#JanetJackson #JimmyJam #RhythmNation1814 #TerryLewis When Janet Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation 1814” was released, in 1989, I was a gangly nine-year-old, and still figuring out how my limbs moved. The album worked on me physically—it taught me things about my body—before I could make any sense of its themes. Back then, I took weekly piano lessons (I was terrible), and dutifully sang in my school’s chorus (also terrible). Listening to “Rhythm Nation 1814” in my bedroom with the door closed was the first time I realized that music could actually animate a person, taking full hold of the body and yielding a second, even more beautiful thing: dance. Lyrically, Jackson was exploring the idea that the right rhythm can intoxicate and control us, and, eventually, unite us as living, breathing, flesh-and-bone humans. To understand or harness that power, you had to be ready to move. This year, Jackson has reappeared in public view: she is on the ballot for induction into the Rock and Roll