Parks and Wreck in This Week’s Holy Hunter of Music Videos
This week's roundup includes videos from Father John Misty, Zebra Katz and Gotye. And I'm aware those sound like AOL Goth Chat screen names.
Deadpan darling Aubrey Plaza, along with the help of her beautiful albeit psycho hose beast peepers, landed a funeral freak-out feature role in ex-Fleet Foxes drummer J. Tillman’s video for “Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings," the title track yanked from his upcoming debut Fear Fun out May 1st. Click through to see the video at EW as it’s their exclusive gem. In it, she delivers a delightfully disturbing performance that reaches crescendo post lamp dance (rivaling Udo Kier’s) while crouched nude mid-dance floor wrapped in a trippy afghan waving a middle finger in the face of forced merriment.
Ima [sic] let the sense that Brooklyn MC Zebra Katz (aka Ojay Morgan) graduated from the Tom Haverford School of Self Introduction slide, because the Ruben Sznnajderman (Gesundheit) directed video for the fetching, minimal “Ima Read” approaches nightmare levels of spooky and downright hypnotizing. The visuals alone give my own haunting memories from high school a run for their money (and I’ll never tell you why they called me “Miller Time”). “Proofread that bitch” certainly sounds like an adoptable mantra for managing editors far and wide – quite on topic with it being a good day in the sun for the ‘b’ word, it was a real bitch when I uncovered the real horror, that they ripped off the Laredo Independent School District’s ditty of the same name. I stand undecided as to which is catchier.
When a BAD commenter recommended this video for the infectious “Somebody That I Used to Know” around the time his third studio album Making Mirrors hit the airwaves last August, I smelled what multi-instrumentalist Gotye was stepping in. The latest celluloid offering from the Belgian-born Australian artist, directed and animated by Greg Sharp and Ivan Dixon, has me clamoring for the entire album and the nearest copy of The Brave Little Toaster (lest we forget Phil Hartman’s role as the sarcastic air conditioner). "State of the Art" weaves a creepy cartoon-y tale of a renegade sentient organ that transforms its new owners into minions.