In the early 1980s, Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney were not just collaborators—they were friends. Their chemistry produced hits like “The Girl is Mine” (from Thriller) and “Say Say Say”, showcasing a playful rivalry over a woman. But just a few years later, that camaraderie would sour—over something far more serious than a fictional love triangle: music publishing rights.

The Early Bond: Music and Friendship

Their friendship began when Jackson recorded McCartney’s song “Girlfriend”, initially intended for Michael but released first by Paul’s band, Wings. Despite the mix-up, it ignited a musical partnership. In 1981, they collaborated further in London, with Michael even staying at Paul and Linda McCartney’s home. The pair grew close, often discussing songwriting and business.

One night, Paul showed Michael a notebook filled with songs he had acquired publishing rights to—classics like “Stormy Weather” and Buddy Holly’s catalog. He explained how music publishing was a goldmine, a lesson Paul learned the hard way after losing control of the Beatles’ publishing in the 1960s due to a public offering of Northern Songs.

Michael Learns the Business

Inspired, Michael told his attorney, John Branca, that he wanted to start buying music catalogs. By 1985, following the enormous success of Thriller, Jackson had the money to make big moves. When the ATV catalog, which held the rights to nearly every Beatles song, went up for sale, Branca asked Michael if he was interested.

Michael’s response? “I want it—please.”

Despite McCartney reportedly showing interest in reacquiring Beatles rights, he was not a serious bidder, possibly unwilling to pay for the non-Beatles material in the package. Jackson, however, made an aggressive offer and sealed the deal for $47.5 million—becoming the publisher of the Beatles’ catalog.

Fallout and Resentment

McCartney was blindsided. He had once taught Jackson the value of publishing—and now Jackson owned the rights to his songs. When the news broke, Paul received a call: “Michael bought your songs.” Paul called it “dodgy,” saying it was wrong to buy “the rug you’re standing on.”

Michael tried calling Paul to smooth things over, but Paul hung up every time. Eventually, Jackson stopped trying, telling people, “I’m finished trying to be a nice guy.”

The friendship collapsed, and tensions worsened when Jackson began licensing Beatles songs to companies. He sold “Revolution” to Nike, with Yoko Ono’s consent but not Paul’s. McCartney publicly criticized Jackson, arguing the music was being cheapened. For instance, “All You Need is Love” was used in a Panasonic ad, and McCartney feared other classics like “Good Day Sunshine” might be turned into cookie jingles.

Michael, on the other hand, believed he was helping Beatles music reach new generations. He reportedly told McCartney, “I’m enabling more people to hear and buy your music.” But Paul wasn’t having it. “I don’t think Michael needs the money. I don’t. And Yoko doesn’t either.”

A Failed Attempt to Reconcile

In 1990, Paul tried again to renegotiate the terms of his royalties with Michael. He explained how unfair it was that a fresh-faced 20-year-old contract could lock him in for life—even as Beatles hits like “Yesterday” reached record milestones. Michael seemed sympathetic at first, saying, “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

But the next day, McCartney’s lawyer called Branca to work out a new deal. Branca called Michael, who denied making any promises. “He’s not getting a higher royalty unless I get something in return.”

The partnership that once thrilled fans had completely unraveled. Jackson’s ownership of the Beatles catalog—something he was taught to value by McCartney—became a wedge between them that was never repaired.