We start out with the band members hanging out in a fake bachelor pad, trying to figure out how they should do the video for this song. (That’s not a very good sign, considering we’re already watching it.) Of course, first they have to harmonize for a little bit, so these guys obviously get distracted quite easily. Then we focus on one of the band members as he daydreams about what HE would do with the video.
Well, his vision is all about the band being filmed in washed-out black and white while they flit around in front of a full-color background. This is initially boring, even with Mark McGrath proving that he still looks hot even when all the color has been drained from his body. Things pick up a little bit when a parade of lovelies wearing tiny bits of clothing come marching in with video cameras, taking shots that require them to sprawl about lustily on the floor.
Then the dreaming band member leaps up from his drums and starts shoving the other members around and kicking down the walls of the set. No explanation is given, so we’ll assume that the drummer has severe personal issues that need to be worked out. Just not right now. It’s all fairly stupid, so luckily for us they switch to one of the guitar player’s fantasies about the perfect video shoot.
This involves the band bouncing around in what might be a punk bar, with Mark contributing to the theme by going shirtless. It’s all about leather jackets, necklaces made out of chains, probable drug use, and people with those super-spiked hairdos that look like porcupines on acid. (Never, ever understood that whole trend.)
Of course, they also do the requisite mosh pit thing, with the guitar player landing exactly in the midst of sex-drenched women wearing bras and panties. These apparently very strong women then carry the guitar player over their heads while he has multiple orgasms. We end this bit with Mark confirming to us that he has an amazing number of tattoos. (One of them looks like a map of the Paris subway system, but I may be mistaken.)
Next up is a band member who envisions a gangsta take on things, with the band decked out in pimp-ghetto gear, complete with that modified Aunt Jemima doo-rag thing going on. They’re in a stripper bar somewhere, with the band member throwing cash around like he’s run out of places to keep it all. Then we spend an inordinate amount of time watching the stripper girls prove that they apparently don’t have any bones in their body, whirling around the poles with contortionistic glee.
This goes on forever. I guess Sugar Ray had a T&A clause in their contract regarding the amount of time that must be spent on airborne breasts and crotches.
Eventually we’ve had ample to time to study every last stripper snapper in the entire place, and we move on to another band member’s fantasy. This guy apparently wants nothing more than to put on an ugly, skin-tight yellow outfit and then try to street-fight a man about twice his size. This makes no sense. Even the rest of the band members, wearing unexplained matching Asian couture, seem bored out of their skulls, simply waiting for the next dream to start. (Mark tries to liven things up by doing something with an apple, but it’s too little, too late.)
Speaking of Mark, his fantasy involves the band doing a Duran Duran tribute, complete with eye makeup and aggressive hair. It’s all mid-80’s craziness, including tucked-in ties, self-important poses, and cryptic hand gestures that are really only cool if you’re stoned. It’s really kind of funny in a “wow, people sure were messed up back then” kind of way.
Suddenly Mark stops all the shenanigans. “Dude, let’s just do what’s right for the song.”
So now we’re watching mixed shots of the band members riding Vespas (how is THAT right for the song?) and the band frolicking on the beach with hundreds of their closest friends. It’s one big party as people do all of those things you do when you’ve had too many adult beverages and you’re not wearing any shoes. Bouncing, high-fiving, breast-jiggling, alcohol-impaired thong adjustments and complete strangers doing The Bump with total abandon. It’s all there.
The song ends with the band members driving those very-masculine Vespas into the sunset. Here’s hoping that none of them ever dream again…
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