Chris Brown, Tyga, Kevin McCall - “Deuces”

  Well, the first scene has some big-ass titles informing us that “Collin Tilley Presents”, like this is going to be some fancy foreign movie where bitchy people make each other suffer about past indiscretions. But we know that’s not the case, because it’s a 4-minute music video, with guest rap stars, so there’s not going to be any intricate story or clever dialogue. Then we see Chris Brown’s name in even bigger-ass letters, and I get it. He wants us to think of him as an artist and not as someone who would get angry at Rihanna for changing her hair color yet another time.

  We’ll see.

  While the credits are still rolling (yes, there are more of them), we are shown three important plot points. One is that there is a woman walking along in one of those concrete waterway things, like where they did the car race in “Grease”. (I’m fully expecting Rizzo to walk in front of the camera, babbling about a defective typewriter.) She looks sad and is walking very slowly, so maybe she needs to speak to her doctor about her mood stabilizers. Other than that, we don’t know much about her, except that she’s wearing a flimsy shirt that is kind of pointless. We can already clearly see what she has to offer.

  We also have three guys (I’m assuming this would be Chris, Tyga and Kevin) hanging out all street-like. We can’t tell if they’re also sad, or if they’re just bored, but all of them are staring at the ground like they just learned that they didn’t get any Grammy nominations this year. The final plotline centers around just Chris. He’s standing on the sloping wall of the concrete gulch and practicing “Karate Kid” moves.

  Chris starts with the singing, sitting on a car and doing hand movements that remind me of my scary fourth-grade music teacher that always smelled like old baby powder. But he’s also singing in between high-kicks on the sloping wall, and the Sad Woman is still walking slowly. We start cutting between the three so we can understand that everybody is still doing what they’re supposed to do, and we shouldn’t get anxious about that.

  Sudden close-up shot of Sad Woman’s eyes, then another shot of her smelling her hair. Maybe her sadness is coming from the fact that her apricot shampoo didn’t deliver on its promise to smell fruity and fresh. Then she turns and looks behind her, concerned about something, which is kind of confusing. If she’s trying to get away from somebody, shouldn’t she be running instead of just shuffling along and wondering where Olivia Newton-John was sitting during the car race?

  Back to Chris and his boys, where we learn that every time somebody sings “deuces” in the song, they all hold two fingers up to the sky. Well, that’s really original. Was somebody actually paid to come up with that?

  Oh look, now Chris is by himself in some tunnel, with the bright sky at the other end of the tunnel making a cute little box around Chris so that he appears in silhouette. He starts doing more of the odd poses, like he’s training for a Lady Gaga cover shoot.

  And we go like this for a while, cutting between the guys sitting on the car, waiting for anything at all to happen in their lives, Chris in the tunnel channeling Liza Minnelli, and Sad Woman trudging through the gulch, not really getting anywhere. (Why does she insist on walking right where the thin layer of water is flowing, instead of on the 97% of the concrete that is DRY. Does she think there’s a prize at the end of this trail? Poor thing.)

  It’s time for Tyga to do his solo, and he’s conveniently moved to another location so we can understand that someone else is singing now. He’s sitting on one of those concrete support beams, and he also likes to move his hands. This time I’m reminded of my Grandpa who would make those same motions before he lost his Italian temper and the Thanksgiving turkey would go flying throw the air, leaving a trail of cornbread stuffing as everybody dove under the table. Again.

  Wow, Tyga sure has a long solo. (We get shots of Chris standing off in the background, reminding us that this is HIS video, people, don’t forget it. We also get more clips of Sad Woman on her mysterious journey, but I’m starting to not care if she ever gets where she’s going.)

  Well, it seems we have a new development, as we start seeing snippets of the three guys walking down an alley while some hoopty car is bouncing along behind them. The boys seem to be having a lot more fun with this bit, strutting along, waving their arms, and grabbing their crotches. In fact, they almost crack a smile, which is forbidden if you want to retain your street cred, so we’re in dangerous territory here.

  Tyga finally finishes up, and the film editor really ramps up the jump-cutting. We’re leaping all over the place in a frenzy, with the jumping only slowing down when Sad Woman’s breasts are in attendance. (And with the way Chris is bouncing off the walls in the tunnel, it’s safe to assume that he had Mexican for lunch, with extra jalapeños. What else would make a grown man jump in the air and do the splits like that?)

  And here comes Kevin with his guest rap, and he’s really invested in that “holding up two fingers” thing, doing this at least 400 times during his cameo, shoving his fingers at us like one of the Three Stooges got lost in the San Fernando Valley. He seems to be really angry. Maybe because a certain woman’s appendages are getting more screen time than he is? And she’s not even singing. Or sure of where she’s at.

  Shot of Sad Woman just standing there in the gulch, not even moving at all. (Well, to be fair, silicone never really stops moving, but that’s a minor technicality. Wait, maybe that’s why she’s following the water. She sprung a leak and is trying to figure out where it happened.)

  Kevin goes on for a long time as well. In fact, between Kevin and Tyga, they’ve basically carried the whole song. Chris only warbled a few lines at the beginning, and then he ran off to play in that tunnel, whispering “deuces” in the background every once in a while. Maybe Chris just didn’t have enough time to learn all the lyrics, busy with that community service business like he was. Who knows.

  Whoops, I just lied. Chris comes back and bellows some more, as we see shots of him ripping off his shirt in the tunnel and apparently tearing the thing into rags. (Did he pick up some fashion tips from Rihanna?) I guess the shock of wind on his nipples has a strong effect on him, because he suddenly does a back flip for no other apparent reason.

  And that’s really it. As the song winds down, we jump-cut some more, with the guys and the gulch and the hoopty and Chris auditioning for Cirque du Soleil in that tunnel. Sadly, Woman With Breasts never makes it very far, still in the concrete riverbed, splashing endlessly along her trail of cosmetic tears and starting to lose her balance…


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Far East Movement - “Like a G6”

  And once again, I have no idea who this group might be. But they must have done something right because they’ve got a Top 10 hit and some buzz on the Internet. Let’s see what it’s all about, shall we?

  We start off with some girl waltzing into a minimalist restaurant of some kind. We know it’s minimalist because they have simple, abstract art on the walls and disco is not playing. She holds up her iPad to check her “To Do” list, and it has four pointless things listed. I’m already not really satisfied with this video. You need an iPad to make a list? You can’t write on the back of a bill envelope like any normal person?

  A subtitle informs us that it’s 8:00pm in Los Angeles. Oh, well that totally changes everything, and now I completely understand. (Not.) We watch as our heroine navigates the intricate hallways of the restaurant, her boobs so tightly winched into her dress that it’s got to be some type of major structural accomplishment. (We don’t know this woman’s name, so we’ll call her Nadine.)

  Nadine stomps into a private dining room, where there’s a happy ethnic mix of various people shoving food in their faces and, more importantly, knocking back what looks like sake. Some girl on the right proffers a shot of sake to Nadine, and she sucks it down like she’s trying to get a poppy seed out of her teeth. Then she marches away, with the courteous girl on the right following her out of the room. Nothing like getting free alcohol and a hot date within 20 seconds of entering a restaurant.

  We cut to more happy people wearing sunglasses at night and singing into the camera. For some reason, the director of this video found it necessary to create an image of Cheerios on the lenses of the glasses. I really don’t understand, and it’s very distracting. Then we see Nadine and her new partner (we’ll call her Bolivia) standing outside the restaurant, which is apparently Korean. Still with the not understanding.

  More shots of the Sunglass People gettin’ down wit the music and bopping about. Is this the Far East Movement? Wow. There sure are a lot of them. This is totally not going to work if they make it big and start making some serious money. They’re gonna have to trim things down, just like The Dreamgirls. Nadine and Bolivia jump into a really nice car that we know they can’t afford, so somebody’s sleeping with somebody else.

  Then we focus on just one of the bouncing Sunglass People, a guy who apparently has been given a solo in the song and likes to purse his lips, make street hand gestures, and mistakenly believes that the “ladies” can’t wait to jump into his bed. I don’t know where he went to school, but he took the wrong classes, because something is just not working out with that whole look.

  Nadine and Bolivia are now at a liquor store, wandering around the aisles in slight confusion. (We’ve all been in that predicament, where the sheer number of alcoholic options is overwhelming, especially if you’ve already had a nip or two on the car-ride over.) To help the girls make their selections, we are treated to several members of the Far East Movement rapping and shoving their faces at the camera. Here’s a tip, folks. If you want me to like your song, don’t shove your faces at the camera like you don't have any sense. Don't really care for that mess.

  While Nadine and Bolivia traipse about the store, laughing a lot and fondling bottles, we get to see some female member of the posse doing her own rap. She actually seems to have a decent voice, so I guess she’s the Diana Ross of the group, and will soon quit the band to start a solo career, leaving the rest of the band to eventually appear on the Biography channel in a documentary about drug abuse and bitterness.

  This girl (we’ll call her Copacabana) sings for a while, as we watch Nadine and Bolivia haul their purchases to the fancy car and start driving around the town. (Other members of the Far East Movement perform hand gestures and pretend to know how to dance, but I don’t care and I’m over them.) Even the director of the video knows he or she is dealing with some questionable talent, so they start blurring the video like it’s artsy instead of just boring.

  Nadine and Bolivia arrive at some building (with Nadine still waving around that stupid and pointless iPad), where you can only gain access by putting your hand on a scanner that reads your palm print. This is unsettling. Why would you want to go into a building like that? I wouldn’t. If you want to scan my skin topography, I’ll just go down to the corner bar where people don’t make you do this type of thing. Have these people not seen “Gattaca”?

  More shots of the male members of Far East Movement being obnoxious. More faces in the camera and irritating hand gestures. Seriously, that is SO annoying.

  The high-security door leads to a radio station (“CherryTree Radio”, subtly implying that these girls are somehow virgins, which is clearly not the case). I don’t know what’s happened to Nadine, because I don’t see her, but Bolivia is leading another girl with a skanky black halter-top into the studio. (It might be Nadine, but when did she have time to change clothes?)

  Some production assistant comes out to meet Bolivia and Whoever, and I immediately don’t trust this person because she has creepy blue highlights in her hair and has far too many colors involved in her eye-shadow. Then Nadine suddenly reappears, still wearing the too-tight red outfit from the beginning of the video, so I really don’t know who The Lady in Black might be.

  This doesn’t seem to be important, because we cut back to the massive Far East Movement, and the one girl who can actually sing has knocked everybody away and is rapping again. (Sadly, this doesn’t stop the male members of Far East from trying to jump in front of the cameras and commit to videotape the fact that they have no rhythm whatsoever.)

  Now we cut to some party somewhere else, where everybody seems really happy that Nadine, Bolivia and Mysterious Black Girl have arrived to work their groove thang. Oh wait, this appears to be the place where the entire, massive roster of the Far East Movement have been partying and wearing sunglasses, unaware that this video is not as hip and cool as they think it is.

  And THIS will really surprise you: the Far East Movement taunts everybody to “put yo hands up”, and everybody does, with the camera capturing this activity from various angles. Perhaps, in my lifetime, there will be a moratorium on drunken people in a bar putting their hands up. It’s just not very inspiring. Can we move on?

  But for now, much to my chagrin, all of these people are putting their hands up. This goes on forever. And yet record executives and music producers are totally stunned that CD sales are down. Hello? Who the hell approved this video? Or this song? Let’s start there.

  And finally we have the one decent vocalist back on the audio track, trying to salvage things, but the train has already wrecked. The director tries to save his career with some fancy editing, but at the end of the day, it’s just not very pretty.

  Speaking of day, it’s suddenly the next morning, and we have some slo-mo shots of the Far East Movement at an airport, marching toward a plane. Are they really going to unleash these people on the rest of the world?

  And more importantly…

  What the hell is a G6?


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Adam Lambert - “If I Had You”

  We start off with a nice thumping beat as Adam prances around in what might be his apartment or could be a sleep deprivation facility. It’s awfully dark and hard to tell what’s going on. What IS clear is that Adam is apparently shilling Sony products, because we have one front and center. Scrolling across the screen of this product placement is what appears to be encouraging words about a gig that Adam has tonight. All of his fans are convinced that the world is going to change as soon as Adam steps on stage.

  And it just might happen. If Adam hits enough high notes, buildings could crumble.

  Next thing we know, Adam is trudging down some dirt road in the forest. I’m really surprised that he’s doing this, because it can’t be good for all the makeup that we know he’s going to be wearing. Anyway, he marches toward us, really proud that he’s got his boots on and the “right amount of leather”. (What IS the right amount of leather? I’ve often wondered this. It keeps me awake at night.) He’s also “working my strut”, which kind of throws me. I just had one of those replaced on my car, and there certainly wasn’t any singing while that mess was going on. And we weren’t in a forest. That I recall. I’ll just let it go for now.

  Then the sky suddenly changes from late afternoon to full-on night, which means we’ve lost a few hours. (This happens all the time with rock stars, so don’t be scared.) We’re still in the forest, but now things have an odd greenish tint to them. It looks kind of outer-spacey (as opposed to Kevin-Spacey, because we all know he does his thing near parks and not forests). Perhaps E.T. will drive by on a bicycle, tossing about trial size packets of Reese’s Pieces.

  Adam is still trudging along, all glam, but we catch glimpses of other people darting through the trees, so he’s not alone. We don’t know if these people are his friends or they want to kill him, it’s not clear. Oh, and I think laser-like weapons are being fired, because green flashes shoot across the screen from time to time. Or maybe they’re just setting up Adam’s stage nearby and somebody is dicking around with the stage lighting.

  Anyway, Adam gets to a point in the forest where it’s really important that he scratch his back on a tree. This allows the other people to catch up with him, and since they all start dancing, I guess they weren’t seeking his death after all. But the dance is kind of sad, really, because it looks like nobody could afford a complete set of clothes, so they just made do with things they found by the side of the road.

  The music picks up, so the poor people dance faster, and Adam takes this as his cue to show us his profile bathed in the green light. There seems to be something wrong with the camera, because his image flickers a bit. Or maybe he’s just being artsy. I understand that this condition can happen when you only make it to Number Two on “American Idol”.

   More laser beams shoot through the crowd, but since nobody is exploding in a shower of sparks and hair product, I guess we’re dealing with friendly fire. Adam bops around and shows us that his leather jacket has ginormous metal spikes on the shoulders. I guess this helps keep away exuberant fans who want to know more about his fashion tips.

  More dancing, and more profile-flickering. Not sure that I like that profile business. It makes me think I’m having small strokes, and at my age, you really shouldn’t ignore a sensation like that. (Quick close-up of what looks like Alan Cumming being very jealous that his own couture does not have deadly accessories.)

  Adam doesn’t care and keeps singing. Let Alan get his own army of stylists.

  Then we switch to another part of the forest, where Adam is now dolled up like Fred Astaire on acid. This is probably another artsy thing that only makes sense if you have read some obscure book that was banned in France when it was first published in 1931. Adam fiddles with his top hat and does a few choreographed dance steps with the poor people. I’m not sure what the theme of this dance might be, but it looks like you must have an extensive sexual history before you can adequately perform some of the moves.

  Oh wait, now that I study things, maybe this is a re-imagining of the “Cats” musical. Some of the people do look distinctly feline, including Adam and his hat, and others are making clawing motions like it’s time to change the litter box. I’ll look into this further and let you know.

  And we’re back to the chorus again, with the editing getting really frenetic and H.R. Pufnstuf making a brief cameo. (Not kidding. Pause it at 1:52 or so. What the hell?) It also looks like somebody raided a taxidermy shop, because suddenly lots of the poor people have an inordinate amount of feathers in their hair. Through all of this, Adam keeps bouncing around and showing us the odd green profile where he gazes at his home planet in the night sky.

  More dancing, lasers, sex-tinged movements, and sparkly outfits. (How did we end up in a gay bar? But as long as happy hour prices are still in effect, I’m golden…)

  Then the song slows down a little bit, and the scenes start transitioning from the forest to… I don’t know. Somewhere that’s not the forest and looks more like a real stage. Now somebody is playing with a strobe light, making everybody move in that jerky way that people do when Grandpa shows 8-millimeter home movies. (Side note: The drummer appears to be naked, so I guess he was too good to dress in burlap, throw rugs and old newspapers like everybody else. But no one cares, because young people today just accept and move on, and they keep dancing.)

  The strobe light thing goes on for a while, but we can see enough to realize that Adam forgot to wipe the Clearasil off the right side of this face. This doesn’t affect his dancing and singing, though, so that’s good.

  Then the music gets really slow, and we have a close-up of Adam thinking he’s Greta Garbo. (Except for, you know, those spikes.) The camera lovingly lingers on his face, so that we can see the emotional pain in his eyes from having to hug Randy Jackson week after week.

  And the music speeds up again, complete with crotch shots showing that Adam may have misplaced one of the props on the set. (Wait, is THAT where the lasers are coming from?) We also see that Adam is sporting some platform boots that are bigger than some of my cousins. (He sure leads an exciting and dangerous life.) I guess the boots are a little pinchy, because he tries to kick them off at one point, but this doesn’t work, so he goes back to singing and wiggling his shoulders.

  And that’s about it. The song winds down while the “Cats” cast continues to leap and frolic. (I hope Betty Buckley isn’t watching this, poor thing.) The song finally ends, Adam smirks at us because he knows we know he’s odd but hot, and then he turns and marches off into the forest.

  I wonder if anybody told Adam that his hairdo looks like something people wore in lesbian bars in the 80’s. Because I think he should know, don’t you?


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Flo Rida, David Guetta - “Club Can’t Handle Me”

  Well, with “club” right there in the title, we’re basically guaranteed that this will be yet another video where happy, pretty people are bouncing around like idiots in a nameless bar, but I’ll try to be nice about it until I can’t stand it anymore.

  We start out with two really fancy cars parked in front of a nightclub. These vehicles are so fancy that the car doors open UP instead of out like cars driven by poor people who can’t sing. And get this: the car doors open at the same time, just like synchronized swimming, except there’s not any water and no one is wearing bathing caps. There’s a line of people waiting to get into the bar, and every one of them is mesmerized by the auto choreography. Three people fall to their knees in tears and worship.

  And there’s Flo, trying to look all hip as he clamors out of one of the cars, but he’s having a bit of a struggle because the cars are so low to the ground. (And really, what’s the point of having a car that requires a crane to get your ass out of?) One of the people in line just happens to have some WD-40 in her purse, so they use that to help Flo escape. Once free, Flo raises his hands in the air, praising Jesus or at least synthetic lubricants.

  Quick scene where some creepy stalker with a camera is chasing after some girl. They appear to be in one of those funhouse “hall of mirrors” things where you completely lose your dignity by smacking into a clear wall that you didn’t realize was there. I’m not sure what this means, but the girl seems to be smiling and doesn’t mind creepy guys with cameras, so that’s good.

  Back outside, Flo Rida is apparently so wealthy that he can just throw huge amounts of money in the air, making it look like we’re in a giant snow globe as the rectangles of paper flutter about. I don’t understand why the people in line don’t  make a dash for the cash, because that’s what I would do. (Somebody throws something in the air, it’s fair game, right?) Maybe the line-people are just too drunk to run and clutch. Who knows.

  Flo goes inside and says “hey” to David Guetta, because that’s what everyone should do when they first enter a nightclub. Then Flo gets serious about his singing, and here we go with four hundred people joining him on the dance floor, jumping up and down instead of actually dancing. This always bugs me. It’s a dance floor, not a trampoline. What do these people not understand?

  Oh, and they make sure that Flo is sandwiched in between two supermodels who are barely wearing anything, so we can assume that he is having sex with both of them. Flo keeps grabbing his crotch in case we don’t understand that he is an amazing stud.

  The bouncing continues for a while, inter-cut with what I’m assuming are scenes from the movie “Step Up 3D”. (I haven’t seen the movie, but based on the number of people who are twirling and writhing on the floor, it looks like a lot of people have stupidly stepped on downed power lines and/or not taken their seizure medication. No other discernible plot. I think I’ll just wait for the movie to come out on DVD, and then never buy it.)

  Then they actually do something interesting, which startles me. Several trampy girls come marching across the dance floor, holding aloft champagne bottles that appear to have lit sparklers jammed in their corks. No idea what this means, but it’s pretty. Then we’re back to the bouncing around and I drift off again.

  More scenes from the movie, wherein attractive people are learning how to dance so that they can one day be in a Flo Rida video while David Guetta does something with a turntable.

  Quick shot of a boring woman reading a book in a laundromat. (No idea.) Then some guy with fingerless gloves is practicing to be a mime. More bouncing. Then another quick shot of people standing in what might be a liquor store, and I want to join them with all my heart because I’m going to need a drink after this video.

  Hey, this nightclub must be pretty damn big, because now Flo is standing in the middle of 4 billion people. Everyone has their hands in the air, because apparently no new dance moves have been invented in the last 20 years. This is followed by some rude people crashing through the wall of the liquor store (maybe they need some beef jerky), and some more movie scenes where some chick in a yellow top shows us that she can cartwheel onto the back of this guy. Sweet.

  And more people crashing through walls, this time back at the laundromat. The boring, geeky girl with her stupid book just sits there, mad that somebody got dust on her Harry Potter. Poor thing. No wonder she’s doing laundry by herself when all the cool people are running through the streets with flaming champagne.

  Oh look, the cool kids brought the party to Boring Girl, and now everybody’s riding around in the laundry baskets and having sex in the tumbling dryers. Boring Girl’s life has now changed completely, so in celebration she gets a belly-button piercing, a nose ring AND a tattoo, all at the same time and before the rinse cycle is done.

  And we start jumping around, from the laundromat to the nightclub to possibly a subway car. Everybody’s really happy and bouncing, because Flo Rida’s in da house, and this is apparently on the same level as The Pope showing up to hand out sexual-abuse settlement checks. (And hey, did you know that if you show enough cleavage and can flip your hair to the beat, Flo Popa will spank you on the butt? Cool, huh?)

  More bouncing.

  And now a construction crew is busting some moves on the dance floor. This makes sense, right? (Flo seems to think so, because he’s praising Jesus again.) One of the guys does this thing where he rolls back and balances on his head, and suddenly my college degree is meaningless because I can’t do THAT. Cut to an aerial shot, showing that everybody on the planet is racing to watch Flo and his backup band, The Heavy Days, continue to have a good time with complete strangers.

  Another mime performance, this one from a very angry woman who needs extra straps on her arms to keep them from falling off. Or something. Then we have some group break-dancing where everybody spins on their faces while wearing colorful, matching outfits. (Quick shot of one lone woman, break-dancing by herself off in a corner. It’s probably Boring Girl from the laundromat, killing time while her whites dry.)

  Then Flo Rida bangs on his chest, which signals some unseen person to flood the dance floor with water. A new group of dancers rushes out to stomp around in the water, getting everybody wet. The crowd cheers and claps at this, but you know it’s a lie. In the real world, if some dancing fool splashed water on some diva’s fishnet stockings, there’d be a rumble and two drive-by shootings within 5 minutes.

  And that’s about it. People keep bouncing as the song winds down, and Flo Rida is spraying everyone with shaken champagne, because he couldn’t resist slipping in another reference to his unending and fertile manliness. One of the final shots is of an unexplained person smashing a guitar into the street in front of the club. Because nobody actually plays real instruments anymore. You just kick off a program on your netbook, and suddenly you have a hit single.

  Progress, right?


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Maroon 5 - “Misery”

  Well, isn’t this nice. An abusive relationship set to a catchy beat. And here we go.

  Lead singer Adam drops out of the sky and lands on his back in the middle of a street somewhere. I guess he’s fine, because he starts singing the song while gazing at us as if we were responsible for his situation. We’re not, but we’ll forgive him for now. Maybe he hit his head and isn’t thinking clearly.

  Next thing you know, some Supermodel is astraddle his body, writhing about and such in a non-chaste manner. She might be performing CPR in a very friendly way, but it’s not clear. Suddenly, Supermodel pulls Adam off the ground and slams him into a chain-link fence. I guess he likes that, because he smirks and sings some more. They paw at each other in a way that might be lust-inspired, but could also just be a nervous condition. Adam touches her booty, but she doesn’t seem to care for that.

  Without explanation, we’re suddenly up against some closed garage door, where the frenzied pawing continues, including a new variation where Supermodel chews on his lower lip. Then she jabs him in the forehead, which transports them to the middle of an alley where there’s some dust billowing around.

  It seems the dust causes Supermodel to have an allergic reaction, because she sneezes really hard and head-butts Adam, knocking him to his knees. That’s fine with Adam, because now he can play with the waistband of her jeans while she slaps and kicks him. What is inspiring her to be so brutal is not clear. Maybe she’s just mean, or hates his outfit. He does seem to have more hair product than is really necessary.

  Then she performs a really powerful high-kick, that somehow knocks Adam into the middle of another busy street. He scrambles to his feet to run away, but he’s not paying attention and gets hit by a car, driven by someone who’s in a hurry and doesn’t have time for pleasantries like stopping to see if they have killed someone. Adam survives, but, because he has issues, he runs into the abusive arms of Supermodel instead of the other way. This is how country songs are born.

  Now we’re in a restaurant where there’s not any food on the table, but at least they have silverware because Supermodel is playing with a rather menacing knife, rubbing it about on her body and looking uncomfortably deranged. While Adam continues to sing to her, because not even vicious supermodels can stop the music in him, she places his hand on the table and starts stabbing at the spaces between his splayed-out fingers. (Personally, I’d be asking for the check at this point.)

  Then crazy girl stabs the knife through a hand, but the hand seems too far away from Adam to really be his, so I’m guessing one of their dining neighbors can no longer play the piano or perform surgery. Crazy girl picks up Adam and throws him on the table, greatly irritating the unseen wait staff, and this transports them into a bathroom. Instead of just using the facilities like decent people, Super Crazy uses a stall door to smack Adam in the head. (Little trooper that he is, he never stops singing. The show must go on, despite masochism in the powder room.) Super then shoves Adam’s face in the sink water, so he must have gotten some Eggs Benedict on his chin during the brunch that they never finished because she has a stabbing fetish.

  Then we’re back out in the dinner, even though all the tables are now missing because the restaurant manager has had enough of the roughhousing. Crazy is sitting in a chair and semi-impales Adam on one of her skinny-jeaned legs, then she kicks Adam through the front plate-glass window of the diner. (This girl is really mad about something.)

  Out on the sidewalk, Adam sings amid the broken glass, while some other guy gets hit by a car, so maybe his luck is improving. Oh wait, maybe not. Now we’re on a fire escape, with Crazy Girl clearly still steamed about whatever it is. She throws him over the side, but he manages to cling to the edge of the platform, dangling several stories up, because he just can’t get enough of that dark lovin’. She doesn’t really care what he wants, so she stomps on his hand to show who writes the checks in this house, and he falls.

  But instead of slamming into the pavement, he instead lands in a nice montage of further abuse in all the locations that we’ve visited. A recap of the pain, if you will. There he is getting walloped in the street where they first met, and the alley, and the diner, and, looking very much like something that George Michael would enjoy, in the diner bathroom. We cap off the review with Adam turning to the side and spitting out blood, just to help us understand that you shouldn’t try this at home.

  Then Adam is standing on the street, and he spies Super Crazy with a bazooka. This can’t be good, so he finally wises up and runs. (Unfortunately, a slow-moving stranger is not quite as fleet on his feet, and catches the bazooka in the face. These are different times, people. You really shouldn’t be out sight-seeing unless you’ve been trained in evading missiles.) Then Adam gets stupid again, and follows Crazy up to the roof of some building, where she promptly throws him over the side and he lands on a car. Some people never learn.

  Hey look, another montage. This one has scenes of Adam grinning while Crazy nibbles on his ear, interspersed with Crazy beating on him some more, other people getting hit by cars (what’s up with that obsession), Crazy knocking Adam off a motorcycle because he was dumb enough to driver near her on one, and Adam lying on the smashed windshield of the car he fell on, probably paralyzed, but at least his vocal cords are still working. Maybe he doesn’t get paid if he doesn’t finish the song. Or dies.

  Oh, and shots of Crazy throwing knives at Adam, but hitting bystanders instead. That’s nice. (Out walking the dog and BAM, unwelcome personal penetration. Sort of like Saturday night in an Arkansas bar.) And more ear-nibbling. So those are the twin themes, murderous vehicles and lobe-snacking. The things that dreams are made of.

  We wrap it up with Super Crazy, wearing some cute fingerless gloves, lighting a Molotov cocktail and hurling it at Adam, so he can run through the streets while on fire, which is something I’ve always wanted to do, so I’m a little jealous. Finally, Adam collapses to the ground, conveniently near a microphone so we can hear the last words of the song. Then Crazy and her combat boots stomp off into the sunset, looking for other lead singers in denial…


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Taylor Swift - “Mine”

  We start out with fashionable Taylor wandering into some diner, her hair all strategically messy and wearing a little-girl dress that would look awkward on anybody else. She sits at one of the tables, where there’s a lone flower in a tiny vase, so we can know that she’s unattached but pretty. She glances over and sees a couple arguing at another table, which causes her to flash back to her life as a Little Taylor, when she had parents who argued while she stood in another room and looked sad. But her hair is still pretty.

  Then we cut to Big Taylor in some forest, where the trees bear fruit that are glossy pictures, showing scenes from Taylor’s life. Taylor fondles one of the pics, but we can’t see it so we don’t really care. Back to the diner, where a cute waiter struts up, ignoring all the other diners because they aren’t pretty and single, and locks eyes with Taylor. They instantly fall in love while the smell of patty melts fills the air.

  More shots of Taylor flitting about in the picture forest, pausing here and there to paw one of the glossies while making sure that the woodland breeze caresses her hair in a wafty manner. Then we’re in the diner again, with Taylor and the waiter ogling one another and planning a life together. Cut to the pair on a random beach somewhere, and we see that some clueless stylist has convinced Taylor that wearing one of those headbands you normally see on babies would be really hip. It’s not.

  Then Taylor’s new beloved does this really nelly hop-skip thing while they’re walking along the shoreline, and it’s very clear to me that the boy is gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but Taylor, honey, don’t be surprised if you find a copy of “Dreamgirls” in pretty boy’s backpack. But they keep up the pretense, nuzzling on the beach and clutching at each other.

  Then we “flash forward”, according to the lyrics, and we have Taylor and RuPaul moving into a house together. She’s carrying more boxes than him, so all the warning signs are there if Taylor would just see them. Taylor proceeds to unpack some of the boxes, and she finds a picture of Little Taylor with her parents. So she has another flashback. Actually, it’s the same flashback, parents arguing and Little Taylor looking sad. What’s the big deal here? So her parents had a fight and she heard it. If that’s the worst thing that happened to her, she probably won’t even need medication or counseling. Move on.

  During the unpacking ceremony, RuPaul comes in to help with one of the boxes. He smiles excitedly while he pulls something out that looks like a giant metal flower, waving it about like his prayers have been answered. Wake up, Taylor.

  Well, she’s awake, but she’s back in that stupid forest with the pictures hanging everywhere. I really don’t like this place. Seriously, if you were strolling along in the woods and came across that mess, you wouldn’t think “this is really nice and soothing”. You would think “there’s probably a serial killer right around here somewhere and I don’t have my cell phone.”

  Another quick shot of Taylor and Pretty Boy in their new house, dancing around with the lights out. If that’s not a euphemism for their sham relationship, I don’t know what is.

  Then here comes that dang Little Taylor again, still looking sad and still listening to her parents have that same argument. This is an unhealthy obsession, Big Taylor. Let it go. I mean, it’s nice that it inspired you to write a song and all, but I’m starting to get bored. My parents fought all the time, about a variety of pointless things instead of just the one argument, and I got over it. Just ask my therapist.

  Now the couple is on a slim little boat somewhere, looking all “Vanity Fair” circa 1920, and Pretty Boy pulls out a ring and proposes. This is SO Elton John during his Denial Period when he married that odd woman with a penchant for lace. I guess Taylor likes lace and denial as well, because she accepts and hugs her little chorus boy.

  Oh look, now that they’re living together, Taylor and Ricky Martin are having a big fight in the kitchen, just like the one Little Taylor overheard back in the day before she was a pop star. (This always happens. You shack up, and you instantly hate each other.) It’s not clear what the fight is about, but my guess is that Ricky called her “Bruno” whilst playing slap and tickle in the bedroom.

  Anyway, Taylor runs out of the house and into the night, just like she did as Little Taylor after hearing that one disagreement her parents had when she was still impressionable and hadn’t learned how to play a guitar. Neil Patrick Harris runs after Taylor, grabs her by the hair, and then mashes her face together with his hands so that she will look more masculine if he has to kiss her. This causes Taylor to remember the good times she used to have with her sexually incompatible mate, back when they were running along the beach and she was wearing the dumb-ass headband. All is forgiven.

  Cut to scenes of Taylor and George Michael getting married, while their friends stand around and place bets. Two seconds later, Taylor gives birth, and we have a shot of Pretty Boy holding up the wee one and trying to figure out who the Baby Daddy might be. Then Taylor spits out another kid, so somebody’s getting some action, but I don’t think Pretty Boy’s name is on any birth certificates. Maybe the UPS man delivered more than just a package.

  Then we have scenes with Taylor and Pretty Boy playing with their equally-blonde children. The kids like to jump maniacally on the bed while Taylor laughs and thinks they’re cute, which is SO not reality. Any normal parent would be spanking some hyperactive little bottoms. We also have the family splashing around on the same beach where the whole lie of a marriage began. Appropriately, everyone gets salt in their eyes, and we have an image of the little boys all alone on a rock, presumably while their parents are busy dating outside the marriage.

  We wrap things up with another shot of Taylor back at that fateful diner, when she selected something that wasn’t on the menu. If she had just ordered the beef instead of the quiche, none of this would have happened…


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Kesha - “Take It Off”

  Hey, boys and girls, it’s Kesha and her gang of super-trampy friends once again running around and doing pointless things to the same beat that’s in every one of Kesha’s songs! Yay!

  This time, Kesha and Company have invaded an abandoned motel somewhere in the desert, probably California, because one would assume that Kesha has never crossed the state line or she would know better than to dress like that. We see lots of shots of the derelict building, just so we can fully understand that it’s, you know, abandoned. This is apparently a key factor, because it’s just not as fun invading a motel where people can actually live.

  It seems Kesha has just arrived on her motorcycle (or maybe she slept on it) because we see her hopping off the thing while several of her zombie girlfriends are marching up behind her. Kesha starts singing (using the term loosely), and then raises her arms, which causes several skanky guys to run up and join the caravan of trashy people going nowhere. Kesha also does something with her hands and eyes which I suppose is meant to signify that she’s a wild huntress on the prowl, but it really just looks like she’s had too much caffeine and can’t stand still.

  The gang finds an abandoned car in the parking lot, and several of the guys decide this would be the perfect thing to climb on and then jump up and down. Because rusted metal is so soft and comfy. They guys get bored really quickly because, let’s face it, a broken-down car can only take you so far. (See, in one throw-away line I made a rhyme that’s more pithy than anything in this song, so it’s really not that hard, Kesha.)

  Anyway, the chorus kicks in, which causes everybody to take off running like the STD test results just came in at the free clinic. Everybody starts scrambling and dancing all over the place, running up and down stairs and such. (One poor girl slams into a giant pillar that she somehow didn’t see, and then she looks over her shoulder like somebody pushed her. They didn’t. She’s drunk.) For variety, we also have folks pounding on guest room doors and leaping through the air over people that are passed out on the ground.

  Kesha eventually finds a fur coat in the rusty car, because boys are stupid and they don’t recognize couture. You really need to keep warm in the desert, so Kesha slips this thing on and parades around like she’s somebody important. Then everybody decides that they want to go swimming, so they scramble over the barriers that say “Stay Out” because they can’t read. (Who goes to school anymore? That’s so 90’s.)

  One brief shot of Kesha way out in the desert with nothing around here. The loneliness causes her to crawl on the ground and act like a jungle cat. This scene doesn’t fit, so it probably belongs in another video and somebody screwed up.

  Back at the abandoned motel, we have the idiots bouncing around in the empty pool. They probably haven’t figured out that there’s not any water, but a few of them have discovered that if you touch this one guy’s back, puffs of yellow dust billow out. (How long has it been since he’s bathed? Seriously.)

  Shot of someone throwing a trashcan across the parking lot, because that’s what Kesha is singing in the song right at that time. So we’re going for realism? Is this a documentary? Then a skanky boy and a slutty girl find out that if they run really fast and slam into each other, they turn into a cloud of colorful particles. Of course, it might be hard for them to cash the paycheck from this gig, since they don’t exist anymore, but I suppose it’s not important.

  As anyone would do in the same situation, everybody starts picking up the pretty dust from their former friends and slinging it about as they dance and twirl. There’s a slo-mo shot of Kesha standing on the edge of the pool and opening her fur coat so we can see her jewelry better. Other than that, there’s no reason for this stunt.

  Oh look, some nice gentleman tried to help one of the girls out of the pool, but his hand turned to blue dust and she fell on her ass. How inconvenient. Then Kesha, because she’s never done drugs in her life, pulls a zipper on her chest so yellow sparkly stuff can spill out of her. She’s trying to smile seductively. Or maybe, with all the crap flying around in the air, she’s signaling that somebody better bring her asthma inhaler pronto.

  Despite all the odd dismemberments and death occurring around them, most of the people keep dancing and playing with the bits of their friends. It doesn’t seem to bother anyone that they are basically cavorting around in a psychedelic crematorium. Nothing says “BFF” like wearing a coating of Betty Lou in your hair.

  And that’s about it. More maniacal writhing on the bottom of the pool, more body parts disintegrating like a really cheap piñata, and clouds of billowing ex-people wafting about and making everything colorful but gritty. They are going to have a heck of a time getting that pool filter clean.

  Finally, Kesha pulls her chest zipper all the way down and her arm disappears.

  I think that says it all.


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Bruno Mars - “Just The Way You Are”

  Well, this one’s going to be a little tough to review, because there’s a whole lot of nothing going on, but I’ll give it a run. (At least, for a change, the video is NOT set in a dance club, although that might confuse some of the teenyboppers out there.) Anyway, here goes…

  We start with a very pretty woman with cute headphones, listening to some song and minding her own business. In walks Bruno, and I guess he’s got an attitude, because he picks up her cassette player and turns it off. (Yes, cassette player, even though no one buys cassettes anymore. Because the rest of the video wouldn’t work if she was listening to a CD like any normal person would.)

  Bruno pops out the cassette with an impish grin, while Pretty Woman pretends to be upset with his actions, even though she’s really not, because actual stress marks on her face might detract from her cuteness. Bruno snags the magnetic tape inside and then yanks out a big chunk of it. He then sits at the coffee table, which just happens to have a convenient area that has already been cleared off. While the music starts, Bruno takes the tape and spells out his name, because narcissism always starts at home. Then he spells out the name of the song, because we’re apparently a little slow and have already forgotten what we were watching when we pushed play 20 seconds ago.

  And really, that’s about it for the rest of the video. Bruno draws things with the magnetic tape, Pretty Baby gazes upon him adoringly because she likes spontaneous art, and Bruno gazes back with his practiced grin, smirking in a way that indicates sexual activity is somewhere on the horizon.

  First he draws Pretty Baby's face, and it looks JUST like her, if she were actually made out of magnetic tape. Pretty Baby takes an exception to Bruno’s depiction of her hairstyle, and she makes some adjustments, even though nobody asked her to do so. Then she fiddles with her own hair, just in case the drawing is prettier and we can’t have that. Bruno purposely messes up the drawing’s hair, because he has control issues.

  For the chorus, Bruno draws himself on the table, and you can tell that he actually likes himself better than Pretty, because he gives himself an entire body instead of just a floating head. This allows his mini-me to do actual dance steps, and therefore get more screen time than Pretty Baby. (We get a close-up of Pretty Baby, and you can tell that’s she’s not pleased with the upstaging, but she smiles anyway, because that’s what she’s getting paid for after all.)

  Oh look, Pretty Baby must have psychic powers, because she makes the image on the table turn back into her. And then she makes the image stop smiling. (Note to Bruno: See, this is what married life will be like. It’s all about her, and she’s never happy.) Bruno reaches in and makes the image smile again, because she better be happy, damn it, after all the bling he’s been buying her lately.

  Well, Pretty Baby is not about to give in just yet. She stands up and let’s us see by her outfit that she really liked that movie “Flashdance” back in the day. Pretty approaches the couch where Bruno has been doing his artwork, and promptly snuggles up to him so that she can share the camera shot with Bruno and they will quit cutting away from her. In an astounding bit of trick photography, we can see the coffee table beyond the couple, and the image is moving all on its own! OMG!

  That gets boring, so we close in on the coffee table once more, and the image changes to a keyboard. Two hands reach in and start playing this piano, which is kind of fun to see, until we quickly cut back to the couple and Bruno’s hands are all over his future unhappy wife. Well, then, where the hell did those other hands come from? Is somebody under the table? Did this just turn into a slasher movie? “Last Piano on the Left”.

  While Bruno croons to her, never once taking off his hat, which is kind of rude, Pretty kisses her own finger because she tastes so good. Then the camera moves back a bit, and we can see that they both have their shoes on the couch, so these people are sloppy pigs. Just because he might be a pop star doesn’t mean they should wreck the upholstery with footwear.

  Time for more of the chorus, and another shot of Magnetic Bruno bopping around on the coffee table. Then the image changes to a bell, so those weird hands that don’t really belong to anybody that we’ve actually seen in the room can reach in and ring the bell. This is starting to get a little bit tired. So somebody has an interesting graphics program on their PC. Big deal. And really, didn’t “A-Ha” do the hand-drawing thing a couple decades ago? Been there.

  The image changes to Bruno playing the piano, while real Bruno continues to warble at Pretty while she hugs her own body in outright self-love. Then real Bruno is magically transported across the room, and is suddenly playing a real piano (Just like the one on the coffee table! Wow!) He turns to look back at her, and she has another fake smile, this one saying “dude, quit leaving me out of the camera shot”. He’s not impressed with insubordination, so he turns and just sings to the piano because it doesn’t talk back.

  Pretty Baby just sits there on the couch, continuing to scuff the fabric with her old-school cowboy boots and growing increasingly agitated that Bruno isn’t looking at her and is instead bellowing the song. The song and the video end with just Bruno and his instrument, but if you listen closely enough, you can hear those cowboy boots stomping out the door as Pretty goes to call her agent and a divorce lawyer. Because nobody puts Baby in a corner. Even if their coffee table is a giant Etch-a-Sketch.


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Mike Posner - “Cooler Than Me”

  Well, we start out in some really crowded bar. From the sounds of screaming, there must be a fire and the only exit is blocked by somebody’s bling. Then we see Mike sing a few lines, so I guess it’s an impromptu concert where the goal is to holler louder than the band. Then somebody runs off the stage and jumps into the crowd, because that’s fresh and nobody’s ever done it before. As the crowd rips this person into souvenir pieces, Mike thanks them for being so well-behaved. Then he wanders off.

  Next we see him traipsing along down some stairs and putting on a leather jacket, so that we can know he’s just like us, because we all have to walk and wear fashionable but protective clothing. He just happens to stumble across a very nice convertible filled with lovely women (that just happened to me on the way home tonight, wow) and they go cruising. Sadly, the girls get bored really quickly and don’t seem to be having a good time, so Mike hops out, not even bothering to use the door because he’s all hip and street.

  Mike goes into a hotel, but instead of heading directly to the bar like any normal person would, he goes into a creepy maintenance hallway and rings for the service elevator. We get to watch him watch the floor numbers click upwards. Then the camera looks at his shoes. It’s all completely unexciting so I don’t know where we’re headed with this. Hopefully it’s not one of those arty things where depressed people sit in barren rooms and talk about chalk.

  He finally gets off the elevator and goes down another boring, dimly-lit hall. It would be kind of fun if an axe-murderer would suddenly appear, very bitter about his childhood, but I’m thinking that probably won’t happen. Instead, Mike goes into what might be a hotel room, but it’s very dark. He starts singing, so maybe he has one of those “clap on” things and he’s trying to activate the lights. This doesn’t work, so he just starts walking around.

  Oh look, there are LOTS of people in here, but for some reason they aren’t moving, frozen in place in mid-conversation and such. Everyone’s very pretty, of course, because they don’t let ugly people in music videos unless they’re in the band or doing the band. Since it’s the first thing I would think of as well in  this situation, Mike takes the sunglasses off one of the popsicle people and puts them on.

  Well, then, that was apparently the trick, because now everybody is dancing around and having a good ole time. Mike nods his head to the beat while everybody cavorts and shows cleavage. Mike wanders around some more, singing and trying to avoid getting crushed by one of the party guests because there’s really not enough room for these people to be so energetic. Quick shot of some rude woman stopping a spinning record by just slamming her hand down on it. Back in my day, this would get you kicked out of the party, and you wouldn’t be allowed to take your leftover beer with you.

  Suddenly, we’re transported to the roof of the hotel. Mike has changed into a different leather jacket, and flipped the big-ass collar on it upwards, so that he looks vaguely Vulcan. He sings some more, standing behind the neon sign for the hotel. He must have a headache, because he starts grabbing at his head after a little while.

  Then we’re back in the hotel room/dance hall, and the blondie who was the victim of sunglass-theft finally figures out who took them. (Um, the guy who’s wearing your shades? Let’s start there.) She marches up to Mike and snatches them back, then runs off to dye her hair again because it looks SO natural.

  Well, that makes Mike mad, so we see him run downstairs to another level where hopefully people let you steal things and don’t make a big fuss about it. (We also have more rooftop scenes mixed in with the main story, but we’re basically over that mess by this point.) In the new room, where people don’t know that he’s a criminal, he sings some more, and at least these people aren’t bouncing off the walls, instead calmly tapping a toe and eating snackies from a tray.

  Mike encounters a woman with a serious Lisa Loeb fetish. She has a major attitude about Mike trying to sing to her, and keeps looking away. (To be fair, she has a slightly-pale, vegan look, so maybe she’s offended by Mike wearing a cow's skin.) Mike doesn’t care for her not caring for him, so he steals her glasses as well. (I think I see a pattern here. Mike failed optometry school and has been a sociopath ever since.)

  Anyway, Mike puts these glasses on, and everybody in the room is transformed into early 60’s outfits. (Think “Mad Men”, only nobody appears to be smoking and I doubt if anybody in this room has won an Emmy.) Mike starts walking around and singing again, but no one is impressed. (Does he not understand that people during the Kennedy Presidency had never heard this type of music before? Give them time.) Because the scene just isn’t working, Lisa Loeb walks up and slaps her glasses off his face.

  Cut to Mike sitting on a bed, with Katy Perry passed out beside him. Oh wait, she’s not entirely in a coma, managing to wiggle her shoulders to the beat. Of course, she’s wearing glasses, and of course Mike steals them. Hey, the glasses are 3-D! We’re really running out of ideas in this video! He puts them on and wanders around the room, staring at everybody with that weird triple-image red/blue thing going on. Mike seems to be having some trouble maneuvering with his jacked-up vision, but it doesn’t immediately occur to him that he could just take the glasses off.

  When he finally does wise up and removes them, the first thing he sees is the lost fourth member of ZZ Top, which would make anyone willingly scratch their own eyeballs out. Naturally, Mike steals his glasses, which allow him to see girls jumping on a bed in their underwear. (Seriously, have you EVER seen grown women dancing on a bed at a party? Why does this keep showing up in music videos?)

  We wrap the video and the song up with Mike racing about in a mad frenzy, stealing lots of sunglasses and experiencing messed-up visions from a late 60’s head movie. He finally has enough, and wanders out of the building, holding his head and looking very tired. Of course his head hurts. Didn’t anybody ever tell him that you shouldn’t wear other people’s glasses? Or let strangers dance in your house? Or, you know, wear real leather. Because Lisa Loeb doesn’t approve.

  Anyway…


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Usher, Pitbull - “DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love”

  We start things off in what looks like it might be a very fancy restaurant where there was some type of misunderstanding and everybody died. Chairs are knocked over and glass is smashed. Then we get a close-up glimpse of a turntable, so apparently music was involved in whatever tragedy took place. As the camera pans the destroyed room, we get ghosty images of dancers cutting in and out. It’s like “The Shining”, except not really and we don’t see Shelley Duvall’s ugly hairdo and screaming mouth.

  Then some evil hand reaches in and gets the record spinning, and we start to see more images of people dancing. Well, I think they’re dancing. It’s basically a lot of hair being flipped around in some type of violent manner. I wouldn’t rule out electrocution, what with all the spilled liquid on the floor. Then one of the piles of shattered glass puts itself back together again, and hops up on the bar as a newly-restored bottle of liquor. So the ghosts and/or the hidden DJ have magical powers? Got it. It’s like “Charmed”, except not really and we don’t see Alyssa Milano’s belly button.

  The music starts and more people flip their hair. We see Usher walking up some stairs, and just in case we aren’t sure who he is, someone body whispers “Usher” repeatedly on the soundtrack. (He’s not vain at all, is he?) Then Usher starts doing some dance moves, because that’s what he’s all about. Of course, he’s got shades on even though it’s very dark in the club, because that’s one of the requirements in music videos. Oh, and he sings, too, in case you were wondering.

  Apparently the extras have been told to stay away from the star, because he has a big chunk of the dance floor all to himself. Or maybe it’s some kind of insurance thing, because Usher likes to kick a lot. The main Usher keeps dancing, but we also have shots of him wandering through the gyrating crowd, probably trying to figure out where the bathroom might be. No one stops flipping their hair long enough to provide directions, which is a little sad.

  Then we start to realize the Ushers are moving at one speed, while the big-haired dancers are moving at another. Not sure what that’s all about. It’s kind of fun and different at first, but quickly becomes slightly annoying. This continues for a bit. (I should also point out a few other music video requirements: It’s important that all the nameless dancers raise their hands over their heads at exactly the same time, and it’s okay if your whipped hair gets in your face, because a nice fan will blow it out of your way for you.

  More singing and dancing from Usher, more sexual writhing by the assembled dancers, and more shots of the mysterious DJ jacking around with the record on the turntable. (At one point, we see that Usher is apparently a fan of that mystifying “pants on the ground” mess. It’s only a short piece, but his pants are clearly way south of his waist, and I’m disappointed that yet another music star is reinforcing dressing habits that will ensure certain youngsters will never get a promotion at their jobs.

  Then Usher is doing some kind of running-slide thing in a big room, and he expertly skids to a halt in front of a large window. Behind him, two women are posed against the window glass like limber black windows. (No explanation is given, they’re just there.) Usher does some more dance steps, fiddling with a hat. Turns out he was performing some sort of wake-the-dead ceremony, because the spider-women come alive and start dancing with him to show their gratitude. It’s like “Interview with the Vampire”, except not really and we don’t get to see Tom Cruise with totally-wrong blonde hair.

  Usher and the preying mantises boogie for a bit in synch, mixed in with some shots assuring us that Usher is still wearing his shades, so you can rest easy on that point. Then they line up and do some Hindu business so it looks like he has six arms. Again, no idea why we’re seeing this, but it looks really hip with the strobe lights, so that’s probably the only motivation. Then Usher dances away and leaves the spider chicks to devour one another. It’s like “Mean Girls”, except not really and we don’t get to see Lindsay Lohan before she lost her mind and started wearing lots of leather.

  Usher heads back to the main dance room, and they start screwing around with the speed of the other dancers, making Usher look really cool because he’s still got his smooth moves, but everybody else seems to be badly in need of a better pharmacist. (The bad drug regimen still doesn’t stop these poor folks from jumping in the air and flipping their hair. This is gonna burn like Pilates in the morning, people.)

  Oh wait, did we just see the DJ’s face? Looks like he’s wearing modified ski goggles, which is odd, but I guess if Usher can sport eyewear, so can he.

  Doesn’t really matter, because we quickly cut to Pitbull in another part of the bar, surround by shimmying lovelies, because that’s in his contract. (He also has shades on, so it’s a wonder any of these people actually found their way home.) He raps away with his usual thing, all about he’s the greatest stud this world has ever seen and the womens can’t wait to have sex with him. Speaking of, someone should probably tell the bevy of anorexic starlets around him that they are supposed to be in love with him, and not in chatting to one another about who has the best Cosmo recipe.

  Cut back to Usher in the main part of the dance floor. The extras have cleared a space for his royal presence, but a select few of the underlings have been allowed to dance with him. These extras dash about and strike poses, not really dancing, including one enterprising floozy whose signature move appears to be bending over and waving her fanny at Usher. He’s not really that interested, having seen that move a hundred times, so she’s replaced by some guy in white spandex that thinks he’s Ziggy Marley.

  Suddenly, Usher jumps about five feet in the air, his mouth wide open and wailing one of the song notes. (Chili dogs kick in?) When he lands, the select dancers kick it up another notch, with everybody really bouncing around, so I guess they all ate at the same restaurant. They seem really invested in doing one move where they put one hand behind their head and flap their arm like a half-ass “chicken dance”. This does nothing for me. I tried, but no.

  And that’s basically it, we have about 30 more seconds of the same thing: people dancing on the ceiling, producers jacking with the film so it appears that everyone but Usher has motor-skill issues, and Pitbull is still off on the side, praising himself while his disinterested harem just sits there and waits for a paycheck. Then Usher and the featured dancers all touch their left breasts at the same time, and the song ends.

   Usher thanks the mysterious DJ and then wanders off while the sunrise is apparently streaming through the windows. Interestingly enough, Usher is not wearing his sunglasses at this time, when they would be most useful. Perhaps I should send him an instructional brochure…


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