Music: The Donnie Simpson Chronicles, Volume 1
Often when I listen to songs, I get the idea for how the music video should go. In many cases, I haven’t seen the actual video, partially because I don’t get time to sit up watching music videos (I can listen to songs while I work) and partially because I started avoiding most videos back when I was reviewing music, feeling that they colored the way I did reviews (i.e. “thinking Will Smith’s ‘Men In Black’ was less awful after I saw choreoanimated aliens”). Some of my ideas are hopelessly enmeshed in metatextuality, some are simple and direct. All of them stick in my head, whether I see the real video or not.
I am unlikely to direct music videos, partially because I’m an antisocial son of a bitch who eschews collaborative creative efforts unless it really seems like it’s going to work and partially because it’s an industry I don’t want to be in. I’d only ever wanna direct videos for songs that fascinated me … unless it was worth a Brinks truck fulla money, in which case I’d come up with something even if it was for Gucci Mane (and that was our obligatory nod to Rumond Taylor — any mention of Keyshia Cole, the Memphis Grizzlies or Gucci Mane makes his blogger-senses tingle somewhere in the world). Yet these ideas persist, popping into my mind whenever songs play. Now you can be tortured with them as well. Here’s the first three, a mix of alt-rock weirdness and the moodiness that could only have happened with Ronald Reagan’s shadow cast across the globe …
“Every Breath You Take” by The Police: Of course I’ve seen the haunting original, but it was very abstract. Here, I propose getting super literal while incorporating the paranoia of a post-Patriot Act world. Take Gene Hackman’s signal-safe Faraday cage from Enemy of The State and put Sting — stringy hair, absently chewing on beef jerky, looking disheveled — staring into a series of screens, showing the girl in question out living life and being happy. He has cameras everywhere, and the scenes switch to show her making breakfast, but the viewer can make out the lens hidden in her clock. She’s walking happily along a busy street, dressed in a business outfit and carrying a briefcase, while he walks several yards back, eating an apple while wearing a black trenchcoat, collar turned up, glowering as he sings. Lots of close ups of his face, illuminated by the screen, as he sings passionately to her. In the surroundings are brightly lit, daytime photos of the two of them frolicking in an apple orchard they once owned together.
Back when he was hungry for the music
At the finale, where he repeatedly sings, “I’ll be watching you,” starts off with Trenchcoat Sting, looking disgustedly at the apple before tossing it aside, and walking away from the camera in a shrinking perspective shot. Every time he says “I’ll be watching you,” he turns back and looks menacingly at the camera as he does it. As well, with each turn, another opaqued video screen pops into view at a slanted angle, showing her living a life with no thought of him. The juxtaposition is that she’s living life and he’s merely observing it. It’s a tragedy, you see.
“Allison” by Elvis Costello: This is a variant on my “Every Breath You Take” idea. Costello, essentially, is a mix between the Unabomber and John Allen Muhammad, and whatever poor girl is cast opposite him goes from being his ex to a subject of stalking to a victim of violent crime. At the end of the first verse, he awkwardly bumps into her in a coffeeshop and she snubs him, which leads him to start following and surveilling her, complete with hidden and parabolic microphones, parking in a car outside her house at night and what not. When he sings “my aim is true” the first time, he’ll be shown buying a hunting rifle. During the end, when he sings the same line over and over, you’ll see him aiming the rifle at the viewer, with her image reflected in the scope, her heart in the crosshairs as she sits laughing with her new husband and family.
Imagine the guitar is a sniper rifle
Sorry, this kind of tragic tune appealed to me at one point. Moving on …
“Spaceman” by The Killers: The lead singer (his name might be Brandon Flowers, I think) is shown, asleep in a bed, as behind him it looks like the bed is being secretly moved and strapped to something. As the music swells, he starts to wake, and the first vocals hit when he fully awakens, realized he and his bed have been strapped to a literal roller coaster. By the time he sings “ripped me from my bed” there’s a series of men in clean suits, pulling him off and strapping him into a chair. They mock putting a huge syringe into his forehead and withdrawing blood, which leaves a ring like they pressed too hard. The chair falls back when he sings “scar-crossed world behind,” and the clean suit guys move in with scalpels and a chest spreader when he sings “they cut me open.” The video quickly morphs into him shaking his head and the camera pulls back to find him standing, in pajamas, at a carnival before he starts the chorus.
It's all in your mind ...
Now, there’s some disagreement between lyrics sites as to what’s being said in the chorus, but I heard the first line as “The storm maker said ‘it ain’t so bad.’” To whit, I had the idea that during each chorus, a different “storm maker,” a different “dream maker” and a different “spaceman.” Also coincidentally, when each “spaceman” says “everybody look down,” they’ll point upwards. First up? Al Roker (pats on the shoulder and reassures), Ed McMahon (slaps him in the face — it’s my vision, I can do it anyway I want, forget who’s dead) and Buzz Aldrin. Second? Willard Scott, Simon Cowell and Mark Hamill in Luke Skywalker gear. Third? Chris Hemsworth in full Thor regalia (taking the “storm maker” idea way farther), Regis Philbin (from his Millionaire turn, slapping him and then backhanding him before walking away laughing) and finally Jason O’Mara in full seventies-tastic Detective Sam Tyler gear (with Michael Imperioli, Gretchen Mol and Harvey Keitel alongside), who pats the confused singer on the shoulder and is encouraging before walking away (a play on “It’s all in your mind,” from the Life on Mars weirdo finale).
Spaceman
Back to the verses, the second verse finds him back in a normal living room, plopped in a brown cloth recliner, still in pajamas. He gets up, singing, walking around confused (mark still on forehead). By the time he gets to “the devil and the deep blue sea” he should be standing between a grinning Ray Wise in a suit (an homage to Reaper) and Adrian Grenier dressed up as Aquaman (an homage to the joke from Entourage). When he sings about the leap, he jumps and lands in another scene, back at the carnival. Words on screen for “those voices at night sometimes.”
During the bridge, he’s in a bumber car with a GPS sticking up. He taps on it but it won’t work until he sings. The screen on it shows an African map, with the Nile River running west towards Tunisia and “Former State” text flashing.
At end of video, he wakes up, normal, in bed from start of the video and whacks an alarm clock, looking around confusedly. Bobby Ewing steps out of the shower and asks him what’s wrong.
Too much? I can never tell. Feel free to treasure or trash these ideas in the comments (available at the main blog for all of you reading this via RSS or Facebook).
Playing (Music): “Let Me Kiss You” by Morrissey
[...] the last time I did this, it went a little something like this [...]