I couldn’t bear to let these sit in the linkblog; they’re the fucking funniest thing I’ve seen all month.
YouTube user StSanders takes videos of famous “guitar gods” and overdubs them with his own instrumentation. The trick, though, is that he makes them sound terrible. His ability to perfectly synch his playing to the performer’s is what makes the effect so satisfying (and hilarious) — the videos trick the part of your brain that unconsciously associates motion and sound, and as a result you simply can’t imagine that Eric Clapton could be playing anything other than that dreadful noise you hear. And oh, the faces he makes while he’s doing it!
The videos are also a rare example of truly musical musical comedy, in which the jokes are made by instruments rather than language. The drums in the Clapton video act as a terrific background joke, and the entrance of the saxophone at a minute and half in is hilarious.
Below is my favorite: Jake E. Lee’s bizarre theatrics are funny enough, but Ozzy Osbourne’s constant, enthusiastic clapping is what pushes me over the edge here.
Here’s a link to the rest of StSander’s videos — this one, of Steve Vai playing a triple-(I’ll say that again, triple)-necked guitar is particularly good.
Stark Effect’s “We Like Repartee”, released in 2002 as part of the Dictionaraoke Project, isn’t the cleverest Internet gimmick song I’ve ever heard, nor is it the even the catchiest — it is, after all, based on a goddamn Venga Boys song. Yet somehow, I have become unaccountably obsessed with it. Why does something so silly give me so much pleasure?
As a professional comedian, my suspicion is that the rewritten lyrics make it seem almost plausible that the word-pronunciation voices from online dictionaries actually have, somehow, written and recorded a party song about how awesome the dictionary is. That, and the simple pleasure of hearing the stilted Encarta voice try to get his groove on. (”Hey. Now. Hey. Now. Here what I say. Now.”)
More from Stark Effect: The Mic In Track EP, a wonderful set of compositions based on found recordings collected from peer-to-peer filesharing networks.
I’ve always loved Raphael’s comic — it’s charming, well-written, and beautifully illustrated. However, I’ve often been bothered by Raphael’s tendency to dwell in self-pity, rather than express any one of the many positive aspects of his life. (See exhibit A; exhibit B.)
After making fun of him for the umpteenth time, the following conversation took place:
Me: “You know, if I wrote your comic, I would write about how your life is awesome and how you’re stupid for being such a big fucking baby all the time.” Raphael: “Ok. Want to?” Me: “Huh?” Raphael: “You have a week.”
A short two months later, I whipped up the following gem. Enjoy.
I was this close to standing in line with Ben and buying an iPhone, when I realized that my money would be much better spent on more equipment that I could use to help make more awesome videos about the gadgets I will not be buying.
Two months of writing, shooting, and editing (oh, god, the editing) all add up to the coolest thing I’ve ever worked on:
While I directed and edited this piece — and it’s a piece that I’m immensely proud of — the most pleasant surprise of the experience was how the creative effort of everyone involved came together so neatly. I’ve directed videos before, but this project marked the first time that I approached ten different people and said, “Hey, could you contribute your valuable time and talent to help make this video as good as it can possibly be?” Every time I was met with a resounding yes, and the resultant piece is largely an amalgam of wonderful things that I could have never created myself. It’s a good feeling.
I have more to say, but it’s late and I’m tired. If you’re interested in hearing more, definitely check out the Olde English blog in the next few days. In the meantime, I hope you’ll excuse me while I bask in the pleasure of finally being done.
As an experiment, I’ve decided to try shifting some of the linkblog content (which, as you all know, is the only regularly-updated section of this blog) back into the central column, mainly because there are certain items which benefit from a fuller presentation. The following item, JibJab’s music video for Weird Al’s “Do I Creep You Out?” isn’t necessarily one of them — the song is entirely unfunny and unmemorable, and the source material too boring to be a good subject for parody. The video itself, however, is noteworthy for its strikingly unique animation style.
[Update: Removing embedded video, because it was messing with the page layout. Link to the video here.]
The video’s pastiche of animated real-life stills, keyframed distortions, and drawn backgrounds is something that I’ve never seen before — check out 1:40, for example, where Al’s chest rises and falls in a way that’s totally convincing and emotive, yet still lets us see the strings underneath the animation. Whoever directed this piece should quit JibJab and start producing for people who will give them proper credit for their innovative work.
Instead of pumping my own work on Super Deluxe, I’d like to draw your attention to my favorite series on the site, The Maria Bamford Show:
Beyond the spot-on impersonations and snappy jokes — both of which I’ve come to expect from Maria — what really makes the show stand out to me is the way it blurs Maria’s reality. The premise of the show is that Bamford suffered a nervous breakdown on stage, ran out of anxiety medication, and moved back in with her parents. The entire show is shot in what is ostensibly her parents’ attic, and when playing herself Maria is almost always shown lying in bed in a state of paralyzed depression. Do I believe that any of this actually happened? No, but based on what I know of Bamford from her work, it’s not hard to believe. Maria’s persona is such a bundle of neuroses that even when you know the material is fiction you’re slightly concerned for her sanity, and that tension is a big part of what makes the show (and her act in general) so much fun to watch.
Due to a tiny, immediately-corrected mistake on the part of an intern at the New York Times, yesterday I was delivered the following amusing juxtaposition:
