In the video for the song Any Man of Mine by Shania Twain we find ourselves in the middle of a country scene embodying everything from denim vests to pastures to horses, cows and pickup trucks. My family is a farming one and this video appeals to my memory of my first horse, the one dad bought for me when he finally decided I could graduate from my pony. His name was Worms and he was a sorrel Quarter Horse. He was my birthday present when I turned 8 and we were instantly best friends. He had no markings on him except for a perfect white diamond, which sat directly between his big brown eyes. He was about 15 “hands”, the standard unit for horse measuring high, so he wasn’t all that big. His height, or lack thereof, made it possible for me to climb up on him unassisted and allowed me to saddle him myself. It wasn’t long before Worms and I became best friends. Whenever I crawled through the fence to see him I would be able to hear his large hooves pounding over to great me with a gentle nudge on the shoulder with his soft velvety mussel. Whatever my whim or fancy Worms was along for the ride. He would trod slowly through a river or kick up his heels and fly through a corn or wheat, all I had to do was ask. When I entered my senior year of high school I decided that some other little girl deserved to experience the joy that Worms had brought into my life, and I sold him to a little neighbor friend of mine. It marked, to me, the end of much of what brought me simple joy when I was younger.
On of the first experiences I had with the band Yellowcard was through this video for their song Ocean Avenue. In the opening clip of the video the lead singer/ main character of the video is wearing a black starter jacket with yellow stripes down the sleeves and along the collar. When I was in the 4th grade it was the “cool thing” to have a starter jacket, generally your typical Wal-Mart brand, and wear it every day when were let out of class for a short stint of recess. The jackets ranged in colors from greens to yellows, and usually embodied a secondary accent color for sleeves, or showed themselves as stripes down the sleeves or collars, or perhaps even a bold strip across the body of the jacket. This trend crazy got so out of hand at my grade school that the kids in my class went so far as to start their own “Starter Jacket Club”. With only about 15 kids in my class the club rapidly grew to a size, which warranted it a playground legend. Naturally, seeing the craze that was unfolding, I begged my mom for a starter jacket until she relented and picked one up for me when she next visited Wal-Mart. It was blue with white sleeves and white striping along the collar. It was perfect! Whenever I slipped into it I marveled at the slickness of the lining against my arms and the warmth it always provided. Sadly, when I approached the “grand master”, aka- leader of the club I was told that I was not allowed to join the club due to the fact that I “didn’t talk”. Naturally I was crushed, however I still sported my starter jacket every chance I got.
This video for Matchbook Romance’s song Promise depicts the band playing in what appears to be a teenage girl’s bedroom. One interesting feature of the girl’s bedroom is the mosquito net canopy, which covers the girl’s bed. When I was 11 I put up a mosquito net over my bed. The net was, by area standards, to large for my bed so much of the thin flossy material gathered on the floor and fell lackadaisically over the posts of my bed. The veil was white and hung from a screw hook my mother and I together inserted into the ceiling above my bed. The strings from the screw hook attached onto a white circular tube, about the size of a large punch bowl and from this circle hung the netting like material, which comprised the actual veil of the net. The net afforded me the ability to lie I bed and pretend I was a princess along the Nile river, for the material reminded me of what kind of luxury a princess might enjoy. Also it granted me the feeling that I was always safe in my bed. Whenever I felt alone I could crawl in my bed, close the net around me and disappear into slumber or into a daydream. My bed became somewhat of a sanctuary when the net was closed around me. It provided a barrier between reality and myself. Often I would find myself going to bed early shearly to enjoy some time where my imagination could wander freely as I gazed through the netting up to the ceiling of my room Eventually I outgrew the feeling of safety and enjoyment that the netted covering over my bed provided and took it down.
This music video for Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve is not the original one made for the song by the band itself. The video, however, is a collage of moments form the movie, Cruel Intentions, which can largely be credited with the success of the song. In one scene of this video we see the main character, Sebastian, driving his classic car down a highway with his prized leather bound journal in the passenger seat. The entire movie is based around this journal and the effect it had on people’s lives. For my 14th birthday I received a journal from a good friend of mine. Generally I am not the type to keep a journal, but something about this book inspired me to write and I did just that within its pages every night. The journal was about 10 inches long and 8 inches wide; the red cover was accented by horizontal blue squiggle lines and bound by a white metal spiral binding. The pages were an off white beige color and each individual page was headed with a verse from the Bible. I kept the book forever under the framework of my bed where it was safe from the prying eyes and hands of my mother of the cleaning lady. Journals, like this one, provide a place for people to put their thoughts in writing and express themselves without having to hear a critique from the pages to which they confide. I confided in my diary; looking back to my entries they seem juvenile, however they were an expression of a person I no longer am and of thoughts that were relevant to my life at the time. When the journal was full I purchased another, but the new journal’s pages were rough and unfamiliar and I abandoned the book after only a few weeks of patchy writing. Looking back I understand that the effort I put into writing the journal was what bonded me too it so strongly. I can still remember the crinkled sound the pages made whenever flipped over so I might begin a new page or entry. Also I remember the freedom that swept over me when I found myself with some extra time to steal away and create another personal entry within the vault of the pages.
It was my good friend Leslie who introduced me to this video for the song Jetsetter by the band Morningwood. The part of the video which intrigues me are the cuts from the theme of the video to the chorus, and the video filmed inside of an airplane. My family does allot of traveling. Since the age of 5 I have been on an airplane at least 4 times a year. In this time I have grown accustom to what to expect from the flight of your average jet setter. The seats of an airplane are generally comfortable when first you sit down in them, however this feeling usually only lasts about the first hour or so. After that time you begin to feel ever spring you are sitting on. You should always feel lucky if you don’t hear a baby screaming somewhere in your vicinity and you should feel even more lucky yet if your seat is located far away from the lavatories. The main source of amusement for a never ending flight was always found in the SkyMall brochure you could find in the pocket attached to the back of the seat in front of you. This catalogue had everything your average airplane rider could image to make them wish they were anywhere but on the plane. The one item in the SkyMall magazine that my younger self wondered over was the custom embroidered bags. For kids, they came in multiple colors, generally the bags were orange, green, red and white. Each section of bag would be a different color. The front pocket would be red and the sides would each be a different color. But, the absolute coolest part of these bags was the fact that you could have your name embroidered on the bag! It always seemed to me that as much traveling as we did I deserved a bag with my name on it.
Few videos strike such a joyous feeling in my heart as this video for the song Shimmy Shimmy Quarter Turn by Hellogoodbye. The video is set on a beach in what appears to be landscape characteristic of southern California or the white sand beaches of Hawaii. Since about my freshman year of high school my family has vacationed at several beaches across the nation for the Christmas season. This particular beach setting reminds me of the beach my uncle’s house opens up to in Hawaii. Two Christmases my family traveled to see my uncle and during our stay we enjoyed the soft sand beaches the destination allowed for. The feeling of your toes curling up soft white sand as you gaze out over a crystal blue ocean is a feeling I have never experienced at any other time in my life. The beach outside of my uncle’s house stretches about 8 to 10 miles in length. Dotted across the beach you also see about 3 lifeguard stations, such as the one depicted within this video. It is a private beach and a line of open air, cool toned houses follows the natural curvature of the beach about 100 yards off the actual breaking point of the waves upon the sand. This Christmas my family is returning to the beach house in Hawaii for Christmas. It is a place that holds carefree family memories.
An ode to the cell phone; although this song was released long before the onset of cell phone mania the line “Leave a message and I’ll call you back” is one, from this No Doubt song Spiderwebs, which has been emblazoned on the minds of America’s teenagers, adults and senior citizens as the standard line heard whenever a person reaches the voicemail of the person they intend to call. Cell phones have made voicemail a staple in nearly every citizen’s life. My own cell phone plays a message nearly identical to the one in this No Doubt song whenever a person reaches my voicemail, this also rang true with my first cell phone. I received my first cell phone during my sophomore year of high school and I believe it is safe to say that it changed my life forever. It was a candy bar style Nokia 3220. It was about 5 inches long and slid easily into my pockets. The coolest feature of my new phone was the light up sides. Whenever the phone rang the sides of the phone would light up in different patterns with the lights alternating in multiple patterns of red, green and orange. Each preinstalled ring tone on the phone came equipped with is own personal light sequence; fast loud ring tones were generally accompanied by flashes from each color at the speed of light, while slower, more docile, ring tones faded gently from one color to the next. This feature on my phone provided for hours of amusement while my friends and I were stuck on bus rides to athletic events or on our way to see a movie. Also, this light feature had a pattern for whenever I received a voicemail from a missed caller. In order to inform me I had an awaiting message the phone would gently pulse red colors from the side bars every couple of minutes or so until it caught my attention and I realized what was waiting for me. My own personal experience with my first phone, and voicemail may be more recent than the experience No Doubt sings of in their song, but essentially they are connected through the fact that cell phones, and voicemails have worked themselves into our lives for good.
My boyfriend of two years is in a band, and I have never seen an actual music video convey the true atmosphere of a small time band’s show as well as this Arctic Monkey video for the song Fake Tales of San Francisco. The video cuts between shots of the band playing on what appears to be a small bar stage in front of a small crowd and shots of some more behind the scenes esque shots of just the band and their “entourage”. The feeling of a small show is one that I have grown accustomed to in the past couple of years. Generally the stage is setup with a lead singer in the middle, guitarist on the left, bassist and sometimes there is another guitar player on the right, and drummer in the back left hand corner. The stage raises about three feet off of the ground level. In the video you see a line of show goers up against the stage, which is accurate of how the setting is played out. Generally those closest to the stage are the ones who know either a band member or those who know all the words to the songs. The farther back you progress into the crowd you generally encounter those less comfortable in the setting and those who are not as familiar with the band or their music. Least often recognized are the people in the very back, usually sitting. These girls tend to be girls like me, band members girlfriends, who sit and watch the events unfolding before them.
