Special Guest Blogger: Stephan Cox Names Worst Videos of All Time

Well, we got back from New York on Saturday, went literally two hours after landing to a Christmas party, and have been in sort of a Christmas fugue state ever since-- a state involving errands, and wrapping paper, and online ordering, and the UPS man knocking on our door approximately every seventeen minutes with something someone ordered for us, or something we ordered for someone else-- you get the idea.

Considering all this, you'd think that I wouldn't have the time to come up with funny stuff for my blog, and well, you'd be right.  But-- lo and behold!  My charming and clever husband has agreed to be my guest blogger today, providing you with what I think is one of the funniest breakdowns of bad eighties videos I've ever seen.  Because frankly, we know you're in your office, and you've probably just given up on working altogether now, right?  And now you're just looking for funny stuff. 

And now, without further adieu, I give you:

Worst.  Video.  Ever.
by Stephan Cox

So, in a fit of pique induced by attempting to find the worst rock video ever (and by worst, I sort of mean best), I managed to unearth a gem I hadn’t seen since it first was aired on Friday Night Videos in the early 80s. (Note: I grew up in a very rural area that didn’t have access to cable, thus, no MTV. So in order to see any music videos at all—without a doubt the lingua franca of my peers at the time—I had to watch the ghetto version, Friday Night Videos, on whatever the hell network channel it came on. On Friday nights no less. It was fuzzy and I had to adjust the antenna (!) to get a picture. I was probably 14 at the time… Good Christ. This both dates me and makes me look like a bumpkin loser at the same time.)

 

All this started yesterday when my friend Cory, for reasons only known to him, forwarded me the video of ”One Night in Bangkok," by Murray Head:




For you younger folks, this piece of pop culture ephemera comes from a simpler time. A less ironic time. A tackier time. This was a song from a hit Broadway show called “Chess,” about, well, chess. The video features Mr. Head (and BTW, if your family name is “Head,” a) change it, b) pronounce it differently, or c) for the love of God, don’t name your child “Murray”) walking along in his skinny tie and suave je ne sais quoi, surrounded by assorted musical theater types dancing and emoting Cats-style. This was the 80s, after all. By any standard, this is a bad video. A cringe-worthy video. But not one for the ages.

 

The next video he sent along, to torture me presumably, was for the cover version of "Puttin' on the Ritz," by a singer named Taco:




Now we’re getting somewhere. This particular video is likely shown on a continuous loop in Dante’s 8^th or 9^th circle. It features a heavily made up, really, really gay man (Note: It’s okay—as Lori has mentioned before, we were both drama majors, and we’ve lived in San Francisco, LA and Manhattan. We’re honorary gays) sashaying about a sound stage in thick pancake makeup, wearing a white tuxedo, and sporting a neon cane.

 

I remember when preparing for a garage sale during my youth my parents going through some old boxes, finding some of their old clothes—two-tone platform shoes and matching vest for Dad, ultra-suede dress with peasant blouse for Mom—and them blanching about the styles they wore in the 70s (and these were the clothes they got married in, I shit you not. I have photos). After watching the Taco video, I can somehow relate. It’s not that I ever walked into high school in with a neon cane and white tuxedo, God forbid, but I remember thinking when I first saw that video, “Hey, that guy’s pretty outrageous. That takes some forward thinking. A man wearing makeup. Maybe it’s only a matter of time before we’re all doing it.” Much like my parents likely thought when they ordered out of the Halston catalogue for their wedding outfits.

 

The song in the video is unbearably bad. It wasn’t a song that needed to be remade, and certainly not to an electronic beat. (Another note to those of you who grew up on the 80s: remember when you first heard electronic music? I sure do. I remember being so completely blown away by Depeche Mode, New Order, Yaz. I thought, “Wow, they don’t even need actual instruments to make this music. We’ve clearly arrived at the apex. Music will never sound more modern. There will never come a day when people play this music for kitsch and nostalgia sake. I will never grow old. I will never die. I think I’ll take up smoking.”) So, as the guy does his little fruity two-step through the sound stage while lip-synching the song, crowds of musical theater types dressed like 1930s homeless people pop up hither and thither, doing little soft-shoe routines. I can imagine the pre-production meeting for this video: “We need hoboes. But hoboes who can dance!”

 

It’s a terrible, terrible video for a terrible, terrible song. Embarrassing. Awful. But not great-awful. Not even close. Not when compared to the Rosetta Stone that is Journey's video for "Separate Ways."  This one has a strange Casey Kasem intro, but don't let that throw you.  It's pure Journey goodness.



I know, I know, this video gets voted worst video of all time by VH1 and whatever the hell, but I promise you, I hadn’t seen it since it aired on Friday Night Videos back in the day, and I just happened to remember it in the clutch after Cory had sent the previous two videos. I needed something good. Something jaw dropping. Something featuring grown men playing air instruments. I found it.

 

Please, please, if you’ve never had the pleasure of seeing this video, do so now. I’ll wait.

 

There’s so much going on here, it’s hard to know where to start. First of all, there’s the locale. At this point, the band is a major touring act, selling out stadiums all over the world. They have, like, three platinum albums. And for some reason, they’re shooting a video on a shipping dock in Oakland, and playing air instruments. For no particular reason.

 

Then, there’s the woman, who is... so 80s. The curling-under pompadour, the makeup, the leather skirt. And as my wife said upon seeing it, you just know she’s got a giant bush. One of those monsters that creeps up the belly and out over the thighs. No one seemed to mind those back then. It boggles the mind. Anyway, this woman walks in and out of the frame, and every time she exits, she walks into the same warehouse. What’s in there?

 

The most compelling thing, of course, is just how seriously the band is taking the whole thing. Steve Perry, with his noodly little arms poking out of a muscle shirt, is giving it all he’s got, as the band alternately plays a) their actual instruments, b) no instruments, and c) their instruments on a wall. The drummer actually does a drum fill on a set of garbage cans at one point. The audio track goes off at a point when Steve is lip synching. What makes it great is that they’re all just so damn committed to the song, at one point, fanned out like a gay barbershop quintet, leaning enthusiastically into the camera and exhorting us that, “one day, love will find you, break those chains that bind you…”

 

What is mind-boggling is that even after a full day spent shooting this video, after watching the rushes and the dailies of their performances, and then, at last, watching the finished product, the entire band went, “Yep. Looks great! Ship it!” Not one of them thought to yank the emergency break on this sucker.

 

Anyway, lucky for us they didn’t. Oh, and my friend Jim then sent me this video of some obviously bored youngsters who did a shot-by-shot reproduction of the Journey video:



These kids get it. There is hope for the future.

Comments

[Karen]

okay, the trip down memory lane had me running into many a brick wall. Mainly because I couldn't see for laughing so hard!

1) One Night in Bangkok - I actually still have the sheet of notebook paper in Mizz Lori's fifth-grade (maybe 6th) handwriting of this song! my favorite part? where Lori thought Yul Brenner was Huel.
and a little side note to this...my great nephew's (yah! that doesn't make me sound old at all!) last name is Head...my step father and I thought it would be a great idea if they had named him...Richard.

2) Puttin' on the Ritz is the song Lori and I ice skated to when we were about 12, and I toe-picked ice right into her eye. ask her about that fond memory.

and is it just me or does Taco bear an uncanny likeness to Jon Cryer in his Morgan Stewart days?

[angela]

First of all, I am at work, at my desk, and have, yes, already mentally checked out – it is only 8:45am.

I have to say thanks for these truths for SO many reasons...

Let's get one thing straight - I do not love anything 80s, nor am I overly sentimental about this decade just because I came through it. BUT, things I love about today's blog:

#1) As I was watching each video, I found myself lip-synching to each song. Holy crap! I can't believe I remember ALL the lyrics to each one of these songs – and I am talking about EVERY lyric…including ALL the words to One Night in Bangkok. Aside from how scary that is on so many levels, it makes me wonder why I have a hard time remembering my ex-stepmother’s birthday. Hmmm…

#2) While I was lip-synching to each song, I found myself remembering all of my “lost” skate moves. Should I ever go skating again, this blog has uncovered a repertoire of amazing moves that I can really rock out again! I hope they play “I Love a Rainy Night” – a have a special signature move for when the lighting lights up the sky.

#3) We didn’t have MTV at my house either so my music news also came from staying up late to watch the newest videos on Friday Night Videos. I still remember the excitement of the world premiere of Thriller. Anyway, somewhere in my youth, one late Friday night, my eyes all bleary from staying up late, I guess I made a critical error that has haunted me until your blog. I just realized that Keanu Reaves is not the lead singer for Journey. Thanks for clearing that up, man.

I got one to toss to you for all the juicy nuggets you threw to me today…Not only was Murray Head’s name worthy of some giggles, but his full name is Murray Seafield Saint-George Head. Now put that in your Trivial Pursuit bin and smoke it!!!

[Rachel]

Just a little bit of trivia for you. Murray Head is the brother of Anthony Stewart Head. Tony Head is Giles, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer aka the Best Show Ever Made.

[Mr]

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