Like most people who consume music on a daily basis and care about what’s going on in the world, I stayed up way past my bedtime to watch Beyoncé’s historic Coachella performance. Also, like most people, I lost my entire damn mind. I stanned with the best of the Beyhive on Twitter. I texted all my friends from Florida A&M University and talked about how Beyoncé turned this white music festival into the best HBCU homecoming halftime performance ever. I scoured the depths of the internet to find the studio version of "Everybody Mad," inclusive of Beyoncé’s ad libs and epic horn section. I watched in true scorpio fashion as Beyoncé deniers turned into true believers. I screamed from the tops of social media mountains with a collection of YouTube clips and merch to drive home the point that I had been making since 2013: Beyonce is currently the greatest living entertainer. No questions.

Of course, after the 48 hours of prescribed “Beyhive fever” wore off, and I came down to a state of “I can rationally discuss with you why Beyoncé is better than your fave”, I began reading the think pieces. I started with the good, of course. I dived into the echo chamber to validate what I had been telling people all weekend. I entertained the naysayers to acknowledge that I’d “seen both sides.” I engaged in the standard cultural criticism that comes when Beyoncé does literally anything (which further proved my point, but you know, haters gonna hate).

But as I scoured the internet, I began to run into an argument that made me arch my eyebrow in skepticism. An argument that I, currently bathing in the purest form of stan-dom, couldn’t fully wrap my head around.

Could Beyoncé be better than Michael Jackson?

Now, for further perspective, my appreciation for Michael Jackson is great. My parents owned a massive jigsaw puzzle that when put together displayed a smiling MJ, and his primate companion, Bubbles. I’ve see Captain EO at least 15 times, and can recite the full ending ad lib to "Remember the Time" (which is a real hit at parties, let me tell you). I own first edition pressings of both Off the Wall and Thriller, and I never shy away at a chance to embarrass myself on the MJ Experience game for the Wii.

So, like the music scholar that I am, I explored this argument. Gifted warriors of the Beyhive pointed out Beyonce’s ability to push millions of sold copies of both 2013’s Beyoncé and 2016’s Lemonade with little to no promotion. They discussed the groundbreaking musical film that accompanied Lemonade and the black female narrative it told on a nationally recognized outlet. They brought up her many acts of charity, many of which go unnoticed. And of course, they discussed the earth shattering Coachella performance which shattered, rebuilt and placed the bar on the highest shelf in the kitchen cabinet where future performers will struggle to reach, if able to reach at all.

In contrast, Michael Jackson aficionados combatted these arguments with MJ’s legacy. Michael’s influence on music is completely unmatched. He hit the highest of notes without so much as a strain, and moved like his body was made of both water and electricity. He could command an entire stadium of people with just the turn of his head, and made the most absurd outfits look out of this world (who else could make black penny loafers look cool?). There’s no way Beyoncé could be better than Michael, they said, because there would be no Beyoncé without Michael.

To quote an infamous bumbling idiot, there are good people and arguments on both sides of this conversation. There is no question to the legacy of Michael Jackson. Without the strides he took and the waves he made during his career, the politics of the music industry would look very different. But Beyoncé’s accomplishments shouldn’t be dismissed just because she came after Michael. If MJ moonwalked so Beyonce could be on the run, it could be possible that Beyonce could outshine the legacy of the King of Pop.

But, and hear me out on this, maybe arguing over who’s better is pointless?

To compare Michael Jackson and Beyoncé is to compare two music titans who played by the rules of the industry until they were big enough to make their own. It means having to dissect the careers of pop culture phenoms who didn’t transcend race, but stormed extremely white spaces while remaining steadfast in their blackness. They both moved in ways that, advertently or otherwise, called for cultural criticism and inspection. One could try to construct a case based on numbers, but with the ever changing ways of music consumption, that would be like comparing record players to iPods.

That’s not to say that everyone can’t have their faves. If "Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough" speaks to you in a way that "Love On Top" never could, then so be it. But, I think we should stop ourselves from going down the black hole of “who is more legendary.” It’s impossible, and honestly counterproductive, to compare a legacy that’s already been built, to one that we’re seeing being constructed before our very own eyes.