A brief diatribe on the music video.

The idea that music and images are interdependent, yet also interrelated, dates back from centuries in the past. From paintings depicting the iconography of seventeenth and eighteenth century dance scenes, with town waits trumpeting and family musicians playing keyboard in the home, to opera and film score, music is constantly evoking images, accompanying them, and enhancing them, and the reverse is also true: images inspire music. So although the modern music videos on MTV, VH-1, etc. often seem totally ostentatious and superfluous (popular musicians with big hairdos, bigger wallets, and the biggest egos,) there really is a historical precedence for this phenomena.

All that being said, I now feel comfortable admitting that I enjoy well-made music videos, as I know many of my friends will agree with me. In fact, I suspect that many people enjoy the music video format not just as a light, under-four-minute-long diversion, but as an art form in itself, or in the least, a magnification of or another perspective on the music that appeals to us so much. Some of us simply like to see the faces and gestures of the personalities behind the sounds we listen to; I am always curious to see what things look like when the veil held up by my imagination is lifted. Other people like to have a story drawn out on the screen to guide them through the emotional journey of the song or to bring out the humor. Either way, the idea of the music video should find a way to appeal to anyone; people who are interested in art, animation, or cinema likewise should enjoy the format from their own artistic perspectives.

It is interesting to note that certain creative and analytical inconsistencies do exits within the music video format: in-congruencies between the music and the art. For this example I will be discussing a recent DVD of music videos released by the musical group Death Cab for Cutie, titled DIRECTIONS. In its introduction, the band members of D.C.F.C. explain that they asked a different director to each create a single music video for one of the songs on their most recent album, PLANS. Directors were given small, shoe-string budgets, but allowed complete creative freedom over their video, a rare occurrence in the business of creating mainstream movies and videos. The band states that there is no cohesive theme throughout the series of music videos beyond the structure of the original music, and therein lies my problem with the experiment. The band released DIRECTIONS following the release of the album PLANS, and the videos are presented in the same order as the songs on the album.

Without running my mouth off for too long, I will address a key problem that I had with the videos on DIRECTIONS. First of all, one of my favorite aspects about listening to D.C.F.C. albums, or great albums in general--such as their previous album TRANSATLANTICISM, is the emotional flow and changes between the songs. The most luscious harmonies and goose-bump-inducing choruses are carefully nested between tranquil or somber moods, disgruntled-sounding rock, brooding, static music, and moments of humor, so as to juxtapose one mood or idea with another, creating an ebb and flow effect that makes the time elapsed in listening to the album feel more like a journey or experience gained, rather than merely pleasing sounds in the background while other events are going on. Albums like these resemble song-cycles, lieder, art songs, or more likely, symphonies, as many popular albums contain layered effects, complicated instrumental textures, and a broader scope of affect than the art song or lied is intended to convey. The directors of DIRECTIONS however, all seem to feel as though their assigned song was the emotional high point or climax of the album.

The videos that I found most successful accompanied songs that are easy to fit into a stereotype, such as the joyous, if not somewhat ironic or sarcastic song, "Crooked Teeth," which works as a piece of comic relief, a scherzo, or an intermezzo on the album to cleanse the listeners' palette and clear the air before the more poignant, difficult last songs--is it just me, or do we often feel so emotionally filled while listening to a favorite album or symphony that by the time that we are half-way finished, we just cannot expend anymore energy necessary to listen through to the conclusion? The directors that drew straws for more complicated, transitional songs, such as the song, "Different Names for the Same Thing," obviously had no idea that the songs purpose is to carry the mood of the previous song and transition into the next. It is possible that neither the directors nor the band intended to succeed in the feats that I am mentioning--the likelihood is very high that none of these ideas were even considered. I can accept this as the probable reason why I was primarily dissatisfied with DIRECTIONS, but in defense of my opinion I have yet to see a piece of artwork that is successful in expressing anything without a range of emotion, high and low points, and juxtaposition in the form of point and counterpoint--unless, of course, the point of the artwork is to do just the opposite; that is another problem with DIRECTIONS. The concept is dutifully in the realm of Dadaism, but the original music is not, and in my view the inclusion of the iconography presented by DIRECTIONS, serves to only weaken the product of PLANS.

JM