Ah, the heady days of 1984. MTV was still new, and high-concept music videos were still considered the first step in the slippery slope of ‘selling out’ by bands who had barely begun to think of things like branding or those pesky morality clauses in their L’Oreal contracts. Production budgets were slim, digital cameras non-existent, and every band trying to maintain a shred of street cred hoped that Tim Pope was available to shoot a quirky, not-too-commercial video for them.
Talk Talk has always been one of my favourite bands. Most music snobs will claim that their later albums, like Laughing Stock, or lead singer Mark Hollis’ 1998 solo album, are their best, but I’m not ashamed to admit that I love their early albums – particularly It’s My Life – the most. When it comes to pop music, I’m a sucker for layered production.
Anyway.
Poor old Mark Hollis was a ‘serious’ musician. He famously hated the trappings of pop music: The interviews, the wardrobe – and the music videos. But in 1984 the record companies were in charge, and they said music videos were mandatory. For Talk Talk’s second album, this resulted first in the video for ‘It’s My Life’, full of stock footage and a defiantly non-singing singer. It’s a great song, but the video…meh. The second video, on the other hand (for ‘Such a Shame’), was another story.
I don’t know how Tim Pope got Mark Hollis to ‘perform’ for this video, but it was an effective strategy. Hollis looks less like a curmudgeon and more like the pop star everyone wanted him to be. It’s an enjoyable video and it makes the song much more accessible than it is with audio alone.
What’s more interesting to me now, 30 years later, is that the video doesn’t look dated at all. While it’s hard not to cringe watching other videos of the same era, full of Cindy Crawford-type models and unfortunate 80s wardrobe, the video for ‘Such a Shame’ wouldn’t be out of place on a YouTube top 100 list today. The art direction, the wardrobe (well, give or take a couple of pairs of high-waisted jeans in the background), the concept – it’s as good as any Tegan & Sara indie-pop video circa 2013.
But it’s the way Hollis interacts with the camera that makes the video feel so contemporary. Instead of trying to create a cheesy ‘storyline’ or create some kind of pop-star persona, he just lipsyncs into the camera, and you can almost hear Tim Pope’s direction: “Yeah, I know you hate this, Mark, and the last thing you want is to be stuck on set all day lipsyncing the same song over and over again. So why don’t we just run through the song, say, 5 times, and you can do each one in a different mood. Just be yourself.”
So Mark’s not pretending the camera’s not there, he’s not pretending that he’s just being captured in a natural moment, but he’s making it obvious that he’s pretending these different moods – and he’s letting you know that he knows he has an audience, and that that audience knows he’s pretending. In fact, it may be the first deconstructionist and self-reflexive music video of the modern era. It led to videos like this, and it’s the reason the ‘Gangnam Style’ video has 1.6 billion views. ‘Gangnam Style’ isn’t the best pop song ever, and it isn’t even the best music video ever. It’s popular because it makes it clear that it knows it’s ridiculous, and invites the audience to join in the ridiculousness.
Why is this so interesting? Because it’s a good metaphor for the way marketing communications have changed in the past 30 years. Marketing types talk a lot about ‘transparency’ these days, but what they really mean is ‘self-reflexivity’. In order to be successful, brands need to know how they’re perceived by their stakeholders, and then acknowledge that perception – even if it’s not entirely positive. When Rogers runs ads about how great their prices and service are, the audience just rolls their collective eyes and tunes out, because the message is so blatantly untrue and verging on the delusional. When Kotex runs ads acknowledging that most advertising of feminine hygiene products is ridiculous, on the other hand, they earn credibility – and they do a better job of engaging their target.
You never knew you could learn so much from some synth-pop 80s video, did you?