This is folk musician Paul Ubana Jones’ cover of the U2 song from 1992 – reportedly done with Bono’s approval. The song feels like something from the ’90s. It’s a pretty simple arrangement – the man, his guitar and some hip hop beats – and judging by the YouTube comments it touches many people.
The video keeps it just as simple, and also feels like something out of the ’90s. Most of the video is Paul singing the song, alone with his guitar in a black space. He’s a very striking person, with his big Afro and expressive face, and the video lingers makes good use of this visual.
Cut with this is footage of people (mostly women) posing artfully – a pregnant woman, a couple of little girls playing, an elderly woman and her daughter wearing saris, another old lady holding a picture of a solider, a farmer holding a gun and a teen couple having a moment. It feels a bit like a by-the-numbers ’90s music video. It’s nothing remarkable.
But I don’t think it needs to be. The YouTube comments are full of remarks from people who have had emotional reactions to the song (as well as teens excited to discover that their guitar teacher is so cool).
With so much of NZ On Air funding (rightly) being given to music that is so hot right now, sometimes it’s nice to find a song that exists in its own universe, away from the world of pop.
In the middle of Duncan Greive’s fab profile of Lorde in the October issue of Metro magazine, Ella Yelich-O’Connor and her manager Scott Maclachlan are discussing why the Lorde videos were made without NZ On Air funding. Maclachlan says the productions were so simple and inexpensive that funding wasn’t needed. Then Lorde drops a bomb, saying of the NZ On Air logo, “You know how much negative power that logo has for my generation?”
Whoa!
It would be easy to dismiss this as just a teen sassing off at the establishment for the sake of provocation, but her other observations are pretty spot-on (David Guetta is gross). But what’s behind it? Why would the NZ On Air logo seem negative to young people?
Chris Knox creates while the original logo rotates
It comes down to what the NZ On Air represents. All funded music videos must display the logo in their videos (though it can be removed for overseas broadcast). All it signifies is that the video received funding from NZ On Air, and at the bare minimum the funding panel thought the song was good. But the NZ On Air logo is not a mark of quality.
Let’s assume that all songs that receive NZ On Air video funding are of above-average quality. They’re the sort that the funding panel decide have a good shot at getting airplay in New Zealand. But that doesn’t mean that all the videos made for these songs are of above average quality. In fact, the quality of videos greatly varies. Great songs can have poor videos; average songs can have great videos.
No one sets out to make a bad music video. It just ends up that way. Sometimes it’s not having enough money to fulfil the director’s vision. Sometimes the band doesn’t come across well on camera. Sometimes someone’s mate, who said he’d do the video for free, just takes ages to do it and makes a half-arsed effort, despite his best intentions. Sometimes things just don’t work out.
So when all these disappointing music videos end up on TV or the web, they’re all out there with the NZ On Air logo.
K’Lee: no longer do you feel her
Other videos just don’t age well. They belong to a particular time and place (and that’s perfectly normal for pop), but when viewed a few years (or even months) later they seem a bit naff. K’Lee and TrueBliss’ videos had a particularly short shelf life, all with the NZ On Air logo.
A lot of artists who get NZ On Air funding are new, trying to get noticed – and some artists receive funding for only one or two songs before they disappear. It’s these early years, when the artist might still be finding their sound, trying to figure out if this whole rock thing is going to work out.
Compare Bic Runga’s first solo music video – the low-budget “Drive”, which sees Bic hanging around an apartment on her own – with the far more ambitious “Something Good”, with a huge supporting cast and Bic floating above Cuba Street.
But this is good. NZ On Air should be allowed to take chances on upcoming artists without demanding screen tests or video concept ideas first. A lot of the time these chances pay off and New Zealand bands enjoy long careers – Shihad and the Feelers are two who have made the most of NZ On Air funding. And Kimbra took early steps in the mid ’00s before her international success in 2011.
The Metro article notes that Lorde chose not to release any of her earlier experimental recordings, waiting until she was finally satisfied with “Royals”. But not all artists have the luxury of taking their time. For some, they’ve got a decent song, they’ve got music video funding so they’re going to make a video, even though they might not quite be ready for primetime.
In New Zealand, we only experience this with local artists. When an overseas artist has enough potential for their record company to promote them overseas, the label is going to put a lot of effort into marketing to make sure it’s worth it. So we never see the crappy videos from Australian bands who never make it in New Zealand, or the homemade vids for up-and-coming American bands. For example, Fall Out Boy’s low-budget debut video “Dead On Arrival” happily avoided New Zealand screens, but two years later their super slick “Dance Dance” video was all over the place. So because of this, the implication is overseas = cool videos; NZ = rubbish videos.
Deceptikonz: preaching to the choir
And then there are local bands who made cool videos without NZ On Air funding. In 2001, the Deceptikonz and Blindspott both released videos without any funding by NZ On Air (“Fallen Angels” and “Nil By Mouth”). Dawn Raid Entertainment funded the Deceptikonz video (and it had a crane shot!), whereas Blindspott’s video was a self-funded, cheap-as, $800 job. Both videos were good and both groups went on to many successes – and received NZ On Air funding for later videos. But the absence of the NZ On Air logo on their debuts seems to have done them a favour. It put them in the same category as groups like Crowded House – New Zealand artists who are so successful that they don’t need NZ On Air funding.
That’s not to say that there’s something inherently bad about NZ On Air videos or something good with independent videos. I’ve watched over a decade’s worth of NZ On Air music videos so far and there are a lot of really good ones in there. Well, at least what I think is good.
And consider the non-funded video for The X Factor winner Jackie Thomas’ debut single “It’s Worth It”. It seems inspired by Lorde’s “Tennis Court” video, but it looks and feels cheap. There’s no magic. Over on her Facebook page, hardcore Jackie fans were really upset that their idol had been given such a poor video.
Dave Dobbyn: cool uncle
The NZ On Air logo creates a club of sorts, its brand uniting disparate artists with only one thing in common. The problem is, one artist might not necessarily want to be associated with others in the collection. Does Lorde want to be seen as a peer of, say, a roots band like Katchafire, a serious rock band like the Feelers, or a veteran like Dave Dobbyn? In the article Lorde has a playful dig at Goodnight Nurse, the old band of her producer Joel Little, who received funding for 14 music videos. Does Lorde want to avoid being lumped in with a fun pop-punk band of the ’00s – even when it’s the band of her creative partner?
It’s not that there’s anything broken with NZ On Air. Plenty of artists are more than happy to have the logo on their videos – so far I’ve only come across two out of over 600 videos where the NZOA logo has been obscured in a later edit. It’s more that the logo has covers such a broad range of music videos from 22 years of New Zealand music that it’s come to represent business rather than art.
So while the artist might be striving to create a certain kind of image, along comes this little logo that suddenly snaps the viewer out of the universe of the video and takes them to the reality, of the band manager filling in a form, applying for music video funding, just like hundreds of other artists have done over the past two decades.
Update: What’s missing from this page? The current NZ On Air logo! Here it is in two versions – full colour and the grey watermark. They’re more subtle and deferential – a big improvement on the garish rotating animation of the ’90s.
This was Jester’s final NZ On Air-funded video. “Enemy” is a crunchy rock song (a change from the gentle “Fries With That”, but its main riff is rather reminiscent of the intro of “Plush” by Stone Temple Pilots. I don’t like unexpected wormholes into the ’90s.
The band themselves are absent from this video, replaced by animated robots. “Enemy” takes place in a dystopian robot world where a robot scientist has made an experimental rock band. It’s not such a flash build – eight-ball stands in for one of the lead singer’s robo-eyes. The eight-ball starts off the video on a journey seemingly inspired by the groovy pinballs of the Sesame Street counting song.
This roboband proves a hit, with their songs lighting up the hit song meter and causing a media fuss (in this robot world, there are still newspapers). But it’s all too much for these metallic musicians. Like a real band, they burn out – but that’s literal burn-out, falling apart and exploding in front of the horrified scientists.
It’s chaos. The roboband runs wild, creating havoc. I’m sure it’s some sort of statement about manufactured pop, about how put-together bands will never last. Except Jester themselves broke up in 2003, with a final gig that didn’t involve exploding robots.
The animation is of average quality. It’s not the worst-case scenarios of a half-finished mess, but there are lots of short cuts and scenes with little movement.
All the drama is concluded when a scientist pulls the plug on the roboband. The screen goes blank and the message “Support NZ music” appears along with Jester’s (now defunct) website address. It’s lazy to expect people will support New Zealand music just out of national loyalty. First the music and the band have to be good.
Best bit: the “Cuss 2000” device, fitted to bleep out the song’s one swear word.
This really kicked off the Elemeno P that would soon become a beloved live band. Lani, previously in Foamy Ed, had joined the group on bass, with the bonus being that she could sing, adding extra dimension to their songs. Also – Lani has the best hair.
“Everyday’s a Saturday” is pretty much an optimistic take on the miserabilistic anthem “Everyday is like Sunday” – the feeling when every day feels really awesome. The lyrics are more about how being in love makes everything feel perfect, but the video takes a more literal interpretation.
Like the “Fast Times in Tahoe” video, the band are again to be found in luxury surroundings. But this time they’re playing themselves – regular Elemeno P who just happen to be larging it in a fancy St Mary’s house overlooking Waitemata Harbour. It’s good-time, nice-guys fun band Elemeno P – much more likeable than the country club toffs of “Tahoe”.
The video opens with the band lounging around the pool, before heading into the kitchen for a hearty breakfast of Elemeno P-branded food (even though Weet-bix gets a direct mention in the lyrics), while a newspaper headline proclaims “Elemeno P rise to stardom”.
Then it’s time for a party, with the house guests getting a wrist stamp at the door. The video really dwells on the wrist-stamping scene, as if they’d spent so much effort setting it all up, they didn’t want to waste any of the shots. Hey guys, the drummer is stamping the wrists of the partygoers. Like at a gig. Lol.
The day (and the video) ends with a poolside concert, with all the wrist-stamped punters rocking out and not falling in the pool. But the big question is what will the next day be like? Will it be a Groundhog Day existence, the band forever doomed to live every day in their party house of Weetbix and wrist stamps?
Best bit: Lani’s very glam return from the shops, assisted by two shirtless beefcake helpers.
You know on shows like the X Factor, sometimes at an audition a judge will say “You look like a pop star”? Well, D2S don’t look like popstars. They look like some lads from a rugby club who have got together and made a music video to raise money for their club’s upcoming tour of Canberra.
But as it happens D2S (which is short for Destined 2 Shyne, which is long for for Destined to Shine) were a real pop group and “Ride with Me” was their Neptunes-inspired single. It had a lot of airplay on Mai FM and reached 14 in the pop charts.
It’s a pretty generic piece of early 2000s R&B pop. The lyrics are like a grab bag of genre cliches, a world of ballers, players and shorties. And then there’s the bit where “trust me” is rhymed with “oooh weee”.
The video is set in the showroom of a car dealer on Great North Road. It seems like they’ve chosen that setting for a bling take on the “ride with me” theme, but given that no one touches the cars – they only dance around them – it literally seems like a band who’s been allowed into a car dealer to shoot their music video with the proviso that no one’s allowed to touch the cars.
There’s one bit of the video that is a little disturbing. One of the guys sings “you know I want to be in you, girl” and he has a really aggressive look on his face. It’s scary, not sexy. This is why R&B videos typically have girls in them – to stop things feeling like a bunch of guys who have been in prison too long. (Check out Ja Rule and Bobby Brown’s magnificent “Thug Lovin'” for bling and girls and music done extravagantly well.)
That’s the problem. D2S had a decent song and just wanted to make a cool music video, like the sort of R&B videos they saw on TV. Curiously enough, a couple of years later Dei Hamo came out with the similarly themed “We Gon Ride”, that actually managed a properly blinged-out music video. But it’s hard to make a $5000 video grant look that fancy, even more so when you surround the group with $50,000 cars.
Best bit: the walk along the Great North Road, glistening in the rain.
In a way “Morning Light” was a breakout track for Concord Dawn. I remember at the time people who’d never previously listened to drum and bass were in love with its atmospheric charms and the emotion brought into a drum n bass track.
The video takes its inspiration from the lyrical mention of morning light, but the video is primarily based around the tempo and dynamics of the music, as well as the city of Auckland.
The video opens with pretty dawn scenes of the Auckland skyline, an orange sun rising over the dark city silhouette. The sun brightens and clouds float across the sky and it’s all kind of abstract.
But as soon as the big drum and bass bit kicks in, we’re down on the ground – the corner of Queen Street and Victoria Street, to be precise. Supergroove paid a visit to the corner in 1994 for “Sitting Inside My Head”, but they took a chilled out, slow-mo walk across the road. Concord Dawn’s experience is sped-up, capturing the hectic pace of the city.
Then we move onto the roads, with more sped-up action along the North-Western motorway. But this isn’t just a random drive. This journey out west leads to Piha beach for a reflective pause as the sun sets.
Once night is there, we’re off to a live gig, full of people dancing like they just don’t care. With Concord Dawn not being the most visually interesting group to watch perform (two dudes hunched over equipment), it’s a way of capturing the magic of their live shows without requiring them to fake it as big video stars.
Things conclude with some footage of the night sky, dark clouds ominously parting to reveal a full moon.
Best bit: the hoon along the North-Western – the traffic is good.
There’s quite a cool set-up to this video. We see Carly at home, at work and in the club, but it’s how she gets from place to place that is interesting. The three sets are built side by side, so Carly jumps on the camera trolly and travels across the sets – a perfect set-up for the modern lazy girl.
Carly wakes up in her bedroom that somehow looks most like a set, with walls that seem on the verge of wobbling. Scooting along to work, she ties on an apron and begins a shift at a greasy spoon diner. There’s another waitress wearing a traditional American diner waitress uniform and she seems a bit miffed that Carly gets to wear a tank top, jeans and sneakers. But it’s that simple outfit that takes her from home, to work, then to the club. And so it happens every day. Every top Carly wears – even the off-the-shoulder one – is suitable for all three places. It’s like a masterclass in smart-casual.
The song is a really sweet, radio-friendly pop tune. Carly works hard to overcome her bitchy resting face, but sometimes it just seems like she’s trying very hard to look happy and in love. But to be fair, that sort of pop video requires a demanding performance.
I feel a shoutout has to be given to Kylie Minogue’s “I Should be so Lucky” video, which also involved three rooms that were obviously a film set. It has a different feel to it than “Love Will Save Me”, with Kylie’s girl-nextdoor charms bringing cheer.
“Love Will Save Me” was directed by Greg Page. It’s remarkable that around the same time he was making videos for metallers 8ft Sativa and indie rock dudes PanAm, and pop-rock band Elemeno P. All different, all good.
Best bit: the sneer of the sassy waitress at the diner.
The uploader’s description: “Enjoyable video from 2002 which should be seen more often.”
The top-rated comment: “She comes from the lil country that could…NEW ZEALAND!”
And they both say it all, ready. It is indeed an enjoyable video, and its full of feelgood New Zealandness that goes down a treat with whatever sports-related national pride is setting the country on fire.
The video sees Bic on Cuba Street in Wellington, which had been dressed to make it look even more groovy and boho than it normally does. When the Bucket Fountain goes, it’s not a wet, messy splashstravaganza, but a joyful, light-catching water display. The video was directed by Chris Graham and was nominated for Best Video at the 2003 New Zealand Music Awards. It has a really sweet, warm Wellington-on-a-good-day feel to it, and Bic looks lovely.
But in this pleasant setting, Bic makes an alarming discovery: she’s invisible. For a professional performer, this must be an absolute nightmare. The nicely dressed businessman ignores her. The elegantly dressed kuia ignores her. The hipsters on bikes ignore her. All the stylish people of Wellington are ignoring Bic. Not even her NOM*D belt will render her visible.
What does it is the innocence of a child. A little girl happily accepts Bic’s offer of flowers that she apparently steals from a street vendor. This awesome moment inspires Bic to lift off into the air, causing all the people on the street to finally notice her. And it’s just as well that she’s wearing shorts under her dress.
But Bic’s not quite one of us. She can be seen, but is still semi-solid, as a taxi driver discovers. He seems quite upset by having driven his car through a pop singer, but Bic is on hand to comfort him. She then sets off on foot (best to stay off the road), and is followed by a group of smiling women. This leads her to being given a bunch of flowers by a young boy, at a weird pedestrian crossing where people queue in single file as they wait for the green man.
But we never find out if Bic becomes a solid, visible human, or if she just learns to live with her etherial state. Ah, such is the enchanting world of “Something Good”
Best bit: The Christophers for Crystals shop, a surely a case of nominative determinism.
Bonus: The single’s B-side was a remix of the song by Submariner, feat Tha Feelstyle. Peter McLennan has made a video for the track, using footage from the original video and clips of Tha Feelstyle from the “Hibiscus Milk” video.
This is a fun adventure. “Life will be the Same” is a dark, moody song and the video goes for a similar tone. As a single from their debut album “The Alphabetchadupa”, it continues to have a more serious, less fun feeling than the songs from their earlier EPs.
Things kick off with Betchadupa playing in a dark club. Initially the band are playing in shadows, with only a backlight illuminating Liam’s hair. The stage lights slowly grow brighter and we’re brought out of the uneasy darkness into a familiar rock scene.
After about a minute we meet the subplot, taking a leaf out of the big book of urban legends. There’s a lone hitch-hiker out thumbing a ride late at night. Eventually he’s picked up by Liam. He happily slings his bag in the backseat but soon he gets a little ticked off because Liam will not talk to him. Actually, I’ve never picked up a hitch-hiker because I’m terrified of having to make conversation with a stranger, so I feel him.
Later Liam stops the car in the middle of nowhere to have a wee… and then mysteriously disappears, leaving the hitch-hiker alone. The hitcher gives up waiting and drives off, but ends up being pulled over by a cop. He should have nothing to fear, right? Wrong. The cop (illegally!) searches the car and discovers what we assume to be Liam’s dismembered body in the hitch-hiker’s bag. Whoa! The hitcher is promptly arrested.
But then just to really mess with our minds, the hitch-hiker shows up in the audience of the shadowy Betchadupa show. Is he on parole already? No. This is some non-linear narrative for you. He leaves the club, goes out onto the street and thumbs a ride. And we know exactly what’s going to happen next.
Best bit: the clever fade between Liam’s dark face and a car’s headlights, briefly giving him a creepy “Total Eclipse of the Heart” appearance.
Note: The video is geoblocked to viewers in New Zealand and Germany, but everyone else should be able to view it. So if you can’t view the video, here’s a clip of the band performing the song live on “Space”.
It’s another solo release from Warratahs frontman Barry Saunders. He’s had two videos previously funded, popping up in 1995 and 1998, but this is the first that’s been online. “Rescue Me” is a pleasant country song, maybe heading more towards the alt-country side of things.
The video sees Barry go for a walk. And it’s a long walk. He starts off in Wellington, on Cuba Street. It’s down the south end, before it was chopped in two by the bypass, back when it was full of grotty old buildings (including a pre-reno Tonks Ave) full of interesting businesses taking advantage of the cheap rent.
But it’s not all boho Wellington. Through some clever cuts (like passing behind a tree), he seamlessly keeps on walking to other parts of Wellington, and then on to rural areas.
Wherever Barry walks, he keeps coming across musicians playing along with him. It’s not unbelievable to find a guitarist on Cuba Street, but things get surreal when there’s a string quartet in the middle of a field. Scenes with the musicians are shot in black and white (which is borderline cheesy), but as the picture turns to colour, the musicians disappear, suggesting it’s all in Barry’s head.
The video is shot in a slowed-down style, giving it a dreamy feel. Even when Barry is doing something as mundane as strolling around Wellington’s waterfront, the video takes on an epic tone. Good result.
Best bit: the trampoline on the grass verge outside a house, pedestrians be dammed.
This is folk musician Paul Ubana Jones’ cover of the U2 song from 1992 – reportedly done with Bono’s approval. The song feels like something from the ’90s. It’s a pretty simple arrangement – the man, his guitar and some hip hop beats – and judging by the YouTube comments it touches many people.
This was Jester’s final NZ On Air-funded video. “Enemy” is a crunchy rock song (a change from the gentle 
This really kicked off the Elemeno P that would soon become a beloved live band. Lani, previously in Foamy Ed, had joined the group on bass, with the bonus being that she could sing, adding extra dimension to their songs. Also – Lani has the best hair.
You know on shows like the X Factor, sometimes at an audition a judge will say “You look like a pop star”? Well, D2S don’t look like popstars. They look like some lads from a rugby club who have got together and made a music video to raise money for their club’s upcoming tour of Canberra.
In a way “Morning Light” was a breakout track for Concord Dawn. I remember at the time people who’d never previously listened to drum and bass were in love with its atmospheric charms and the emotion brought into a drum n bass track.
There’s quite a cool set-up to this video. We see Carly at home, at work and in the club, but it’s how she gets from place to place that is interesting. The three sets are built side by side, so Carly jumps on the camera trolly and travels across the sets – a perfect set-up for the modern lazy girl.
First, two comments from YouTube –
This is a fun adventure. “Life will be the Same” is a dark, moody song and the video goes for a similar tone. As a single from their debut album “The Alphabetchadupa”, it continues to have a more serious, less fun feeling than the songs from their earlier EPs. 
It’s another solo release from Warratahs frontman Barry Saunders. He’s had two videos previously funded, popping up in 1995 and 1998, but this is the first that’s been online. “Rescue Me” is a pleasant country song, maybe heading more towards the alt-country side of things.