Growing up in Gary, Indiana, wasn’t exactly a fairy tale for the Jackson kids. It was grit. It was a two-bedroom house on Jackson Street with nine children and parents who had massive dreams but very little cash. Honestly, when people talk about the Jackson siblings, they usually default to Michael’s moonwalk or Janet’s "Rhythm Nation" era. That’s fair, I guess. Those two changed the world. But if you actually look at the family tree, you realize the story is way more tangled and interesting than just two superstars. It’s a story of a rigid patriarch, Joe Jackson, and a group of siblings who were basically the first real "influencers" before the internet even existed.
They were a powerhouse. All of them.
Rebie and the Early Days
Maureen "Rebbie" Jackson is the oldest. She’s often the one people forget because she didn't jump into the spotlight as fast as the boys. She was born in 1950. While her brothers were becoming global icons, Rebbie was kind of the steady hand in the background. It wasn't until 1984—well after the Jackson 5 peak—that she released "Centipede." Fun fact: Michael actually wrote and produced that track for her. It hit number 4 on the R&B charts. She stayed away from the drama for the most part, focusing on her family and her faith as a Jehovah’s Witness.
Then you’ve got Jackie. Sigmund Esco "Jackie" Jackson. He’s the oldest brother and the one with that high tenor voice you hear on all the early hits. Before the music took over, Jackie was actually a talented athlete. He was drafted by the Chicago White Sox for a brief stint in minor league baseball. Can you imagine? A world where Jackie Jackson is a baseball legend instead of a pop star? It almost happened. But the pull of the family band was too strong. He was the "anchor" of the Jackson 5, even when Michael started taking all the leads.
Tito, Jermaine, and the Motown Machine
Tito is the one everyone underrated. People used to joke about what he actually did in the band, which is pretty unfair. Toriano Adaryll "Tito" Jackson was a legitimate blues guitarist. He’s the reason the band even started. The legend goes that Joe Jackson caught Tito playing his guitar after a string broke. Instead of just getting grounded, Tito had to show his dad he could actually play. That was the spark. Tito spent decades being the quiet one, but later in life, he finally embraced his blues roots with albums like Tito Time. He passed away recently, in 2024, leaving a massive hole in the family dynamic.
Jermaine is a whole different story.
💡 You might also like: Danny DeVito Wife Height: What Most People Get Wrong
Jermaine was the original co-lead singer with Michael. If you listen to "I'll Be There," you can hear that vocal trade-off. Things got messy in 1975. When the Jackson siblings decided to leave Motown for CBS (becoming The Jacksons), Jermaine stayed behind. Why? Well, he was married to Hazel Gordy, the daughter of Motown founder Berry Gordy. Talk about an awkward Thanksgiving dinner. He had a solid solo career—"Daddy's Home" and "Let's Get Serious" were huge—but there was always that "what if" regarding his relationship with his brothers during the peak years.
Marlon and the Dancing Machine
Marlon Jackson is frequently called the "hardest working" Jackson. He wasn’t the best singer. He’d be the first to tell you that. But his choreography? Sharp. He was the one who had to keep up with Michael's relentless pace. There’s something really human about Marlon. He eventually pivoted away from the music industry more than the others, getting into real estate and even some tech ventures. He stayed out of the tabloids, which, given his last name, is basically a miracle.
Then comes Michael. What is there even left to say? He was the eighth child (if you count Brandon, Marlon's twin who died at birth). Michael was the supernova that eclipsed everything. By the time Thriller hit in 1982, the Jackson siblings weren't just a band; they were the supporting cast to the biggest entertainer on the planet. That shift was hard on the family. You see it in the Victory tour in 1984. It was the last time the six brothers toured together, and it was famously fraught with tension over ticket prices and ego.
Randy and the Transition to the 80s
Steven Randall "Randy" Jackson wasn't an original member of the Jackson 5. He was too young. He officially joined when they moved to CBS and became The Jacksons, replacing Jermaine on percussion and keyboards. Randy is actually a very talented multi-instrumentalist. He co-wrote "Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground)" with Michael, which is arguably one of the best dance tracks of all time. He also survived a horrific car accident in 1980 that doctors said would leave him unable to walk. He proved them wrong.
Janet: The Second Supernova
Janet is the youngest. Born in 1966. For a long time, she was just "Michael's little sister" who did some acting on Good Times and Diff'rent Strokes.
📖 Related: Mara Wilson and Ben Shapiro: The Family Feud Most People Get Wrong
Nobody expected Control.
When she teamed up with Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis in 1986, she didn't just step out of the family shadow; she blew the roof off it. Janet’s impact on pop music and choreography is arguably as big as Michael’s. She brought a certain edge and social consciousness—especially with Rhythm Nation 1814—that the brothers hadn't really touched. She’s the only one who truly rivaled Michael’s solo success, proving that the Jackson talent wasn't just a fluke of the 1960s.
The La Toya Paradox
La Toya is perhaps the most misunderstood of the Jackson siblings. She had a difficult run in the 80s and 90s, often managed by Jack Gordon, who many family members (and La Toya herself, later) described as abusive and controlling. Her book La Toya: Growing Up in the Jackson Family was a bombshell in 1991. It claimed all sorts of trauma behind the scenes. While she eventually reconciled with the family, she spent years as the "black sheep," making headlines for things that had nothing to do with music.
Why the Legacy Persists
Why do we still care about this family in 2026? It’s not just the music. It’s the blueprint. They were the first Black "royal family" of pop culture. They navigated the transition from the Chitlin' Circuit to stadium tours. They dealt with the pressures of extreme fame, parental control, and the inevitable fallout of being raised in a literal spotlight.
Every boy band today, from the moves to the branding, owes a debt to what these siblings did in Gary. They weren't just performers; they were a business. Even when the music stopped being the primary focus, the brand remained. You see it in the next generation, too—3T (Tito's sons) had hits in the 90s, and Paris Jackson is carving out her own path now.
👉 See also: How Tall is Tim Curry? What Fans Often Get Wrong About the Legend's Height
Moving Beyond the Myth
If you're looking to really understand the Jackson siblings, don't just watch the documentaries. Go back to the session logs. Look at the credits on the Destiny and Triumph albums. That’s where you see the craftsmanship. They weren't just puppets; they were writers, producers, and arrangers who fought for creative control against some of the biggest labels in the world.
The complexity of their lives—the legal battles, the health struggles, the public feuds—can overshadow the art. But the art is why we're still talking.
How to Explore the Jackson Discography Today
If you want to move past the "Greatest Hits," here is how to actually dive into the deeper cuts:
- Listen to "Destiny" (1978): This was the first album where the brothers had total creative control. It’s pure, soulful, and shows what they could do without a "handler."
- Check out Rebbie’s "Centipede": It’s a 1980s synth-pop masterpiece that holds up surprisingly well.
- Watch the "Triumph" Tour footage: This is peak performance. The choreography is tighter than any modern pop act you’ll see today.
- Read Katherine Jackson’s "My Family": If you want the mother's perspective, this is the most grounded account of their early years, far removed from the tabloid sensationalism.
- Separate the art from the "brand": Try listening to the Victory album without thinking about the drama of 1984. Songs like "State of Shock" (with Mick Jagger) are fascinating artifacts of music history.
The story of the Jacksons isn't over. It just changes shape. From the streets of Gary to the global stage, they remain the ultimate case study in talent, tenacity, and the high cost of the American Dream.