Okay, tell me I’m crazy. On Fleetwood Mac’s 1982 single “Hold Me”, immediately after the third “hold” in the chorus, there’s a cough, right? I haven’t been hearing things for 35 years, right? Right?!?
https://youtu.be/wWdgTraidlU
I hear it every time the chorus plays. “Hold me, hold me, hold- (cough) -ME-eee.” If it’s not a cough, what the fuck is it? A sneeze? A blob of mustard from a 3M employee’s sandwich? What???
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Filed under Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Girls of BIUL, Nostalgic Obsessions, Thousand Listen Club
In 1997, electronica duo The Chemical Brothers released their second album, Dig Your Own Hole. It went on to be an extremely popular example of “big beat” music, and is included in numerous “Best Albums of All-Time” lists. I had a copy of the CD in my old car for so long the case turned into shardy shit.
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Filed under Faint Signals, Late To The Party, Thousand Listen Club
Parallel universes figure into popular science fiction every so often, but whereas now they are used to explain inconsistencies, in the past they were an intriguing alternative to outer space as a setting. The short-lived TV show Otherworld from 1985 is one example, with its no-frills labels (like in Repo Man) and dumb upside-down pistols. A better-known version of the concept is the cartoon Kidd Video, which aired on NBC Saturday mornings around the same time.
(l-r) Ash, Whiz, Kidd, Carla. Yes, the nerd with yellow hair is called “Whiz”.
Everything I’ve mentioned thus far sucks to varying degrees (well, except Repo Man). But because of that “parallel universe” icing, the crap tasted sweeter than cake. Continue reading
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Filed under Animation Analysis, Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Girls of BIUL, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions, Zappalogy
I’ve admitted before that I am not fond of the medium of “music video”. I have observed it from its infancy; I lucked out and happened to be present when MTV started broadcasting in summer of 1981. If you enjoy being awkwardly sung to by a band, or like to be teased with sleazy, half-naked sluts, MTV was your White Knight, bubby.
Everyone wants to break into the movies, so it’s easy for a coked-up director to cajole an otherwise sensible group into painful, cringe-worthy antics. Then another director would react by crafting the most pretentious, arthouse video possible, all long takes and black-and-white aesthetics. “They’re like mini-movies,” say the line-toers, ignoring that music videos typically appropriate and condense everything meaningful about film. Some people will say anything to promote their clients.
But like Tijuana Bibles and Bumfight videos, there is still a vein of good under mountains of terrible. For every ten thousand glamor-shot videos of the latest solipsistic pop bimbo, there is one that reminds you why the medium exists in the first place. Maybe it’s not merely a quick-and-dirty promotional tool; it is like a “mini-movie”.
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Filed under Faint Signals, Late To The Party, Thousand Listen Club
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