How much time do you have?
Stylus Magazine lists its 100 top music videos and has the video — and commentary, like this:
I’d always been puzzled to see “Addicted to Love” consistently included on Greatest Videos of All-Time lists. And yet here we are including it. And here I am writing about it. The video itself contains slightly more motion than a still picture—the sexless “sexy” mannequins scissor their legs and bop in place slightly, Palmer looks like he’s thinking about a latte or his doctor’s appointment, and the camera “work” consists of focusing in on small details of the non-event. Occasionally. “Hey, look her fingers are really touching those bass strings.” Yes, now if only the thing were plugged into the amp. At the time, people found this offensive. Today it’s just vapid and lacking in any kind of eroticism—but therein lies its greatness. Any time we’re indulging in character-destroying nostalgia for the era, all we need to do is see this video and we’ll quickly remember everything awful about the 80’s. Consider it thy medication and be cleansed.
Addicted to Love is number 96. Or like number 34:
There is no shortage of music videos filmed in black and white because the creators thought it was an easy way to seem cool or serious. There is a severe shortage of music videos filmed in black and white because the creators understood how it could underscore and enrich the minimalism in the music. From Busta Rhymes to Lil’ Jon, rap videos have often assaulted the eyes with 90 frames-per-minute of sugar-fried madness, a kitchen sink style that certainly has its charm. But it can look a little childish and silly compared to “Drop It Like It’s Hot,” a series of images so serene and smooth that it feels like drinking champagne while sitting on a velvet piano bench around a frozen swimming pool on the deck of a penthouse overlooking the city at midnight during winter.
And the antidote to Walk the Line (the film), number 2:
“You stay the hell away from me, you hear?” Even before American Recordings proved it beyond all doubt, JC’ was a man with two careers in parallel: one bringing the poignancy, the other novelty tunes like “One Piece at a Time,” and that one where he does an impression of a guy being hung. So how better to close his career than by dovetailing the two: a novelty cover version paired with a video featuring poignancy laid on so thick as to crush your heart through sheer persistence. Cash as Jesus, Cash as the pouting rebel, Cash the American, Cash as America personified, Cash the husband, Cash the man in black, Cash the guy who sold records in their droves, Cash the lonely, scared, dying old man. It’s hard to imagine there could have been a better way to close the piano lid on his career.