Monster Magnet, "Space Lord"

I'm in Vegas, B*tch!  

THE VIDEO Monster Magnet, "Space Lord," Powertrip, 1998, A&M SAMPLE LYRIC "Well I sing ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh / Space lord mother mother! / Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh / Space lord mother mother!"

THE VERDICT I know. This video is from nineteen-ninety-freakin'-eight. It's well outside the purview of Headbanger's Ball (which met its maker three years prior). Not only that, it has the ignominious distinction of having been the first video ever played on TRL. (Not that that kind of popularity is always a bad thing — I mean, think how many videos I've featured were really popular on Dial MTV back in the day! 'Memba that one?) 

So why am I do doing this? Welllll, because I'm getting married in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada, and this was the only metal (or even metal-ish) video I could come up with that is in Vegas. Which is weird when you think about it, given how many music videos take place in Vegas. Rock videos, pop videos, pop-rap videos — in terms of U.S. cities, it probably comes in third, after L.A. and New York (the only possible contender I can even think of for third place would be Miami, or like if you counted Brooklyn videos separately from Manhattan ones). 

Anyway. This video is pretty beloved, but everyone seems to forget Monster Magnet pulled this trick not once but twice — "Powertrip" is more or less the same idea, using slightly different hip-hop video conventions (inflated suits, tunnels). I think it's mainly that this one was such a surprise at the time, especially because of how it starts out.

 

I mean, before things really get going, this video plays not only with the conventions of hip-hop videos of the time, but also of dark/nu metal videos. I mean, the whole first verse, when the music's still pretty quiet, could be from any of a number of videos, with the faces coming in and out of the light, and all the fog flying around, and of course the super-wrinkly old people (hello, "The Unforgiven," I'm looking at you). I think the skinny kid with "Mother" written on his chest is a nod at "Jeremy," just like, while they're at it. 

You just have to kind of ignore the fact that if you're paying attention, Dave Wyndorf is already wearing a big ol' chain and a purple vinyl suit. (While you're at it, ignore the guitarist's raver attire, with the big pigtail buns and giant sunglasses, even if it kind of reminds me of Edge and Christian. Late 90s fashion was baaad. For real, no nostalgia there.) 

But dang, when suddenly the black backdrop falls down behind them and you really see Dave's suit, you have to admit it's pretty freakin' badass. Not to mention all the dancers. I feel like nowadays you'd expect them to be more implant-y and dressed more provocatively, but they are totally correct for the time, with their monochrome metallic getups. 

In fact, they're basically the exact outfits worn in Ma$e's video for "Feel So Good," which this video grabs almost all its shots from. It's actually kind of amazing how exactly they recreate parts of it. The biggest difference is Ma$e has more girls throwing around money, and he actually gets to shoot inside the casino. 

So where are they in this video? Same as Ma$e — Monster Magnet aren't on the Strip. By relocating to Fremont Street and the Plaza, they've gotten a hotel that's willing to scroll their band's name on its marquee (and let them shoot off a ton of pyro), so we can't knock 'em for that. It also gives them this cool ceiling-of-lights thing to shoot under, so I like that. You can't imitate the Hype Williams style without a lot of lights and a fisheye lens. I enjoy Dave's lightbulb-covered suit as well. Especially the fact that you can visibly see where it's plugged in. Any shots where you can see his legs, you can also see the cord.

 

Okay ew, the part where Twiggy from Marilyn Manson is suddenly there, no thanks. Sorry, but I am just not a Manson fan. But I appreciate that it was critical that they include a sequence in the video where Dave drives a Pontiac Firebird down a street where it looks like it just finished raining, accentuating all the lights. Again, it's just Fremont, not the Strip, but it still looks good. You've got to appreciate the old Vegas, not just the new stuff. 

I also enjoy though that they aren't even driving on a road — I'm pretty sure this is enclosed now, as part of the Fremont Street Experience (it actually already might have been at the time this was shot, they just aren't lighting the 'ceiling'). So this video has a bigger budget than its non-Strip location might make one think — given that there aren't people gawking at them from the slot machines, Monster Magnet actually closed off like, all of Fremont to make this video happen. 

My guess is they're filming in the middle of the night, but still. Everything in Vegas is open 24 hours, and so there are probably people who want to be in whatever place you're trying to shoot your video 24 hours a day too. 

So given what we've seen in this video, am I going to be cavorting with dancers, wearing crazy suits, making it rain? Umm, no, pretty much the opposite. I'm stoked to see my friends, but as I've said in previous weeks, weddings are awful, kids. Trust me on this one. 

P.S.: I totally realize that the biggest event in metal this week has been the untimely death of Jani Lane. But I have had these wedding-related posts planned out forever, so I'm sorry, but I have to go through with it. Post-wed, it's Jani tribute time all the way.

Bang Tango, "Someone Like You"

Low-Budget Done Right  

THE VIDEO Bang Tango, "Someone Like You," Psycho Café, 1989, Mechanic

SAMPLE LYRIC "With someone / sommmmmme-one / well there's someone just like youuuuuuuuuuuu / oh-ohhhhhh I nee-eed some-wuh-un / to take away the bluuuuuuuuuuuue" 

THE VERDICT Bang Tango are one of those bands that create a lot of contention. People who want to claim them as glam point out that they're a SoCal band (LA by way of San Diego) and I mean come on, got discovered at Gazzari's. 

People who want to say that they're not glam and got unfairly lumped in with glam (unscrupulous and money-hungry A&R men and blabla, whine-whine, we've heard that old chestnut a million times) point to the fact that they don't sound much like other glam acts. 

But come on guys, let's think about it? Who do they sound like? Well to me, Bang Tango sound a heck of a lot like the Cult! Sure, Joe Lesté doesn't have as deep of a voice or as obvious of a Jim Morrison fetish as Ian Astbury does, but honestly, he doesn't really fall outside this vein either. (And do both of them sort of look/sound like Glenn Danzig? Yup, they do.) 

I feel like both the singles on Psycho Café more or less sound to me like tighter, slightly poppier Cult songs. I don't mean this in a pejorative way at all, by the way — this is, by all evidence, a pretty good way to sound. 

(While I'm semi-on-the-subject, can I mention that Psycho Café is an incredibly lame album title, and probably not helping anything? Though I do wonder if it is at such a cafe that one could be served a Psychotic Supper.) 

But oh yeah, as I was saying, or at least implying anyway, this song rocks. Yes, Lesté gets a little screechy sometimes, but this is a really good, straightforward gritty-LA-pop-metal song. It's no surprise that Lesté later does vocal duties for LA Guns for a while — other than the Cult connection (which also likely comes in because all the dudes in Bang Tango are really pale and goth-looking), this song in particular I could totally hear the LA Guns doing. 

All that said, of course our purpose here is to look at the video. And in this case — congratulations are in order for Bang Tango. This video is really showing how it's done, in terms of having a low-budget video that's still really visually appealing. 

They didn't waste their money on swaths of fabric (which face it, always looks cheap), and they didn't rely on shooting it in black and white (which only sometimes makes a video seem artistic, and more often just makes it look like they're trying too hard).

 

No. Instead, all that we really see in this video is the various members of Bang Tango standing around playing the song amidst a whole bunch of different neon lights. And it totally, totally works. The high contrast between the neon and the dark background, and between the neon and these dudes' extreme paleness, makes the visuals really pop. 

It also calls to mind all the shots of LA at night that you often see in Sunset Strip metal videos. You know, like shots of pawn shops and bodegas and strip clubs with neon signs. Even the sillier things in this video, like swinging the camera around in a rapid circle, totally work. It makes the video feel hectic and intense, rather than the usual "these special effects aren't very special." 

I also like that the neon sort of stripes make this feel very 80s, even though this is the end of the 80s. Let's face it though, the beginning of any decade is really more or less still the one before it. I can make a good argument for the 90s not really beginning until like 1993, and similarly for the 70s not really ending until 1982 or so. 

But yeah, all the neon feels very Miami Vice (arguably my favorite way to feel!), and sort of bridges the gap between colorful 80s aesthetics and the more toned down, late 80s/early 90s look Bang Tango are going for. They've got a style that's somewhere in between the Cult and like, Faster Pussycat — lots of black, lots of layering, and lots of crosses, but with the occasional dandaical touch (bassist Kyle Kyle's Manic Panic hair). 

I know it was too late at this point for all those videos that came before. But really, this video had to show those other guys that if they could turn back time, they should've probably skipped all the like, weird modifications to late-model sedans, and foam rubber dragons, and walls made out of tin-foil, and just invested in some neon lights. Turns out that's all it takes to make a darn fine video.

Slaughter, "Up All Night"

Who Killed 80s Metal?

THE VIDEO Slaughter, "Up All Night," Stick It to Ya, 1990, Chrysalis

Click here to watch this video NOW!

SAMPLE LYRIC "[Awake from dusk till dawn] / watcheeeng the sceeeeeeene at niiii-iiiii-iiiight / [stars are shining down] / they'lllllllll be shining down on you and I / and I'll hold you till the mornnnnnnning liiiiiiii-iiiiiiiight / Everybody sing it now! / Up! All! Night! / Sleep all day!"

EXCESSIVELY DETAILED DESCRIPTION This video opens with dramatic footage of a fiery sun setting behind clouds, which transitions into a Frederic Church-esque sunset shown from beneath.

We go from these picturesque scenes to a uh, well, it's a metal barrel or trashcan with a fire burning in it, an behind it we can see a tall slim woman walking two Doberman Pinschers. We then see the back of a leather jacket with the word "stick" clearly legible in metal studs. A person passes in front of the camera, and we see a man in jeans and a fedora and a woman wearing a skirt and boots both sitting on either a broken-down couch or just piles of something against a brick wall. Based on the light projected onto the wall behind them, they seem to be sitting beside a swimming pool (they're not, but it's that kind of wiggly light).

A bunch of red neon lights squiggle past, then we see a man in a suit standing next to a sign in the shape of a Chinese or Japanese character reflected in a car window. The window rolls down to briefly reveal a strangely lit, bored-looking woman. We cut to a black and white shot of a boot tapping on the floor, then see from above the man opening the car's door and the woman's legs sliding out.

The woman who was sitting against the wall takes off the guy's hat and puts it on herself, doing a sassy turn. She's wearing a sort of cropped blazer over a very full knee-length skirt -- it's almost like, you know, in case you forgot it's 1989, there's your cue. She shakes her butt, and the camera pans down and shows the reflection of this in a puddle. Then we see the woman, having gotten out of the car, stepping pretty much out of frame.

Finally, the song starts, and we get some quickly cut together shots of Blas Elias and Tim Kelly before what can only be Mark Slaughter's stunt double jumps off of a riser and lands to do a somersault while Dana Strum jumps across his path.

The (probably) real Mark proceeds to start doing some wussy dancing, which we see for a little while. The band are playing in one of those sets where it's like a warehouse full of random crap piled up -- you know there’s a giant fan in there somewhere, a lot of large discarded signs, and probably Janet Jackson's Rhythm Nation warming up in one of the other rooms.



We cut to a shot of a slithery woman's legs in a long, sheer skirt, before coming back to see Blas standing up to bang on some cymbals hanging overhead before Mark starts singing. He grips the mic stand with one hand and focuses much energy on looking steamy, which is hard when you sing in a falsetto. Cut to a rain-spattered sidewalk, following stilleto'd legs walking the pair of Dobermans. We briefly see a black and white shot of a woman rubbing her head and looking positively orgasmic, but it's mostly just Slaughter dancing around.

Then we go to a spotlit woman dancing around in the rain on a fire escape. She's whipping her hair everywhere, but mostly arching her back and rubbing her studded leather bustier thing (it reminds me of when Beavis and Butt-head watch the Danger Danger video for "Naughty Naughty," and they see a sexy silhouette of a woman, and Beavis says something like, "Whoa, Butt-head check out that chick! I think she's hurt or something, her back's all bent out of shape!" and Butt-head says, "No, dumbass when a chick's got her back all bent like that it means she's hot." Same era, same idea).

A guitar is strummed, Mark pouts, and as Blas tosses his mane to the back we can for the first time see the bass drums propped on their sides behind him: "Stick It to Ya" and "This Space for Rent." What, Slaughter lame? Anyway, we’re back in the alley with that girl dancing around. She's taken off her jacket to reveal a satiny bra. This makes the backlit Slaughter (sorry, Mark Slaughter that is!) shake his hair back and forth, while a square grid of lights to one side of him keeps turning on and off.

Leather bustier woman goes nuts in some steamy fog, and then Mark does the lamest dance ever (it's like a slightly more metal version of the cabbage patch). We then see a woman with a truly prodigious amount of blonde hair wearing a suit with truly prodigious shoulder pads. She spins to walk toward… a ton of water spraying out of something, maybe an opened hydrant.

Back at the mic, Mark smiles a lot (it's the shot that always gets used when VH-1 is like "Slaughter were the lameasses who ruined metal for everyone," which they always sort of claim). He bops around and semi-mimes the lyrics while the rest of the band sing along. Have I mentioned yet that he is wearing ripped jeans, a white tank top, and a black leather vest? No? Well, he is.

Next we see a red-lipped blonde in black sunglasses in front of the neon signs from earlier. Soon after, we see her defending her satiny skirt from a sudden, very low to the ground gust of wind. The guy by the wall coughs and stands up, while the now fully jacketless brunette dances on. Her one move seems to be holding her arms by her head while she gyrates her hips. The guy goes and stands by himself. Slaughter continue goofing off and sort of rocking out, and that blonde (who now has caught hold of her dress) gives the camera a look, and we see the leather bustier girl, all worn out, leaning against a wall by a different neon sign. Oh, nope, now she’s dancing around in the fog again. Never mind.



The band members all sing along, and the shoulderpad lady walks her dogs in silhouette while water sprays behind her. A couple pass in front of her as she appears to walk through a construction site. The bustier lady is back on her fire escape, and apparently it's raining again. Slaughter seem to redouble their efforts at screaming "Up all night!" with as much vigor and passion as possible, the camera cutting between them so itis like Blas yells "up" and shakes his hair, then Mark yells "all" and grins, and Dana yells "night!" and tosses his hair.

As we head toward the solo and Mark's wish to stay up 24 hours a day, we see a guy in jeans and one of those horrible haircuts every man in America had at some point between 1988 and 1992 -- you know, shaved to the ears, and long on top. Hideous. He tries to follow the blonde and her Dobies. She blows him off, and he does a very exaggerated spin and kick that puts me in mind of like, every commercial for everything from the early 90s and also begs the question, are those Bugle Boy jeans he's wearing? (If you're thinking of clicking that bad boy, scroll to the bottom paragraph to see where I was going with that one.) Mark spins and the guy does an additional fruitless kick before the solo begins.

During the solo, we see more shots of the two main women, plus lots of Mark and Dana headbanging in tandem. They even let Mark hold a guitar. Blas pouts ridiculously, and in some shots Mark has the guitar while in others he's just high-stepping and pumping his fist. Everyone spins their guitars around their necks, and Mark does his cabbage patch dance again. The leather bustier woman appears to be reaching the height of ecstasy out there on her fire escape.

As they reprise the chorus, all women in the video give the camera knowing looks, and the blonde continues to lead her dogs through the construction even though a big rig is coming up behind them and yet another fire hydrant explodes. Mark shares his microphone with his bandmates, who at this point (and who can blame them? They've probably been doing it for hours) are just screaming "up all night!" with their mouths wide open. Both Dana and Tim have like, spasms where they stare at their guitars and then jerk their heads back, jaws agape.

The song concludes with Mark pumping his fist one last time. We see Blas' actual bass drum with the band's logo on it, then the leather bustier lady calming down and stepping away from the camera, then we pan across a puddle to find the girl and guy now sitting peaceably together beside the brick wall. The chauffeur dude gets back in the front seat of the car and closes the door, and after he slams it we see clouds racing across the sky, followed by the sun rising once more.



THE VERDICT Slaughter are a pretty horrible band, but I am going to go out on a limb here and note that this is not that bad of a song. Okay, except for the very beginning and the end -- the kids singing "America the Beautiful" are both annoying and pointless, as are the sirens and crap, although those are at least like "night noises" or what have you. But anyway yeah, I don't think this is a terrible song. It's very accessible. I like the verses fairly well. Mark Slaughter's voice is, as always, a bit high-pitched for my taste, but since this is sort of a scream-along song, it doesn’t matter too much.

Now I recognize and I admit that at at least one time in the not-so-distant past, I made a statement to the effect that if I could time travel, I would go to 1990 to get on Mark Slaughter. These were, clearly, ill-advised remarks, as Slaughter are hella lame (even if Mark himself is honestly, not a bad looking guy and in fact, seems to get better looking with age). This is really their only half-decent song, and if reports are true, they're basically all assholes (or at the least, Dana and Blas are. Mark's their pawn, and well, Tim's dead, so you can’t really criticize him).

On these reports, I can't really comment, but on the oft-made observation that Slaughter somehow were the death knell of great 80s metal I will. In a nutshell: They weren't. Yes, they tried to get away with wearing flannel shirts whilst incorporating the overall aesthetic of Guess? Jeans ads. Yes, Mark's a cute kid. But honestly, this is not what killed 80s metal. Nirvana's Nevermind isn't even what killed it.

What killed it was the insane glut of abominably crappy bands signed during the period when every record company's A&R guys were just looking for any act with a lot of hair and a lead singer with decent cheekbones, thinking that those two factors were what was making records sell -- truly pathetic tripe merchants like Shotgun Messiah, Vain, Babylon AD, Dangerous Toys, Bulletboys, and Danger Danger (jeez – mentioning them twice in one writeup), to name a very few (many thanks to this amazing site, which does an awesome job of actually finding information on some pretty thankless bands). I would argue 110% that it was hideous acts like these (which make mid-level bands like White Lion seem like visionaries and true artists) that brought mighty metal to its knees, not Mark Slaughter's chipper dance moves.