Robyn – Page 49 – 5000 Ways to Love You

Mightyscoop “Stay Awake”

“Are they singing about speed,” wonders YouTube uploader Haurang1. And it’s not hard to come to that conclusion, with both the song and video seemingly about the crazy-arse world of amphetamines. Oh, like a down-under version of “Semi-Charmed Life”.

The video follows the adventures of “Lars”, a bearded guy who is the group’s roadie. He’s very energetic and spends most of the time hanging out at a bar. Crawling on a pool table, talking the ear off whoever will listen and humping the bar. Ok, so this is a song about speed.

We also see the band playing in a bright white studio, and their performance has the same maniacal energy. Actually, only half the band (the two singer/guitarists) have that energy. The drummer and keyboardist are both sedately playing away in the background, doing what it says on their job description.

The trouble with the video is no one really comes across as very likeable. Lars is a dick and the band seems like some dudes who think they’re far more charming than they actually are. If the song was good, all this would be forgiven, but it’s really ordinary with a boring tacked-on synth line. It all ends up functioning as a cautionary tale against the perils of stimulant abuse.

Best bit: Lars’ thick beard, alarming by even today’s beardiness standards.

Katchafire “Giddy Up”

Oh, Katchafire. Previously the only Hamilton bands that had made a national impact were bogan rockers like Knightshade and Blackjack. But along came Katchafire, a roots reggae band who not only had three top-10 singles but had 18 NZ On Air-funded music video. And this is a band who has survived despite line-up changes due to what its Wikipedia entry describes as “commitments with other bands, family and religion”.

The “Giddy Up” video begins with a manifesto of sorts. They are here to bring messages of “peace and love and purity”. And that’s musical purity. “We got no DJs, no samplers. We just got some pure musicians on stage, people.” Are they talking about technology – if so, why do they not have an issue with using electric amplification? Or is it some sort of moral purity of the musicians themselves? If so, dicks.

Combined with visuals of bikers arriving at a concert, it all comes across as macho posturing. So then it’s a big surprise when the song itself starts and it’s a sweet, romantic reggae number.

There’s a bit of Katachafire performing at this concert of purity, but most of it is the band playing in a smaller room, surrounded by friends. And that comes across as a lot more enjoyable and friendly.

The song is also notable for its saxophone solo. These were a staple of pop in the ’90s, but had well died out by the ’90s. It’s like Katchafire had a saxophonist and they wanted to put a sax solo in the video and cool kids be damned. And, well, the song made it to number four in the charts.

That’s where the strength of this video seems to lie. Katchafire have this song that people love and they have their band identity and they’re absolutely sticking to that, keeping it pure. Whatever their definition of purity is.

Best bit: the giant Bob Marley poster looking down over them all.

Director: Greg Riwai
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Gramsci “This Ain’t a Love Song”

“This ain’t a love song,” snarls Paul from Gramsci, and indeed this ain’t a love song music video. It’s stark and monochromatic black figures on a white background, as the band play the song, slowed down to give it a dreamy feeling. Or as the description on MySpace helpfully explains, “drifty floaty black and white silhouettes overlaid intermingly splace”. Ok.

The video begins with a band member rolling a cigarette and lighting up, and we see him smoking it throughout. While cigarettes in music videos were a fairly common thing in the ’90s, by the 2000s it was less common, and the Smoke-free Environments Act amendment wasn’t far off, killing smoking at indoor music venues.

So it got me thinking. What if “This Ain’t a Love Song” is about giving up tobacco? What if it’s a bittersweet kiss-off to the difficult life of smoking. And it kind of fits, there with both the song and video casually passing as a typical relationship song.

The video finishes with the cigarette being stubbed out, and the guy who does it seems really relieved, like he’s stubbing out all the drama and emotion contained in the song. Well, that’s my theory. Because if it’s only a song and a video about a relationship, it’s kinda dull.

Best bit: the look of intense concentration when rolling the ciggie.

Note: This video was previously available on MySpace, but not anymore.

Next… an equine command.

Ben King “No Ordinary Day”

Ben King was otherwise known as the guitarist in Goldenhorse, but he had some songs that he needed to get out there, so he went off on a little side project which resulted in a self-titled solo album.

“No Ordinary Day” was the single, a sweet pop song, but this wasn’t its original music video. The first version featured Ben jumping on a trampoline. (You can see excerpts of it in this Nightline interview.) Up and down and up and down. It joined Pavement’s original “Rattled by the Rush” video on the list of music videos that can cause motion sickness. So it’s not surprising that the NZOA-funded version is a lot more relaxed and still.

“No Ordinary Day” superimposes Ben on vintage photos of Auckland. So there he is, in black and white, wandering across Wellesley Street with a pedestrians casually in the middle of the road and trams rolling along their route, motorcars nowhere to be seen. The only recognisible building is the Auckland Art Gallery, back when it also housed the city library and municipal offices. Even the familiar Civic theatre corner is yet to acquire its landmark.

Ben is the only thing that moves in these scenes, as if he’s discovered the secret of time travel, but can only ever explore a fixed moment in time. Like a rubbish Doctor Who episode.

The idea of Ben King wandering around old photos never seems to go anywhere. There doesn’t seem to be any point to it, other than it being provided as an example of something that can happen on a day that is not ordinary.

It seems like so much effort has been put into making a video that doesn’t move around all the time, that the end result is a video that doesn’t really go anywhere.

Best bit: the baby’s pram in mid-push across Wellesley Street.

Director: Marek Sumich
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… the story of a rollie.

Igelese “Groovalation”

A YouTube commenter sums up the impact of this video thusly: “it was hits like this that actually triggered off and established the Pacifica brand, thus Aotearoa actually taking into consideration what the islands had to offer in terms of creative arts and music”. And there’s something to be said for a video that is full of bold, fresh young Polynesian culture.

“Groovalation” is an upbeat track, merging traditional Polynesian music styles with contemporary hip hop, pop and R&B and multi-lingual lyrics. It’s a bit of everything and could only come from New Zealand.

Igelese Ete worked hard to get the video funded. As Dub Dot Dash notes, the initially labelless song was turned down three times for video funding before indie label Papa Pacific finally came along.

The video takes a similar form, using scenes of traditional Polynesian performers, mixed with the contemporary performers. The more traditional bits of the video are shot in sepiatone, giving it a bit of reverential distance. Whereas the big joyful crowd singalong (and shoutalong sometimes) is filmed in colour, which is just as well considering the bright palette of the lavalava, suits and and sportswear the large group is wearing.

The video gets away with things that might not work in another situation. While the group bust out a multi-lingual rap in the middle of the song, the video alternates between footage of the rapping and footage of an older man in tradition dress who appears to be chanting something unrelated to the song. While this song helped pave the way for contemporary Pacific culture in New Zealand, it is very much aware of those who came before them.

Best bit: the slightly out-of-place “Ski Colorado” sweatshirt.

Directors: Simon Baumfield, Makerita Urale
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… time travel.

Otara Phil Harmonic “Drummer Boy”

This is an interesting one. The Otara Phil Harmonic was a Phil Fuemana project, with vocals by Johnny Sagala and Ermehn, and Lole singing the chorus. This song might not actually have had NZ On Air funding. But the one thing I do know is that on Christmas Day 1994, “Drummer Boy” was at number 40 in the charts, before quietly slipping away into the silly season. But then they were up against Purest Form’s yuletide power ballad.

While the song is very loosely based around the classic Christmas song “The Little Drummer Boy”, it’s not an overtly Christmas song. It has rapped verses with Lole singing about her “drummer boy” in the chorus. It’s very reminiscent of DJ Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince’s 1991 hit “Summertime” but with a random Christmas theme. But maybe that’s the problem. It’s too Christmassy to appeal as a regular hip hop track, but not Christmassy enough to become a yuletide classic.

The video is shot around South Auckland. It looks pretty low budget (which would suggest it’s not NZOA funded, but I’ve seen cheaper looking videos made with funding) but the quality of shots varies. Lole is filmed dressed like an office worker, sitting in a chair that looks like office reception seating. It’s like they popped in during her lunch break and filmed the chorus.

The rapped bits are done outside, around the back of some shops and it looks good. It’s the delicate balance of picking a location that looks edgy enough to work in a music video, but still looks like New Zealand.

But the best thing is the dancers. I like dancing in a music video. There’s not a lot of it, probably because it’s quite complicated to arrange and film, but this video gets it. A group of dancers break out some slow-mo moves, filmed in front of colourful roller doors as the golden-hour light makes everything look amazing.

Best bit: all the rappers sensibly wear sunglasses as they’re facing the bright sunshine.

Next… all the groove of the Pacific.

Love Soup “You”

Well, this is an interesting video. Love Soup was Bic Runga’s high school band, a duo with Kelly Horgan, later of the Heavy Jones Trio. The Cashmere High pair came in third place in the 1993 Smokefreerockquest and part of the prize was a single and video to be released through Pagan Records. Only at around the same time, Sony had began to take an interest in Bic, signed her and bought her recordings from Pagan.

This left the tricky question of what to do with the “You” video. It had been funded and produced and therefore had to be broadcast. This was the old Bic and it wasn’t what she or Sony wanted to present as her New Zealand debut. So in order to tick the boxes, the video screened once, on a lazy afternoon, as a between-programme filler. No one noticed. But when it came time for Bic to properly launch her solo career later in 1995, plenty of people noticed.

The video itself focuses solely on Bic. Kelly doesn’t feature in the video at all, other than his guitar playing on the track. Bic dances around an empty house and on a rocky beach, while wearing long dresses and a garland of flowers. It’s different from the more stylish urban look she took for her solo videos. Because of this, while it’s a great song and Bic is already a skilled performer, it doesn’t quite feel like Bic Runga.

Bic is sometimes joined by a spooky figure, like a CGI shop mannequin. This CGI creature manages to make the video feel really weird. It ends with the figure attached to a wooden frame, in a crucifixion-like pose, floating off into the sky. This might actually be the most unsettling scene I’ve seen in all these videos.

The “You” video is an interesting glimpse into the early days of Bic Runga’s career. And it makes me glad that Sony were prepared to put a bit more money into her later videos.

Best bit: the weird winged creature that swoops past Bic as she emotes on the rocky shore.

Bonus: Watch the 1993 Canterbury final of the Smokefreerockquest. Love Soup start at 5:45.

Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… some yuletide beats.

Cosa “Still Water”

Cosa (formerly Cosa Nostra) was a project by producer Trevor Reekie of Pagan Records. “Still Water” is an atmospheric track with a some trip hop and dub styles.

The video was directed by Mark Tierney and has a slight sci-fi flavour to it, a bit like the dream worlds of “Inception”. On a deserted grassy hill, Trevor is beckoned by a curious Asian man who takes him to a relaxing day spa. Though being a slightly weird music video, this ain’t no ordinary relaxing day spa.

Trevor lies down and is pampered by a number of Asian women. Their benevolent stroking seems to take him into a room where some cool people are partying. Is it real? Well, is the relaxing day spa real? Is the Asian man real? It’s all getting pretty Matrix.

Lava lamps blob, parasols spin, bubbles are blown, belly dancers shimmy, fire poi are twirled and the partygoers laze around in a haze. It’s like everyone in the room took too many Neurofen Plus, except for the one guy who’s dancing. Yeah, there’s always the one guy who’s dancing.

But obviously this bliss can’t last. The Asian man appears again, which seems to signal the end of this trip. Trevor wakes up, finding himself next to the reflecting pond at Savage Memorial. It could be considered inappropriate shoot a music video at a mausoleum, but the dreamlike location of the memorial somehow fits with the fantasy/reality theme of the music video. And, well, you wouldn’t get that sort of experience at the Massey Memorial.

Best bit: the partygoer with pixie/Spock ears.

Director: Mark Tierney
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… a secret debut.

The Brainchilds “Thinking About You”

At first “Thinking About You” seems like a wistful song from someone getting in touch with a long-lost love. There’s a Front Lawn-style quirkiness to the song but it initially seems rather restrained.

We find the Brainchilds playing their song on a beach. It’s a rough New Zealand beach, but everyone seems quite cheerful, so yay. This is cut with footage of and elderly woman writing notes on pieces of paper cut from the margins of newspaper pages. She’s filling up an envelope with these notes, which seem to contain the song lyrics.

This is a very intriguing start, but when the chorus comes along, the video loses steam. The Brainchilds just seem really dull performing on the beach and even the old lady can’t spice things up.

But very slowly things get weird. The old lady isn’t just stuffing the envelope with the notes; there’s hair in there too. And she feeds her cat an entire can of budget jellymeat. Lucky cat?

Back on the beach, as the song intensifies and gets more manic, the Brainchilds are slowly being swallowed up by the sand. The old lady has a mad glint in her eye.

The video was directed by Grant Lahood, who at the time was riding high on a series of three popular short films full of a similar kind of offbeat humour. So it’s a pleasant surprise to discover that he also got to have a go with a music video.

Best bit: the old lady’s lawn water bottle, back when it was thought those scared off pooing dogs.

Director: Grant Lahood
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… a massage with extras.

Matty J feat. Dei Hamo “Somewhere You’re There”

The first few seconds of this song seem quite sedate. There’s Marry J doing his soul crooning and it’s all very sweet when suddenly – bam! – here’s Dei Hamo with some rap to make things a lot more interesting.

Dei Hamo is filmed in black and white, with the lyrics of his rhymes jumping around behind him, like a YouTube lyric video. This tantalising and explosive intro is over quickly, and we return to Matty J, walking along a city street.

The camera always films him walking left to right, and we also see split screen shots of different angles of him. I know what’s trying to be achieved here (the spilt screen style was very cool in the mid-’90s) but it seems a bit awkward here. It has been done with some really horrible looking bevelling effects, like the sort of stuff that showed up in webpage design in the mid-’90s. Was there a point where this style was cool? Maybe.

Dei Hamo bursts in again, introduced by Matty J as “the Madd Coconut”. And then Matty J continues on his journey, walking through cityscapes in bold colours, particularly purples and blues. Finally Matty J’s journey ends with him walking right up to his sweetie, but the video abruptly ends before there can be any grand reunion. (This might just be the version that’s online.)

It feels like there are some really good ideas behind this video, but not everything manages to work.

Best bit: Matty J’s simultaneous look of loved-up and cool.

Director: Craig Jackson
Ngā Taonga Sound & Vision

Next… lying in the sand.