Bubbles the Chimp: Michael Jackson's secret weapon to crack the code of Pop music

I have a theory!

It came to me in the middle of the night, somewhere between an old Queen bootleg and a YouTube rabbit hole of Michael Jackson interviews. It sounds absurd on the surface—but as with many things involving pop music and primates, the truth often does. Here it is:

Michael Jackson didn't keep his chimpanzee, Bubbles, around just for company. He used him as a secret weapon, an uncredited A&R consultant—to test the universal appeal of his music.

Now, before you close this tab, let me explain.

Let’s go back to the early 1980s. Michael Jackson is on top of the world. Thriller (1982) is rewriting the rules of pop music. Jackson is no longer just a performer—he’s a brand, a phenomenon, a global obsession. Around this time, he adopts a young chimpanzee named Bubbles from a Texas research facility and begins taking him everywhere: photo shoots, TV interviews, even recording sessions.

And here’s where things get truly fascinating.

According to studio legend (and confirmed by Queen’s longtime producer Reinhold Mack), Michael Jackson and Freddie Mercury attempted a musical collaboration in 1983. The idea was electric: two icons of stage and sound, merging their styles into something explosive. But it didn’t last. Mercury walked out. Why? Reportedly, because Jackson kept bringing Bubbles into the studio… and talking to him.

Not just casually, either. Jackson would, after each take, turn to Bubbles and say:“What do you think? Do you like it?”And he meant it. Bubbles’ opinion mattered.

Mercury, who was famously perfectionistic and allergic to distractions (especially primate ones), had had enough. He left. The project was shelved. The two never finished the songs.

Now, to most people, this would seem like one of Jackson’s infamous eccentricities. But I believe there was method to this apparent madness.

Michael and Bubbles having fun

Let’s talk science.

Pop, as a genre, is slippery. It’s not like jazz or metal, which are defined by technique or instrumentation. Pop is defined almost entirely by mass appeal. Something is pop not because it sounds a certain way, but because a lot of people like it. In fact, “pop” is arguably not a genre at all, but a sociological event.

So here’s my theory: Michael Jackson understood that pop music isn’t about complexity, it’s about universal emotional response. And what better test group for pure, unfiltered emotional response… than a chimpanzee?

Michael and Bubbles in the 80's

A chimp has no musical training. No cultural bias. No genre allegiance. A chimp will not pretend to like a track because it’s “cool.” A chimp will dance or groove only if something in the rhythm, the melody, or the beat hits a deep, primitive nerve.

In short: a chimp is the closest thing we have to a pure, uncorrupted audience.

Now consider that humans and chimps share approximately 98.8% of our DNA. It’s not outrageous to think that what makes a chimp bop might just make a human bop too. Michael Jackson wasn’t being whimsical—he was using Bubbles as a kind of evolutionary litmus test. A biological barometer for global success.

This could explain why Jackson’s music, even decades later, still hits across cultures, languages, and generations. He wasn't just writing for Billboard charts—he was writing for the lizard brain. The limbic system. The part of us that hears a beat and just moves.

Now, was Bubbles a trained music critic? Of course not. Did he ever say, “That snare needs more compression”? Unlikely. But maybe—just maybe—his reactions offered something more valuable: instinctual honesty.

And think about it: would you rather get feedback from a focus group in a boardroom… or a creature that represents the untamed subconscious of the human race?

Of course, we may never know the full truth. Bubbles now lives in a sanctuary in Florida and is, by all accounts, retired from the music industry. Michael Jackson is gone. Freddie, too.

Today Bubbles is a painter and has been retired at the Center for Great Apes since 2005.

But the music remains. And next time you find yourself uncontrollably tapping your foot to Billie Jean or Smooth Criminal, ask yourself:

Was this tested on a chimp? And if it was… maybe that’s exactly why it works.