebrand as humble, and tried to go it alone. But at every turn, he was met with the same crushing reality: he was a Jackson, but he was not Michael. He was not even Janet. He was trapped by the “unparalleled greatness” of his own name, unable to find the “common touch” he so desired. This bitter struggle was far from over, and as the 90s loomed, the relationship between Jermaine and his superstar brother would only continue to deteriorate, eventually leading to public accusations and a “word that bad” diss track. The battle for his own identity was just getting started.