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Video Video

SIX DEVELOPERS IN SEARCH OF A CHARACTER

We’re often let in on what we are assured is some very privileged information concerning the conceptualization, production, and marketing of new videos.

April 1, 1985
Billy Altman

The CREEM Archive presents the magazine as originally created. Digital text has been scanned from its original print format and may contain formatting quirks and inconsistencies.

You know, one of the real advantages, or, as those of us in the biz like to call them, perks, associated with writing about music videos is that we’re often let in on what we are assured is some very privileged information concerning the conceptualization, production, and marketing of new videos. And it almost goes without saying that it is then one of the great joys of this line of work to be able—when and if the situation arises—to share some of the exciting “behind the scenes” news with those of you out there in reading, listening, and/or viewing land. So, true to the loftiest principles of journalism's pledge to keep the public informed of that which it has the right to know, we pass along the following missive, which crossed our desk just a scant few days ago by way of the dedicated people at Picture Music International:

“Los Angeles, January 7, 1985—Dennis DeYoung oversleeps and unheroically misses one of his most important auditions in the appropriately named ‘Don’t Wait For Heroes,’ the second video off the A&M recording artist’s Desert Moon album. Director Jack Cole, highly regarded for his emotionally affecting videos, used extensive dialogue and a strong title-oriented theme, further enhancing the rock-tinged ballad, just as he had in the ‘Desert Moon' video.

“DeYoung, portraying a struggling musician, dreams of being a superstar and misses an important audition for a ‘Rock Search’ competition. He gets a new audition and delivers a rousing performance. Director Cole noted: ‘In both videos an ongoing characterization has been developed. In both “Desert Moon” and “Don’t Wait For Heroes” we’ve established Dennis DeYoung as a man in search of himself.’ ”

Now we do admit that, in the past, it may not have been inaccurate to describe this department’s general outlook on videos as being, shall we say, skeptical, or perhaps even downright cynical on occasion. However, the tidings sent forth by Picture Music International does truly make one sit up and take pause. To think that under the guiding hand of Jack Cole—a director “highly regarded for his emotionally affecting videos” (admit it, you wept like a newborn baby the first time you saw Steve Perry’s “Foolish Heart,” didn’t you?), for his use of “extensive dialogue” (who among us can forget the Casablancaesque impact of the words “Go on, get out of here!” at the climax of “Desert Moon”?)—that under his talented supervision, Dennis DeYoung might see himself established, in our lifetime, as not simply a mere recording artist, but as a man, far removed from the boyish folly of “Babe” or “Sail Away,” a man in search of nothing less than—himself. What can we say, except that we are embarrassed, ashamed even, of our failure to recognize the real and obviously boundless potential of the music video. We await the official promotional release of “Don’t Wait For Heroes” with equal portions of anticipation and, yes, humility. Develop and ongo your characterization as you see fit, Dennis and Jack. We wish you Godspeed.

Speaking of heroism, maturity, and self-awareness, we come to our spotlight video this month, which features not only a real hero and a real man, but someone who has been given perhaps the greatest gift mankind can bestow upon any individual—namely, his own cereal. We are talking, of course, of the one and only Mr. T, who has recently graced the music world with his very first album, Mr. T’s Commandments. Master of the media that he is, his T-shjp has now bequeathed to a grateful universe his maiden video voyage, “Mr. T’s Commandment,” a touching plea for love and respect between parents and children as only the gold-plated one can do it.

“Honor thy father and mother/ The Bible makes it clear,” expounds Mr. T in his own unique interpretation of the genre known as “rap.” “If you break the rule, God

help you fool/You got Mr. T to fear,” he warns while before your eyes, numerous disreputable characters are sent sprawling down empty elevator shafts or flying through plate glass windows. And, as Mr. T makes it clear through clenched fists and clenched teeth, it’s not just kids who had better watch out and better be nice. “OK parents,” he intones, “You got to help them with their homework...Take them out to buy nice things,” all this while assorted vermin meet their doom in the wake of the avenging T. If all this righteous bloodletting doesn’t have you quaking in your booties, well, then, just wait until you see this man smile! Not since Robert Stack in The Untouchables have we encountered a display of flashing pearlies this harrowing. So, remember, if you’re even thinking about being just a wee bit bad—whether it’s in the movies, TV shows, cartoons, or toy departments, or on breakfast tables, stereos, or video tape—He is everywhere.

SNAP SHOTS Drop That Beat In The Garbage Can: Cyndi Lauper, "Money Changes Everything”—Now that the Unusual One’s interest in wrestling is starting to wane, maybe it’s time for her to challenge Donnie Van Zandt to a flying-overthe-audience race...All of The Best Parts Are Taken: Toto, “Stranger In Town”—Brad Dourif got nominated for an Oscar 10 years ago so he could wind up doing this?...Is Balloooon!: New Edition, “Cool It Now”—I’ve finally figured out these guys’ secret: helium...Take This Tech And Shove It: John Fogerty, “The Old Man Down The Road”—Do you realize that when remote control guitars make patch chords totally obsolete, this video will be a priceless antique?...Burp If Yoq’re Having A Good Time: the Who, "Twist And Shout”—I honestly don’t know what good it’s doing that they finally broke up if they’re never going to actually go away...Speak Loud, Louder..1 Don’t Understand: Jermaine Jackson, “Do What You Do”— First a duet with Pia Zadora, now an international spy thriller complete with simulated (?) hankapanka, champagne breakfasts, assassinations, and subtitles! If only our heart didn’t belong to Tito.

DISC JOB

Dave DiMartino

Pioneer, a company that’s had a solid reputation for many years, has just introduced the inevitable: a videodisc player that also plays CDs. It’s the CLD-900 and it costs over a thousand bucks, but that isn’t really the point. The point is that it’s here.

If you’re like most humans, you may have disregarded the possibility of videodiscs being worth diddly. Why? Maybe because you saw a few down at the appliance store being sold as "close-outs.” Or you found out the disc-player needed to work the things were basically glorified turntables—they had needles, the discs themselves skipped, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Except return the disc for a new one. Which, of course, also skipped. So if you were enough of a Lou Reed fan to go out and buy A Night With Lou Reed on videodisc, you weren’t really getting a night. A few seconds— random ones—would be missing. And this would anger you.

Thus this entire videodisc system—called CED by some, “needlevision” by others—has gone the way of quadrophonic sound. RCA, who developed it, stopped production of the players last year, and even now discs are getting harder to find. After the final appliance store closeouts? Thank you, good luck and we hope you enjoyed wasting your money.

But there’s always been more than one type of videodisc. Pioneer introduced their LaserVision (LV) system some years back, and their disc player didn’t need needles—a laser beam read whatever signal was encoded on the disc, never even touching it. The players never skipped, and the discs never wore out. Furthermore, they provided the best picture your TV set could get, with a stunning clarity even the most expensive videocassette recorders couldn’t match. And the sound—full stereo—was fantastic.

So far so good. The only problem was, these LaserVision systems were expensive. A lot more expensive than RCA’s needlevision. And the laserdiscs themselves weren’t so easy to find.

And there were other problems, too. Who in their right mind wanted to buy a disc when videotapes— which were cheaper—were availble? It was a good point, but Pioneer had an answer: LVs not only looked better, they sounded better. And if enough people bought them, prices would naturally come down. Things would even out.

For a while, that made sense. Then two things happened.

One, the prices of prerecorded videotapes—and of VCRs themselves—started plummeting. And then came Beta and VHS HiFi, and there wasn’t much of a contest anymore: whatever advantages LaserVision once held, these new Hi-Fi VCRs simply sounded better. Though the LaserVision still provided a better picture, it couldn’t quite match the astounding sound quality of the HiFi VCRs.

Meanwhile, Compact Discs were rapidly gaining favor. These little five-inch pieces of plastic were also read by a laser, much like Pioneer’s video system—and they, of course, sounded better

than anything. Even Hi-Fi VCRs. But they didn’t provide a picture.

Shall we say that Pioneer are not dummies?

Enter the CLD-900. Due to their similar technologies, both LaserVision and Compact Discs can be played on Pioneer’s newest machine. This, as you may have gathered, is big news.

But there’s one final complication. CDs are encoded with digital sound—one reason why they sound so good—while LVs have always carried an analog sound signal. So, by definition, even though Pioneer’s new machine can play both CDs and LVs, the latter just won’t sound comparable, right?

Wrong. That’s because Pioneer have begun manufacturing LVs carrying two separate audio tracks, much like Hi-Fi videocassettes do. One track is a digital signal—for machines like the CLD-900—and the other a standard analog signal, capable of superb sound on regular LaserVision players. In other words, the best of both worlds.

The bottom line? Pioneer has now invented a laserdisc machine that is superior to the best VCR in every capacity but one: it can’t record. But prices for the discs are coming down, more of them are being made, and more good ones are being made. It now seems entirely likely that laserdiscs and VCRs will coexist in peace, each offering something the other can’t provide—much like the standard

turntable and cassette deck in modern audio systems. Even better is the fact that LVs, unlike vinyl records, simply will not wear out— or, like videotapes, jam, rip or dry up. They are, in two words, pretty neat.

What LVs are available? Plenty. First thing you’ll notice is some overlapping with Sony’s recent Video 45s. Called MusicVideos, these eight-inch LVs contain an average of 14 minutes of rockvids by such faves as David Bowie, the Motels, Iron Maiden, the Stray Cats, Phil Collins, J.Geils, Duran Duran and Kajagoogoo. Currently retailing for $10.99—which means you can get ’em cheaper at discount houses— these mini-discs are not only very reasonably priced, they’re probably on their way to becoming collector’s items: none of them carry fully digital sound. Yet.

More of interest are Pioneer’s actual LaserDisc “albums," the most recent batch featuring Roxy Music’s The High Road, a 75-minute live show, Joni Mitchell’s hour-long Refuge Of The Road, ABC’s Mantrap, Phil Collins’s Live At Perkins Place and more. Though several of these performances have already been recently issued on videotape, I have a feeling Pioneer’s LVs will be outlasting them by many years. Which may ultimately prove to be the point.