Alexandra Stan - “Mr. Saxobeat”

  We start out with Alexandra being dragged into a police station. We have no idea what she’s done that she shouldn’t have, but it could very possibly have something to do with the 4 tons of blue eye-shadow that she’s wearing. Some detective with big sunglasses hauls Alexandra across the station and up some very dramatic split-level stairs, and we know right away that those stairs will come in handy when folks break into the inevitable line dance later in the video.

  For some reason, it takes an incredibly long time for Alexandra to maneuver up those stairs. We spend a lot of footage playing around with jump cuts and odd angles, most of which seem designed to highlight the fact that Alexandra has breasts and an apparent fondness for wearing multiple metal belts around her waist. We get glimpses of a couple other ladies being forcibly escorted as well, but they must be backup criminals and we probably won’t get to see much of them until the chorus.

  Three years later, our little party gets to the top of the stairs and Alexandra is shoved into one of those stark interrogation rooms where people get accused of things and have to explain exactly what they were doing at 10:37pm on a Saturday night three years ago. I guess the police must have a lot of questions, because there are about 50 officers crammed in there with Alexandra. (All of them wearing sunglasses, naturally, because the sun is always so bright in windowless rooms.)

  They make Alexandra sit in a magical chair, one that causes her to instantly break into the vocals of the song. She does this for a bit, with more of those fast and quirky camera angles, then she slips out into the hallway and does some minimal choreography to the beat. (This must be a very laid-back police station if you can make everybody wait while you go dance in other parts of the building.)

  Then we’re back in the interrogation room, and the jump shots start piling up. The officers may have had some questions, but they don’t really have a chance to ask any of them because Alexandra won’t stop singing and flirting. She wiggles all over the place, poses sultrily, and makes sure we understand that she’s wearing form-fitting leather. Oh, and all of this is enhanced by her curious hairdo, a style that indicates she must have been arrested during a storm with some pretty serious straight-line winds.

  We also get to see the backup criminals being interviewed, but they don’t seem to be as horny as Alexandra, so we mainly stick with shots of her humping the conference table and trying to keep her eyes open with all that heavy eye shadow. Then we have a montage of more dancing in the hallway, Alexandra artfully exhaling smoke even though we never see a cigarette, and the officers finally getting fed up with all the musicality and aerobics, throwing the girls into a jail cell.

  The backup criminals sit on a cot and pout, but Alexandra opts to just stand at the front of the cell, probably because she’s discovered that shoving her breasts through the bars enhances them even more than the shadowy lighting is already doing. In the midst of this game of pokey, she spies the officer who is on guard right outside the cell. He has unattractive and wispy facial hair, a sure sign that he’s very lonely and hasn’t gotten to use his nightstick much lately.

  Alexandra, being experienced at the needs of men, decides to use home-boy’s yearnings to her own advantage, quickly seducing him with her amazing talents (with some assistance from her backup criminal dancers) and managing to steal his gun, just not the one he wished she would have taken. The girls lock the poor guy into the cell, then race off, Charlie’s Angels style, to do who knows what. But first, of course, they have to pause in another hallway and do the line dance that we knew was coming.

  Eventually, after sneaking around for a bit and posing on some stairs, the girls manage to locate the officers’ locker room, which just happens to be stocked with police uniforms perfectly-designed for endowed women and their sidekicks. This obviously means that we have to have an extended montage of the ladies changing clothes, with shots of bare skin flashing and libidos rising.

  Then the girls, waving guns and heaving chests, storm-troop into some room where there’s a bunch of officers clearly not paying attention to what is going on in their own precinct. The girls tie the guys up using duct tape (they couldn’t just use the handcuffs that are surely lying all over the station?) and then they sashay out, without a single hair mussed.

  There’s one last bit of line dancing in yet another random hallway, then the trio bravely make their way back down that grand staircase, pretending to be real officers and not Victoria’s Secret models showcasing the latest clothing line, “Criminal Crotchware”. We get a glimpse of another guy being dragged into the station, but Alexandra purposefully ignores him. (Hey, is that Mr. Saxobeat?) Then the girls, grinning at each other in triumph, simply walk out the front door, headed to Macy’s for a sale on toaster ovens…


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Colbie Caillat - “ Brighter Than The Sun”

  We start off with a shot of a lovely beach house that only recording stars can afford, then we cut to Colbie standing somewhere outside and letting the sun worship her golden locks as it usually does. Cut once more to what we assume is the inside of the house, and there’s a whole lot of happy people up in here ready for a party. Hay, gurl, hay.

  But first Colbie wants to make sure she has an appropriate and pleasing theme for this little shindig so everyone can relax and enjoy themselves before that first person has had too much to drink and things go all to hell. In between bouts of twirling in the sunlight and lying artfully on a couch, Colbie explains to her posse that we gonna jack things up a bit by bringing the outside inside for a while. Everybody run get some dirt and some plants and some wine coolers!

  And of course all the folks crowded around her think it’s the best idea ever, mainly because Home Girl has top billing and they better be sweet if they want to get hired again. To get even more in the mood, a bunch of people jump up and down in that slo-mo way that means they don’t really know how to dance but they’re supposed to act like it. Then I guess a Home Depot truck pulls up outside, because suddenly the party guests have a full supply of gardening supplies at their disposal. This leads to more jumping.

  Colbie decides its time for more twirling in the sun, so she does some more of that, although she is kind enough to go sing in front of her super-excited posse every once in a while. Meanwhile, the extras who weren’t important enough for the dancing business are running around fervently, potting plants and trimming roses and rolling out sod on the coffee table. (They even use some of the sod on Colbie’s bed, which she briefly sits on and sings like she really loves it, but you know that once the camera turned away she motioned to one of her assistants that that mess better be gone by bedtime.)

  In the middle of all this fun, Colbie orders folks to do that thing where people stand in a circle and clap while some fool tries to bust some moves in the center of that circle. The first guy is all shifty, doing something not right with his shoulders, so I hope Security is keeping an eye on him. Then we have the possibly-drunken girl doing the standard water-sprinkler dance, and some more folks who just like to wear retro flannel shirts and strike poses, because any actual choreography is too tiring after you’ve lugged a bag of fertilizer.

  At the 1:06 mark, a ring of disembodied, clapping hands close in on Colbies’s head while she’s sprawled on the grassy knoll. It looks kind of creepy and I’m not sure I would order such a thing from the menu, but Colbie doesn’t seem to mind the vengeful hands at all. She probably has the right clauses in her contract to protect her at moments like this, so it’s all good.

  And that’s about the extent of it, really. People dancing, Colbie singing and shimmering, and impromptu landscaping. (They even install a lily pond at one point, because you sure won’t make the front page of the society papers without one of those.)

  Side note on that shifty guy: He keeps breaking character and looking directly at the camera instead of pretending to talk to his friends or adore Colbie. (Stop the video at 1:30: That boy is up to no good, even if he does have interesting cheekbones. He is clearly planning to take things that don’t have his name on them.)

  I guess Colbie gets a little tired out from the twirling and her unending natural beauty, so she goes in this one room where they’ve installed a swing in front of the fireplace, because apparently that’s how it looked in her dream. There must be a sign on the door explaining that this is a single-occupancy room, because her frenetic and slightly-soiled friends leave her alone while she wanders about while (what I hope are) butterflies flitter about. Oh, and there’s an orange tree in her Solitude Room as well. Gotta have one of those.

  Refreshed and spiritually-realigned, Colbie leaves the room and is immediately attacked by that vicious ring of hands again, so I guess it’s true that stars don’t have any real privacy. But she’s a trooper, and she claps along with the hands to show that she ain’t scared of people that come up in her grill and get all threateningly rhythmic.

  Meanwhile, other hands are busy all over the place, hurling wads of dirt, sculpting bushes, pruning thorny things, and shoving stems into anything where a stem can be shoved. (On the slutty-girl side of the spectrum, we do have a few possibly naughty nymphs who seem to be slightly turned on by all the stem-thrusting going on, casting smoky gazes at the few men in the room, but that kind of action is really for another type of video.)

  Eventually everyone appears to get bored with the Patty Planter routine and we stop seeing so much of that, focusing instead on the partying and revelry and the shame-potential dancing angle where folks thrust your ass into the middle of the room to see if you can come up with something remotely interesting. While you do get bonus points if your spastic maneuvers actually seem to be going along with the song, the real goal seems to be looking cute and not spilling your drink.

  And that basically takes us through the rest of the video. We do get a few more shots of Colbie strolling about in that spring meadow room like it’s an advertisement for feminine wash, and a couple of remaining gardening tasks, like actually mowing the grass in the living room, because that’s always important, but really it’s now all about the dancing and having a good time in Colbie’s Chalet de Flower Power.

  So dance we do, with everybody grinning so big their heads might snap off, limbo-lines of people snaking through the petunia pots, shifty guy still looking shifty, nobody breaking a sweat even though there are 400 people shoved into one room made to look like a place where Tazan would meet Jane, and one odd moment where Colbie seems to believe that she might be leading a church revival at a Jamaican resort.

  The song starts to fade and the happy guests start to disappear from the shots, which allows the camera to focus and linger on Colbie and her tresses as she finishes the lyrics. Then she goes to lay down on her grass bed and dream about what she can do with her house for the next party.

  Just don’t think about the nasty bugs that are probably crawling around in that sod, Colbie. They probably managed to get all of them out at the gardening center before they brought them over. Probably. Sleep well, Summer Breeze.


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Gabriella Cilmi - “Sweet About Me”

  We start out with Gabriella lying on her back in the middle of a floor, singing the song, so either she’s already drunk or she was absent that day in pop-star class when they talked about stage presence. Based on her hairstyle-choice and nonchalant attitude, I’m guessing that Gabriella probably doesn’t spend too much time caring about what other people might think. (Really digging on that square-headed microphone, though. Go, girl!)

  Cut to one of the band members doing something with drums and wearing an expression that makes it very clear he is not to be bothered until the pizza gets here. Okay, then. Gabriella then drags her butt off the floor and strolls around a bit, while the camera cuts between her and random band-member body parts like elbows and feet, letting us know that the director is pretty laid back about things like composition and structure.

  Wait, was that a quick shot of a guy in a cage? Has he been naughty, and if so, the good kind or the bad kind of naughty? Will there be further discipline? Hmmm.

  Back to Gabriella and the band, with her still strolling about like she’s looking for some really cute shoes at the mall but isn’t all that invested in actually finding anything. Then she manages to come across some guy who is hanging upside down from a pulley, all bound up in ropes and such. (What is going on up in this place?) Gabriella just sings to him for a while and then wanders off, so I guess she sees things like this every day. And the guy doesn’t bother to say things like “I’m in a bit of a pickle, could you help me out?” so I guess it’s all good.

  Gabriella gets tired and has to sit down in a retro red chair for a little bit, so we do that, then she’s up and wandering around again, so she might have some focus issues. She wanders past Cage Boy and then we get to meet another dude tied to a brick pillar, but at least he can still reach his harmonica and is able to play it in the right part of the song, so I’m sure he’ll get a merit badge for that.

  More singing and walking with Gabriella, along with some close-up shots of her face so we can see that she really means it about not being sweet and all (like the bondage thing didn’t let us in on that little tidbit). Then she pauses right in the middle of the song to take a long swig from what might be an innocent water bottle or could be one of those high-end boutique vodka decanters, not sure. All that walking and looking at tied-up men has gotten her a little parched, poor thing.

  Gabriella gets back in that red chair so she can waggle her finger at us and continue having mussy hair, then she strolls around some more because we haven’t finished the tour of her torture boudoir. In this segment of our program, she introduces us to a man sitting up to his neck in a packing crate, covered in that shredded packing stuff that gets everywhere no matter how much you try to control things. (Did Gabriella order him from Crate & Barrel? I guess I haven’t seen that particular catalog.)

  First, Gabriella steals his sunglasses and puts them on her own head, so she’s a thief as well as a somewhat lazy and dried-out dominatrix. Then, horror of horrors, she up and pours the rest of her vodka water all over his asymmetrical-haircut head (which actually makes him look kind of hot, but we’ll save that story for another bedtime.)

  Satisfied with her wet works, Gabriella turns and heads back to the band, sashaying past yet another guy who has been duct-taped to the floor, making him look like a giant, metallic burrito. She doesn’t bother to mess with him, so he must not be her favorite toy at the moment. Or maybe that’s just what turns him on, being ignored and then later getting handed out the window at a Taco Bell drive-thru.

  We wind down the song with Gabriella alternately sitting in her anemia chair and wandering through her band members. Just to catch us up on the things, the camera gives us quick shots all over the room to show us that, yep, girl done got her a bunch of wet men tied up around here. Then, because she’s worked really hard for at least three minutes straight and deserves a break, Gabriella plops down her microphone and heads out.

  But not before she stops at that hanging-upside-down guy, climbs on a box so she can reach the pulley and so we can see her cool-looking boots, and then she unloosens a knot so he can crash to the floor on his head.

  I guess she needed the rope.


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Lady Gaga - “You And I”

  We start out with Gaga marching down a dusty road, decked out in some tribute-to-Skeletor getup, complete with coordinated veils and death mask. Seems girl has been trudging down that road for some time, long enough that her feet are all bloody and she’s got a bit of an attitude. But before we can tell her “honey, if you’d just take those eight-inch heels off it wouldn’t be so bad” we whisk to another.. I’m not sure what it is.

  And then the images and costume changes start flying. Somebody’s hiking up her skirt, some corpses are getting married, something about fingernails, melting ice cream cones, ugly street vendors, possible cattle-prod usage and public tinkling. Gaga goes at it all with gusto, in that amazing knack she has of creating startling but mesmerizing images that may not mean anything but she’s having such a hell of a good time that you’re right there with her.

  Anyway, the song proper starts, and we’re back with the original Gaga character, she of the black veils, now standing in the middle of what passes for an intersection in Podunk, Nebraska. She poses for a while, because her outfit is really striking and we need to study all of it, then she starts prancing around with an attitude, sashaying, while at the same time trying to fix one of her arms that has apparently short-circuited. Then she throws down a black rose and goes stomping toward an ice cream truck, which is exactly where I would go if my arm was making buzzing noises and didn’t have any flesh.

  Cut to another Gaga, this one wearing very little makeup and playing a piano in the middle of a cornfield at night. Sitting on top of said piano is Jo Calderone, the alter ego that Gaga has created as a means to… well, the jury’s still out on that one. But kudos to the special effects person that blended these two into the scene. You really believe that Jo is right there, smoking cigarettes and guzzling beer while Gaga bops her head dangerously close to Jo’s crotch. They look sweet together.

  We spend a little time with them, because when you stumble across a piano from the corn rather than a child, you might as well make the best of it. (We get some jump shots of Black Veil Gaga stomping around on those roads, but she doesn’t seem to know where she’s going so we can check back on her later.) While Gaga tinkles, this time with the piano keys and not herself, Jo does manly things like spit and grab at his crotch and not bathe.

  Hold up, more whirring images again. Some shirtless guy (good costume choice, sayin) is messing around with Gaga dressed as a severe RuPaul angel, another shirtless guy (or maybe the same, we’re just seeing torsos here, fine by me) is kissing a Gaga dressed as a dead nurse, and there’s something about a barn. Then we’re back to the RuPaul angel, and Shirtless is fiddling with chemistry-set looking things while RuPaul tries not to be eaten alive by her costume.

  And the possible barn theme is confirmed when we cut to a Green-Haired Gaga leading a line dance. (It’s just not a Gaga video without one.) Leave it to Gaga to all out hoof it up in a big production number involving horse stalls and haylofts. She and her girl posse flop around for a bit, stirring up dust that probably doesn’t feel good once it’s trapped under those leather outfits they are all barely wearing.

  While the Horsey Hoes pivot and twirl, we drop by one of the other set pieces in the video for a status update. RuPaul appears to be getting her mouth oiled by Shirtless, followed by something to do with an old-timey hypodermic being shoved into RuRu’s neck and causing her to…

  Turn into a mermaid? I think. All that’s certain is that we now have Gaga as FishWoman, reclining in an antique bathtub that would probably run you 25K at Restoration Hardware, while Shirtless is dumping pails of water on her. (He’s a very busy boy.) She’s also managed to lose her top somewhere along the line, testing the patience of censors with the creative use of a tiny strip of mer-flesh that just barely covers her nipples. (What’s the point, at this point, about even bothering to hide the points? Just asking.)

  Back to the Horsey Hoes and their Equus tribute. Everybody’s still hunching the hay with complete professionalism, showing no signs of stopping, so we can just let them be for now, although at some point they’ll need to find another place to dance because the cows are due for milking shortly. Bessie don’t play when it’s pail time.

  And we visit with Mer-Gaga once more, to find that she is hopelessly devoted to her breasts, caressing them with a love that usually only takes place on certain pay-per-view channels. We also have some mess with Shirtless shoving a gas mask at her, but there’s already so much going on that we’ll just let that go for now.

  Oh, look, it’s time for another montage. Black Veil Gaga is still stomping around that dusty intersection, so I’m not sure that she’s being all that productive. Mer-Gaga is splashing around in her tub in a manner that would have had me sent to my room as a youngster. And Jo and Plain Gaga are still mooning at each other under the harvest moon in the cornfield without children.

  Then the pace kicks up even more, and the jump cuts are too numerous to mention. Suffice it to say that, in general, Shirtless is really invested in transforming Gaga into something else. We’re just not sure what that else might be or exactly which Gaga he is working on at any given time, especially since some new Gagas start cropping up, like Black-Haired Gaga who seems to be doing aerobics in front of a giant wooden wheel while wearing a leftover Barbarella outfit.

  Hold-up, soft-porn alert. Shirtless and his tattoos are gettin’ busy with one of the Gagas, probably Mer-Gaga if you base it on breast-identification. But before the loosely-draped towel on his behind slides off like we want it to, we go back to that damn montage. Now we have images of splashing water, Plain Gaga leading a line dance in the cornfield (you knew it was coming), and a shot of Jo spitting off the back of the piano (how nice of him/her).

  Next we have another teasing snippet of that towel sliding lower on Shirtless, then scenes of Black Veil Gaga still not finding what she’s looking for, more cornfield choreography, Plain Gaga playing the piano with her foot, self-loving mermaids, questionable aerobics, religious references involving the signs of the cross and some hair gel, and a very convincing trick shot of Gaga kissing herself via Jo.

  Did I mention that things were a little busy in this video? Yep, they be.

  Oh, I almost forgot about the Horsey Hoes. We check in on them a few times, including a startling scene where Green-Haired Gaga has apparently managed to get herself stuck high up on a really aggressive stripper pole, and the other Hoes race up a convenient staircase to cut her down. Or something like that. It may have just been a political statement of some kind.

  Brief interlude where Shirtless is sitting around in flimsy, soaking-wet pajama bottoms while Mer-Gaga throws more water on him, then the montage fires up again. Barbarella Gaga is having some type of reaction to shellfish, Plain Gaga suddenly decides it would be fun to run a marathon in the cornfield, Dead-Nurse Gaga is still getting married or some such in the most confusing scenario of many confusing scenarios, and the towel finally gives it up and we get a partial booty shot of Shirtless atop Mer-Gaga. (Pause at 5:08, for those who roll that way, sayin.)

  The tilt-a-whirl finally starts to slow down, and we’re back with Black Veil Gaga, still on that road to nowhere, warbling the slower end of the song. The music fades, and we get one last look at Shirtless and Mer-Gaga, all cozy in their bathtub of lust, a glimpse of Dead-Nurse Gaga and her apparent groom, and a lonely, abandoned farmhouse where little boys and girls used to dream of growing up one day and doing whatever the hell they wanted and people would love them anyway…


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David Cook - “Fade Into Me”

  Note: This one is mostly concert footage mixed with David walking around some apparently deserted city (these things can be arranged when you have money) so we’ll have to do the timestamp thing…

0:02  Series of shots concerning lonely roads, farmland, livestock and what might have been a quick glimpse of a violated scarecrow. Or it might have been my third-grade teacher, she had that same look.

0:08 Random red tractor which is probably not the important part of the video.

0:14  David walking along a riverbank and rockin’ that neo-grunge look he’s perfected. In the distance is some type of fortress where they lock up people who misbehave at concerts. You have been warned.

0:23  Blurry images of people waiting to get into one of those concerts. Or maybe there was a really good sale on toaster ovens, not clear.

0:32  Somebody working at a giant control panel, which probably determines the best times for Kim Kardashian to pull off another pointless publicity stunt.

0:36  David and friend rush out the back door of some place they probably shouldn’t have been. I’m guessing adult video store.

0:41  Odd train going backwards.

0:45  David and band hold small church revival. Cable TV must have been on the fritz.

0:53  Blurry images of enraptured concert audience begging David to sweat in their direction.

1:06  Is that a UFO landing near the drummer?

1:10  Arty black-and-white shot of David channeling Roy Orbison.

1:14  Shadow footage of giant dog being swallowed by a brick building. (Seriously, play it again, what else could that be?)

1:18  Shot of David’s boot, which qualifies it for membership in the Screen Actor’s Guild.

1:24  David stupidly walks on train tracks, because nothing bad ever happens when you do that, right? (I guess he hasn’t seen the opening scenes of Fried Green Tomatoes, eh?)

1:31  David is forced to sit on fire escape because the hotel management frowns upon singing in the rooms.

1:36  Encore performance by Roy Orbison.

1:43  More walking on the train tracks. Dude, seriously, get your ass out of there. You only think you can outrun those things.

1:54  David makes possible obscene gesture using guitar. Horniness of audience, already at fever pitch, goes to 11.

2:05  David inexplicably refuses to use flight of stone steps and instead opts for balancing on the crumbling concrete railing. Alcohol most likely involved.

2:11  Bus arrives with another shipment of screaming fans, because original fans have to stop screaming after eight hours due to union rules.

2:18  What the hell is that expression for? Is David giving birth? To a Toyota?

2:28  Must be a long labor, poor guy.

2:43  Giant sign on stage lets us know that this is a David Cook concert, in case you wandered in here mistakenly, looking for the tri-county tractor pull.

2:55  David misunderstands the basics of patty cake, missing both the rhythm and a partner.

3:06  David surveys bridge that he might buy, just because he can. Decides to pass when the color doesn’t match his sunshades.

3:14  David poses somewhere with people that I don’t know. One of them is wearing a Cheap Trick t-shirt, so there might have been a misunderstanding at some point. Old-school Kenny Loggins makes an appearance on far right.

3:22  Banished David on fire escape finishes song, wonders if he’s allowed to go back into the hotel yet.

3:27  Childbirth David seems to have recovered quite well, already back down to pre-pregnancy weight.

3:32  Roy Orbison David turns out to not look like Roy at all in close-up. My bad.

3:34  Things wind down with a visual tribute to R.E.M. and Talking Heads videos. Editor gets inside-joke high-five, even if he didn’t realize he was doing that.


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Maroon 5 - “Sunday Morning”

  We start out with a mystifying close-up of glossy lips, then things shuffle around a bit until we realize that we are in a Japanese karaoke bar, with folks singing along to a previous Maroon 5 hit (imagine that). The people singing, although stylish and well-dressed, are not really all that good, so thankfully somebody puts a quarter in a jukebox, we get more odd images of light bulbs and random fruit, and then a still shot of a very sad little girl.

  Just as I’m wondering who in the hell she is, a title credit pops up under her with “Sunday Morning”. Well, no wonder she’s sad. Poor thing has been named after a Maroon 5 song, and no one will play with her.

  Another stream of scattered images (somebody in the editing room needs to stop drinking so much coffee), a brief shot of a different karaoke bar, and then we plunk down in Abbey Road studios, “3 months earlier”. This means nothing, but at least Adam is there, looking dapper in a prep-school outfit so we have something to look at until someone shows up with an explanation.

  He warbles for a bit, and the camera pans around and lets us review the other band members. (Hey wait, that one dude looks like he could be the dad of the sad little girl. Same hair, anyway. And he looks like the type of person that would name a child incorrectly.) Adam really seems to be enjoying himself, although it’s a little strange to see him just standing there instead of bouncing around the stage like he usually does. Maybe that sweater he’s wearing is really, really heavy.)

  Off we go with another stream of whatever images (stereo knobs, flowers, those starting-to-get-creepy glossy lips), then we land in a karaoke bar again. It’s a really fancy one, with people in evening wear and such, singing along with Adam. (Wow, look at the size of the mouth on that one girl. She’s got to be in a record book somewhere.) Sad little girl is back on the video monitor, singing as well, so she must be feeling a little better. Maybe she heard that SpongeBob got picked up for another season.

  Back to the band in the studio, with them focused on jamming and not on getting their hair cut. The camera comes at Adam from several different views, confirming that the little bastard looks good from any angle, damn him. Then we zip over to the karaoke bar again, where practically everyone has a microphone, and they all seem to be having a tremendous amount of fun, especially when there’s a mirror nearby where they can admire themselves.

  Studio once more, as the band rolls into the really jazzy part of the song, inspiring Adam to finally do some of his trademark stage moves, with him bouncing around like somebody left his underwear in the dryer too long. We stay with this scene for a while, with only a few interruptions from those streaming snippets of body parts and granola bars, as Adam gets down with his bad self.

  Back to the karaoke bar, where now we have everybody in the entire place belting the song, a sure sign that everybody has satisfied their drink-minimum requirement up in this grill. They’re all swaying to the song and hanging on to each other, which means this is the opportune time to get out of here because the parking lot will soon be crammed with drunken fools trying to figure out where their cars might be.

  And that’s pretty much it for the rest of the video. Adam really gets into the lyrics (especially that extended bit where he gets to holla “oh, YEAH, yeah!” about 75 times), the band members do band things, and the karaoke crowd has turned into one big family where everybody loves everybody else with that tequila-fueled kind of affection, a deep and lasting bond that disintegrates the next morning when you wake up with a swollen tongue and strange phone numbers crammed in your pocket.


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