2013 – Page 13 – 5000 Ways to Love You

P-Money feat. Scribe and 4 Corners “Synchronize Thoughts”

So, one afternoon in 2002 I was visiting my friend Dylan who worked in an office off Karangahape Road, sharing space with a TV production company and various other industry folk. Walking past one office, Dylz showed me a guy hard at work editing a music video. Giant orange letters floated around the screen, accompanied with the sound of Eastern European music mixed with hip hop stylings. I didn’t know what I was looking at, but there was something most intriguing about this video.

It turned out that the guy hard at work was director Wade Shotter and the video was P-Money’s second single “Synchronize Thoughts”, featuring Scribe and hip hop trio 4 Corners. It was another track that proved P-Money’s remarkable skills as a DJ and a producer, and further established Scribe as a hot young MC. Though, like previous single “Scribe 2001”, people tend to remember your name when it’s repeated throughout the chorus.

The video seems to have a somewhat higher budget than the DIY effort of “Scribe 2001”, but while it’s a simple set-up, the video has a slick, stylish look to it. The verses focus on the particular MC on vocal duty. They’re shot in the corner of a dark, shadowy room, and the minimal setting lets the lyrics stand out.

And it’s everyone in when the chorus comes along. Scribe takes the lead, with 4 Corners and P-Money backing him up. It’s a supremely confident video for a bunch of newcomers. But it’s pitched perfectly – it ain’t bragging if it’s true.

Best bit: the don’t-give-a-damn ending with just P-Money scratching.

Director: Wade Shotter
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… ice ice baby.

King Kapisi “Conversate”

A while ago I was speculating that Salmonella Dub’s “Push On Thru” journey to a ski slope could be the first half of the adventure Wham continue in their “Last Christmas” video. But here’s a much more interesting second half of a winter wonderland video scenario.

“This is a Urale clan production,” declares Kapisi at the beginning, and indeed it is, a lively, fun romp in the snow directed by the man himself, produced by his sister and edited by his cousin.

The “Conversate” video is set at the Cardrona skifield (“from Krush Groove to crushed ice”), with Kapisi taking his place on a throne made of packed snow while violinist Sam Konise stands next to him, playing along. Dammit, I want an ice throne and a violinist to punctuation my rhymes. There’s also action shots of snowboarders, clips of a ski simulator video game, and DJ CXL on the cut. So already the video manages to be more amazing in the first 20 seconds than Salmonella Dub managed in the whole video.

“Conversate” is a lyrical smackdown, a declaration from Kapisi, asserting his steez as a top MC. “Standing firm in a river of blood, killing you and your homies,” he alarmingly brags. The cliche would be to set this video in an urban setting, deep in a mean-as world of tough guys.

Instead Kapisi has hit the slopes, mainly alone with his violinist and his ice throne, otherwise surrounded by fellow snowboarders. So what does this say? Is his message so powerful that it can travel from Central Otago skifields to the urban streets? Or has he come to the skifield to assert himself there, a message of warning to any wack MCs snowboarders? Or maybe he’s been exiled to the snow, driving away from the city by an MC with greater steez, leaving Kapisi to attempt to create a new life at Cardrona. I get the feeling it wouldn’t take much to be the best MC at a ski resort. But hey – only King Kapisi has a throne of ice. Super cool.

http://youtu.be/QqcxgnzsDeM

Director: King Kapisi
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… always willing and able.

Dean Chandler “Waiting”

After a previous attempt at the world of music with the duo Before Friday, Dean Chandler went solo and reached 42 in the charts with debut single “Waiting”. He has a light voice, like Robbie Williams on his more playful tracks.

The video was shot in Dean’s hometown of Wellington and we him Dean sitting at a bar. He’s sitting with a beer (label turned away from camera) and has something in front of him that might be a notebook, a fancy cocktail menu or maybe even the lyrics to the song.

Dean spends most of the video sitting at the bar, alone, earnestly singing to the camera. But this is cut with scenes of him walking the rainy city streets, being all moody. There’s no excuse for it, really. In reality, he can take advantage of Wellington’s excellent public transport system and catch a bus to somewhere warm and dry.

He’s shown walking outside the Wakefield Hotel in Maginnity Street. A friend once told me this is the only street in Wellington that doesn’t feel like “Wellington”. You can’t see the hills or the sea from there, and that’s probably why it’s a popular location for film shoots. Most of the other outdoor shots are like this – locations that look cool and urban and aren’t iconic Wellington scenes.

So basically Dean waits at this bar and sings “I’m sick of waiting”. And the “you” of the song never shows up so he leaves, and from there he wanders around in the rain.

It’s a nice, inoffensive song, but the video drags it down and makes it more of a bummer than it needs to be. Like, dude, go and buy that other girl in a bar a drink and stop being such a miserable c-word.

Best bit: the Elvis sneer, a little moment of freedom.

Director: Tim Groenendaal
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… the ice king cometh.

Betchadupa “Supa Day”

The more mature sounding Betchadupa have the second single off their second album “The Alphabetchadupa” and another video directed by Greg Page. It has a strong guitar pop sound with crunchy garage tones. I like a good crunchy garage.

The video sees the ‘Dupa performing in front of a wall painted in vertical green-grey stripes, looking like a depressed test pattern. There are points of brighter colour from the band – Liam’s maroon trousers, Matt’s red t-shirt, Chris’ red guitar, and the orange Orange amp. With the band neatly arranged along the stage and the camera mainly shooting straight on, it’s a very pleasing rock tableau.

As the band power through their pop pleaser, there’s plenty of rock posing. And this is where the video gets a little interesting. Suddenly part of the screen will freeze. Chris will strike a particularly epic rock pose and he’s paused like that, leaving the rest of the band to play on. I’m guessing the striped background was necessitated by the need to have places to disguise the border of the frozen video. Or Liam and Joe make epic leaps while Joe and Matt coolly play on.

Capturing a band’s live energy is something that Greg Page does really well, but there’s something missing here. Maybe it’s Betchadupa themselves. They seem to be playing their instruments with the energy and concentration of someone having a gym workout. That’s all good, but where is the fun?

Note: below is lower quality but embeddable version of the video, but for a higher quality version, visit Greg Page’s director portfolio at Fish ‘n’ Clips.

Best bit: the brief close-up of the Batman badge on Liam’s guitar strap.

Diretor: Greg Page
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… nursing a beer.

Anika Moa “Good In My Head”

The video sets the scene in ordinary New Zealand. A car rolls down a leafy street, the wind blows a suburban washingline, a seagull squawks, and sheep nibble pasture. Despite the international cliches, you don’t normally see sheep in New Zealand music videos.

And we also meet Anika walking past a wall with an elaborate graffiti mural. She’s wearing a beige duffle coat over a red t-shirt, and as the scene changes (to the rural setting, to the beach) she wears the same clothes, eventually ditching the jacket on the sunny beach.

There’s clever editing between the different locations. A sip from a water bottle carries from suburbia to the West Lynn shops to the beach; a kicked can transforms into a kick into the sandy beach.

And with the exception of the few people seen in the background down at the shops, other people don’t feature in the video. This is a world where Anika Moa is the lone inhabitant.

It’s not a particularly high-concept video, and mainly seems to serve as a pleasant setting to showcase the song. It’s attractive, it’s scenic and works nicely with the song.

Best bit: the busy postie seen reflected in a shop window.

Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Director: Justin Pemberton

Next… freeze frame.

The D4 “Exit to the City”

Putting a band in a car is a pretty ordinary music video trick, but with “Exit to the City”, Greg Page takes things to a whole nother level, mercilessly shoving the D4 into the back of a van.

For a start there’s no green screen or trailer involved. It’s a real van driving through the streets of Auckland. And there’s no attempt to romanticise it as a road trip. There’s the band hunched over in the van, attempting to play the song while they’re hurled about as the vans takes corners. The outside – fairly ordinary looking streets of suburban Auckland – passively passes by the background windscreen.

The van is covered with egg cartons, presumedly to offer a bit of padding as the group is bumped around. But the pulpy protection starts to fall off, with large bits of the van’s bare metal interior exposed in some shots. This band suffers for their art.

The video is amusing, but it never goes for gags, rather letting the focus be the physical comedy of a band desperately trying to stay upright and rock out in a moving vehicle.

As well as the driver and the band, Greg Page is the sixth person in the band, crouched down below the camera, with his hand popping up to adjust a rogue microphone stand, hold up a pedal and finish with an “APPLAUSE” sign. I’m going to randomly declare this to be the most legendary of Greg Page’s videos.

Best bit: the disappearing and reappearing album cover.

Director: Greg Page
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… a space odyssey.

The Black Seeds “Hey Son”

Wellington’s finest purveyors of barbecue reggae have the first of their many NZOA-funded videos, after debuting with the self-funded “Keep on Pushing“. “Hey Son” is a fun one, of the “dressing up in crazy costumes and doing crazy things” type that Blerta pioneered back in the 1970s, or like an above-average 48Hours entry.

So, the Black Seeds have been charged with the offence of “civil unobedience” and have gone down to the office of The Man to sort out this problem. Only the long queues and unhelpful staff mean the only way things will get sorted is with a little comedic violence.

There’s running, jumping, firing soda cans from a vending machine, and use of a rubber stamp as a weapon. There’s also proper martial arts and the use of staple guns like pistols. And amid all this chaos, band member and future Grammy winner Bret McKenzie has a FIGWIT moment as a long-haired fellow in a Michael Jackson-style military jacket.

Meanwhile, Barnaby Weir has gone from smashing up a computer monitor to getting the band to smash up the mainframe. It’s not quite as epic as Dave killing HAL in “2001”, but it’s a lot more entertaining.

Back in the main office, a tardy courier has finally turned up with an official letter cancelling the infringement notice. “We hope this reaches you before you do anything drastic,” it says. I can’t help wonder if this crazy-arse bureaucracy actually wanted the Black Seeds to come and smash up its stuff.

While their later videos were more straight-up music videos, it’s cool to have this goofy adventure as the introduction to the Seeds.

Best bit: the furious rubber-stamp action – DENIED!

Director: James Barr
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… a man with a van and a plan.

519 ways to love you

Subware are starting with the computer-animated man in the mirror

TrueBliss don't give a damn what the haters say — TrueBliss don’t give a damn what the haters say

Stayfree Carefree target the all-important crustacean/bogan crossover demographic

It’s the second anniversary of 5000 Ways to Love You, which is a good a time as any to celebrate and look back at all the videos I’ve been watching. So that’s 519 down (though that is a bit of a back-of-an-envelope calculation) and almost 2000 to go. Crikey.

A year ago, I was entering the dawning of the age of the Feelers, those years in the early ’90s where New Zealand pop-rock bands did rather well. There was also Zed and the trio of female-fronted bands, Stellar, Fur Patrol and Tadpole. All of these groups made their mark with their music videos. It’s wasn’t just enough to stick the band in an interesting place and command them to rock out; videos had to do something.

And heading into the new millennium, it’s obvious that there’s a change in the technology behind music video as camera and editing equipment got cheaper and more digital. The low-budget videos start to look slicker, and the medium budget videos look really slick. The more prolific music video directors started to become well known for their work.

As always, trends come and go, like that period when videos had artistic and/or comedy subtitles. It’s proof that New Zealand isn’t an isolated island; that international trends in music video making are felt here too. Or when indie bands started doing ironic formation dancing (well before genuine pop acts did it sincerely).

But what really makes this project all worth while is the input from other people. Comments from music fans, people in bands, video makers and others with stories to tell; the awesome team at NZ On Screen sourcing those great old videos; and the great people who have gone to the effort of putting old videos online, particularly Peter McLennan and John from SANZ. And a kia ora to NZ On Air and Audio Culture, the very enjoyable new website about New Zealand music history.

And so to the early years of the ’00s, just coming up to Shihad’s Pacifier years and the eve of NZ Idol. It all feels a bit awkward looking back from 2013, but that’s all part of the journey.

— Robyn

Tadpole “Condition Chronic”

“Condition Chronic” was the third single from Tadpole’s second album, an ode to the pain of unrequited love. The video is directed by Wade Shotter, and like his earlier Tadpole video “Better Days”, this one is also based on animation, but the band make a real-life appearance too.

The video is set in a stylish snow-covered forest. Renee is alone in this forest, with a fur stole to keep her warm in the chilly environment. (Though evidently not cold enough to warrant covering her shoulders.) Beneath her wintry wrap, her heart is full of love.

Through the forest we also find Tadpole rocking out. They’re shot in silhouette, black shapes against an orange sky. It’s all about the hair, with dreadlocks, spikes and a mighty clip-on ponytail all getting a workout against the fuzzy sunset.

Nothing much happens in the video. The big climax involves Renee’s heart animation getting pierced with an arrow and bleeding because love hurts. Otherwise it’s a slow, moody video that works with the tone of the song.

The song is ok but doesn’t seem like a good choice for a single, particularly when the frequently repeated chorus lyric “I’m enamoured of you” always sounds like “I’m a man with a view”.

Best bit: Renee’s ponytail power flicking.

Director: Wade Shotter
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… taking a stand.

Stellar “Taken”

This video never quite felt like it did the song justice. “Taken” is a cool, sophisticated and very romantic number, but the video feels like it’s gone for laughs and blokey-sexy instead.

The video opens with Boh Runga cruising down the green-screen motorway, flirting with a couple of unremarkable guys who drive past. Boh makes a pit stop and has her vintage car serviced by the rest of the band who bumble around. Then Boh does some more hooning, proving she’s an independent woman because she drives her own car.

Then we see her driving through a bush-flanked road, standing up in the car and wearing what looks to be a blue bedsheet upcycled into a top. No one is driving the car (because it is on a trailer), but there’s no attempt to explain why this is. Maybe Boh is such an independent woman she can make her car drive itself.

She pulls over and the band are there again to polish her car. The motorway men appear and Boh stands seductively with her bedsheet top. But the blokes aren’t interested in her. They just want the car and are more interested in her petrolhead bandmates.

It all annoys me. It’s like the video is too scared to deal with the emotional sentiment of the song and so has just gone for the great music video cop-out of putting the band in a car. But then the song reached a very respectable #6 in the charts, so perhaps the video did a perfectly good job of promoting the song.

Best bit: Boh puts on her driving gloves while hooning down the motorway.

Next… the forest of unrequited love.