‘Music For The Dancers’ N°105 – Vintage 90s Music Videos

1 . Vanilla Ice – Ice Ice Baby

“Ice Ice Baby” struts in as a cold, calculated storm in the pop landscape of 1990, building on Vanilla Ice’s audacious leap into mainstream hip-hop from his scrappy 1989 debut.

With its instantly recognizable bassline borrowed from Queen and David Bowie’s “Under Pressure,” the track wears its uncredited sample controversy like a badge, eventually yielding songwriting credits in the kind of legal tango that could only amplify its infamy.

This wasn’t just a song; it was a high-gloss, neon-lit cultural artifact, bolstered by a music video that looked like it cost less than an ad for local plumbers and yet managed to hypnotize MTV audiences with Ice’s stiff swagger.

Lyrically, the track plays Miami nostalgia by borrowing both Alpha Phi Alpha’s fraternity chants and some of Ice’s own alleged Florida exploits—not so much storytelling as it feels like marketing in rhymes.

Produced under the shadow of pop ambition, “Ice Ice Baby” barrels past genre boundaries, becoming a strange emblem of hip-hop’s mall-friendly era, if not its critical darling.

Its later life as a remix experiment on deeper cuts like *Platinum Underground* and *Hard to Swallow* inflates the track beyond its initial reach, though nostalgia remains its most enduring currency.

Dismiss it as dated or dig it ironically, but there’s no denying it still rattles that bassline like a half-frozen relic of early ’90s audacity.

Featured on the 1990 album “To the Extreme”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

2 . Ruffneck – Everybody Be Somebody

“Everybody Be Somebody” operates as both anthem and statement, carving its spot in the 1995 house music landscape without overcomplicating its formula.

The Ruffneck team crafts a minimalist groove with a skeletal bassline and unadorned drum patterns that strip Jersey house to its essence, leaving plenty of room for Yavahn’s commanding vocals to shine.

The song borrows a male vocal snippet from Yello’s 1980 track “Bostich,” a wink to audiophiles while contributing to its hypnotic repetition.

Released under Masters At Work’s MAW label, it gains credibility as part of an era-defining house movement yet refuses to rest on hyper-polished production—its charm lies in its raw edges.

The lyrics radiate inclusivity and optimism, echoing club culture’s sense of collective euphoria while keeping aspirations grounded in the universality of human experience.

Commercially, it didn’t just breeze through dance charts but cemented itself with three weeks at #1 on the US listings, peaking at #13 in the UK and finding homes in global DJ sets and compilations.

Its many remixes—a staggering 53 versions, per Discogs—hint at its adaptability, whether tethered to underground venues or more commercial airwaves.

The track offsets its earworm potential with enough grit to avoid veering into the saccharine, instead building momentum through repetition and subtle enrichment.

Yavahn, a member of Jomanda who tragically passed in 2003, leaves a distinct imprint with her vocal delivery, ensuring the track remains more than just a loop in the vast 1990s house catalog.

In retrospect, “Everybody Be Somebody” neatly encapsulates the house genre’s mid-’90s ethos: repetitive, reassuring, and resolutely built for the communal catharsis of the dancefloor without demanding overanalysis.

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3 . E.T.A. – Casual Sub [Burning Spear]

ETA’s “Casual Sub” is an auditory scavenger hunt built on the bones of S.O.U.L.’s “Burning Spear,” a 1970s track steeped in funk and soul swagger.

Curiously, the track’s title nods to reggae legend Burning Spear, though the connection ends there, leaving listeners in a peculiar space between homage and misdirection.

Bereft of a detailed production pedigree or contextual breadcrumbs, “Casual Sub” exists more as an abstract exercise in sampling than a fully realized conversation piece.

The absence of definitive themes or lyrical anchors in ETA’s composition keeps the song’s identity elusive, allowing the sampled material to dominate the narrative.

What emerges from this creative blackout is a sense of irony—showcasing the power of reappropriation while simultaneously stripping it of context that could ground it meaningfully.

“Burning Spear,” as the original reference point, exudes a rhythmic charisma absent from its sampled counterpart’s shadowy, detached artistry.

The lack of explicit intent here can be read as either liberating or frustrating, depending on one’s tolerance for conceptual ambiguity.

In the end, “Casual Sub” feels less like a stand-alone statement and more like a clever footnote, raising the question: can a song survive on borrowed nostalgia alone?

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4 . Molella & The Outhere Brothers – If You Wanna Party

1995’s “If You Wanna Party” by Molella and The Outhere Brothers arrives at the intersection of Eurodance and hip house, a flashy time capsule from an era when oversized beats, rapid-fire rhymes, and carefree hedonism ruled European club scenes.

This collaboration stitches Molella’s Italian production prowess with Keith Mayberry and Hula Mahone’s chaotically vivacious vocal energy, resulting in an overly cheerful anthem that insists, not too politely, that you shake off any trace of introspection at the door.

The song charted respectably across Europe, suggesting it had just enough sugary hooks and formulaic charm to stick, without fully igniting a new dance craze.

There’s something almost mechanical about its success, a reminder of the mid-90s tendency to churn out disposable party ephemera, each track designed to peak in a sweaty club at exactly 2 a.m. before fading from memory by sunrise.

Its music video, full of frenetic edits and neon-lit club settings, is both a tribute to and caricature of the decade’s aesthetics—too shiny, too synthetic, but somehow still endearing in its unapologetic excess.

While it’s no masterpiece, “If You Wanna Party” serves well as a cultural timestamp, a garish but earnest toast to the late-night euphoria of its time.

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5 . Soul II Soul – Get A Life

Released in late 1989, “Get A Life” situates itself as a multifaceted statement from Soul II Soul’s second album, *Vol. II: 1990 – A New Decade*.

The track marries diverse influences—Philly grooves, reggae backbeats, and whispers of African rhythms—with the slick yet earthy R&B production synonymous with Jazzie B and Nellee Hooper.

Lyrically tinged with introspection, it opens like a philosophical lecture before spiraling into a childlike chorus that pleads, “What’s the meaning of life?”

Vocals come courtesy of Caron Wheeler, delivering with a grounded grace that stops short of overindulgence, providing a counterbalance to the lush orchestration behind her.

Chart performance proves the song’s crossover appeal—top three in the UK, defying expectations with a middle-finger salute to genre purism, and a respectable Billboard dance chart peak in the States.

If anything, the accompanying music video amplifies the track’s surreal blend of urban aesthetics and soft pastoral imagery, channeling an Afrocentric visual language that feels both soothing and assertive.

While it may appear deceptively simple at first pass, each listen peels back textured, layered production that’s anything but boilerplate.

Whether through the underground club scene or terrestrial radio, the track speaks volumes about late ‘80s musical eclecticism without shouting over its audience.

Featured on the 1990 album “Vol. II: 1990 A New Decade“.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

6 . Stereo MC’s – Step It Up

“Step It Up” by Stereo MC’s hails from their third studio album “Connected,” dropped in 1992, riding the momentum of the early ‘90s acid jazz fascination.

It’s an eclectic cocktail of hip-hop-meets-funk-meets-electronic, the kind of genre-blending gumbo that thrived before playlists put everything in boxes.

Released during November of the same year, the track climbed to number 12 on the UK charts—respectable but clearly not destined to topple the Britpop wave looming on the horizon.

Stateside, it was more cult-niche than chart darling, though its appearance in *Wayne’s World 2* gave it a flicker of cultural visibility.

Sonically, that trumpet solo touted by *Billboard* feels like the kind of uplifting curveball more artists should have tried back then, while its rhythmic undercurrent walks the tightrope between swagger and caffeine jitter.

As part of Stereo MC’s performance arsenal, it found its groove live at festivals like Glastonbury, where its pulsing hooks and no-frills energy landed better amid muddy fields than polished MTV broadcasts.

Rob Birch and Nick Hallam, the duo behind the act, played to their strengths by painting smoky club vibes over beats that begged for remixes, even though the album’s Mercury Prize buzz placed them in unfamiliar territory as critical darlings.

Years later, “Step It Up” sits in that curious ‘forgotten-but-not-really’ category: a track cemented to its era, nostalgic without feeling ancient.

Featured on the 1992 album “Connected”.

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7 . Byron Stingily – You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)

Byron Stingily’s 1998 cover of Sylvester’s disco classic, “You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real),” offers an effervescent homage that simultaneously roots itself in nostalgia and the pulse of contemporary house music.

Propelled by the sharp production work of Damien Mendis and Stuart Bradbury, Stingily’s version cruises on glossy, club-ready grooves while retaining the core sensuality of the original.

The track clinched the coveted No. 1 spot on the US Billboard Hot Dance Music/Club Play chart, a rare feat for covers aiming to channel decades-old hits without coming off as purely derivative.

In the UK, it peaked at No. 13, demonstrating cross-Atlantic appeal, while in Italy, it held its ground at an understated No. 25.

Stingily’s signature falsetto injects a human vulnerability into the relentlessly mechanical precision of late-90s house production, bridging the past and present with a disarming sense of joy.

The track’s presence on “The Purist,” an album loaded with contributions from house titans Masters at Work and Frankie Knuckles, firmly established Stingily as both a revivalist and innovator within the house community.

The accompanying music video, streaming widely on platforms like YouTube, plays like a love letter to club culture’s kinetic energy, capturing a wave of late-90s euphoria that feels just as vital today.

Far from a soulless rehash, Stingily’s rendition clutches onto the raw emotional heights of the disco era while gliding with the sleek precision of house music’s golden age.

The glittery reinterpretation not only celebrates Sylvester’s queer disco spirit but locks it into a fresh framework tailored for a new generation of dancefloors.

If there’s any tension here, it lies in a delicate balancing act between honoring a monumental legacy and ensuring the track could live as more than museum-piece nostalgia—a challenge which Stingily largely overcomes through sheer exuberance and vocal mastery.

Whether dominating American clubs, making its rounds on European charts, or burning through remixes on countless compilations, this single squares itself firmly within both disco’s lineage and house music’s forward march, earning its place in dance music’s expansive archive.

Featured on the 1998 album “The Purist”.

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8 . Jamiroquai – Space Cowboy

“Space Cowboy” by Jamiroquai blends acid jazz grooves with a laid-back funk undercurrent, capturing an ethos that feels both intergalactic and introspective.

Released in 1994 as part of the album *The Return of the Space Cowboy*, it enters the orbit of a band grappling with creative tensions and experimental ambition.

The track’s ethereal yet grounded vibe underscores Jamiroquai’s knack for weaving social commentary into smooth, bass-laden atmospherics.

Jay Kay’s falsetto glides over phrases that flirt with escapism while hinting at a more ominous existential climate.

A David Morales remix propelled it into club-favorite territory, proving its versatility far beyond its original incarnation.

Chart performances added weight to its orbit, landing in the UK Top 20 and claiming the top spot on the *Billboard* Hot Dance Club Play chart in the U.S., an achievement that signaled transatlantic recognition.

The music video, directed by Vaughan Arnell and Anthea Benton, mirrors the song’s playful yet otherworldly feel through trippy landscapes and expansive visuals.

The track’s lasting impression on fans and acid jazz loyalists reveals its duality: both a time capsule of the ’90s and an enduring entry in Jamiroquai’s catalog.

Pulling no punches in its fusion of funk and futuristic escapism, “Space Cowboy” plays as an invitation to lose yourself while simultaneously asking what you’re running from.

It remains a polished artifact of a genre and an era attempting to reimagine cool, with just enough planetary dust to keep it tethered to earth.

Featured on the 1994 album “The Return of the Space Cowboy“.

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9 . The KLF – Justified & Ancient

“Justified & Ancient,” a singular disruption in the pop-house continuum, first peeks out in *1987 (What the Fuck Is Going On?)* and metastasizes into its best-known form on *The White Room* (1991).

This version hits the charts with fervor: number two in the UK, eleven on the US *Billboard* Hot 100, and outright number one in 18 nations.

The production, helmed by Bill Drummond and Jimmy Cauty under the KLF Communications banner, delves into a mix of stadium house, ambient accents, and a dash of hip hop swagger.

Then there’s Tammy Wynette—a surprise guest—narrating this offbeat manifesto from a country icon’s lens.

Her unmistakable voice melds improbably with riffs borrowed from Jimi Hendrix’s “Voodoo Child,” smashing genre walls to bits.

The lyrics, steeped in the invented lore of The JAMs, play with themes of rebellion and surreal mythos, echoing the duo’s obsession with *The Illuminatus Trilogy* and disdain for music industry conformity.

Between its diverse iterations and unapologetically weird video, this track proves The KLF masters of calculated chaos and cultural mischief.

Featured on the 1991 album “The White Room “.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site

10 . The Tyrrel Corporation – Better Days Ahead

The Tyrrel Corporation’s “Better Days Ahead” brings a slick, electronic polish to the early 1990s acid jazz wave, blending smooth vocals, saxophone riffs, and synth-heavy grooves with an introspective flair.

The 1992 single, featured on their album “North East of Eden,” offers a breezy yet moody take on optimism, leaving listeners swaying in a haze of restrained melancholy and chic arrangements reminiscent of The Style Council or Everything But The Girl.

Its accompanying music video leans into atmospheric visuals, capturing a certain cool detachment that pairs well with the track’s glossy production.

Though its chart impact pales in comparison to bigger names of the era, the single still resurfaces in nostalgic YouTube playlists, quietly holding its ground in the fond memories of acid jazz enthusiasts.

At its core, “Better Days Ahead” feels like a subdued promise, wrapped in lush textures that evoke both longing and comfort without veering into schmaltz.

Featured on the 1995 album “Play for Today”.

Lyrics >> More by the same : Wikipedia

11 . The Go~Go’s – Cool Jerk

The Go is a Detroit-based garage rock band formed in 1998 amidst the rise of the city’s gritty rock renaissance.

With their debut album *Whatcha Doin’* released under Sub Pop in 1999, they deliver a sound that’s both raw and refreshingly unpolished, embodying the spirit of late ‘90s garage revivalism.

Tracks like “Summer Sun” channel a loose, almost disheveled energy, merging jangly guitars with vocals teetering between melodic and confrontational.

“Keep On Trash” exudes reckless abandon, layering fuzz-drenched riffs over pounding rhythms, capturing the band’s chaotic charm.

Their association with Jack White, who briefly played guitar with them, adds an intriguing footnote to their history, though they’re often unfairly overshadowed by his later success.

While not chart darlings, their material resonates as a snapshot of a scene reclaiming rock’s unapologetic edge.

Performances like their KEXP set further underscore their live appeal—volatile, raucous, and defiantly unpolished.

The Go’s legacy may rest less on broad recognition and more on their role in defining Detroit’s fiery garage rock ethos.

Featured on the 1990 album “Greatest”.

Lyrics >> More by the same : Official Site

12 . Orbital – Satan

In a genre teeming with pulsing beats and euphoric highs, Orbital’s “Satan” opts for a darker corner of the rave scene—a shadowy undercurrent throbbing with menace since its initial release as part of the 1991 “III” EP.

Phil and Paul Hartnoll root their creation in an industrial framework, constructed from jagged breakbeats and aural aggression, while borrowing a sinister sample from Breakwater’s “Release the Beast,” with its staccato chant of the titular word adding a ritualistic edge.

The track’s evolution is as twisted as its sound. From the original Belgian Nu Beat-inspired version to its live reimaginations—most famously at Glastonbury in 1994—it’s a piece perpetually shapeshifting under the strobe lights of time.

By the mid-‘90s, “Satan” had found new life, appearing on the *Spawn* soundtrack with Metallica’s Kirk Hammett adding his guitar fury, drenched in apocalyptic rock energy. The 1996 live iteration climbed to No. 3 on the UK Dance Chart, its pounding 4:4 beat now turbocharged for the floor.

Even as its remastered 2024 version approaches, the track’s core remains defiantly unpolished—an enduring emblem of Orbital’s willingness to peer into electronic music’s more abrasive corners. It isn’t friendly, and it definitely isn’t comforting, but “Satan” doesn’t ask for your affection; it demands your surrender.

Featured on the 1991 album “III (EP)”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Official Site