‘Music For The Dancers’ N°520 – Vintage 90s Music Videos

1 . Cartouche – Feel The Groove

“Feel The Groove” by Cartouche thrives on its unapologetic embrace of early ’90s Eurodance tropes, where synthesizers pulsate like neon lights and the beats are mechanical yet intoxicating.

Released under the heavy influence of the burgeoning house music scene, this track finds its charm in its repetitive mantra-like vocals delivered by Myrelle Tholen, cutting through the layer cake of punchy basslines and jangly keyboard loops.

Serge Ramaekers, the producer and songwriter behind the track, didn’t so much reinvent the wheel as polish it for maximum aerodynamic effectiveness on the dancefloor.

While the song cracked various charts—strangely landing at No. 66 on the US Billboard Hot 100 and skipping to an impressive No. 8 on the Dance Club Play chart—it remained an oddity among its contemporaries, an efficient machine designed exclusively for sweaty clubs and kitschy compilations.

The song is brimming with a now-quaint sincerity, soaked in the strobe-lit optimism of the pre-Napster dance era while subtly winking at its own cheesiness with opaque lyrics that sound like they belong stitched onto someone’s Zubaz pants.

It also comes bundled with remixes that double down on its underlying functionality—whether you wanted a pitched-down underground vibe or more aggressive cuts for the rave crowd, Cartouche obliged.

Interestingly, the cultural shelf life of “Feel The Groove” extended when Oasis mirrored its melodic structure in their unreleased demo “Better Let You Know,” a historical footnote that might intrigue crate diggers more than casual club historians.

This song isn’t here to enlighten or evolve; it’s too busy aiming for your feet, making it a quintessential product of its time and a fleeting artifact of an exuberant, unpolished subculture.

Featured on the 1991 album “House Music All Night Long”.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Wikipedia

2 . If? – Saturday’s Angels

“Saturday’s Angels” by If? spins a dizzying blend of UK House, indie-dance, and progressive house, landing squarely in the heart of early ’90s club culture.

Released in 1992 on MCA Records Ltd., it forgoes commercial chart ambitions, opting for a subterranean groove better suited for sticky-floored clubs and dimly lit dance floors.

The track hurtles forward with an uptempo insistence that feels like it’s chasing a high—restless, pulsing, and slightly unruly, as if it’s daring you to catch up.

Its indie-dance edge injects a hint of rawness, shaking off the polished veneer common in some contemporaries, while its house roots anchor it firmly in the realm of euphoric escapism.

Justin Robertson’s rework—cheekily dubbed “Justin’s Most Excellent Remix”—takes the raw energy of the original and juices it further, carving out a spot in DJ sets of the era for its audacious momentum and crowd-thrumming kick.

Sonically, it plays like a time capsule of the pre-superclub era, before house music became homogenized by glossy chart crossovers.

“Saturday’s Angels” isn’t the anthem that defines a generation, but it doesn’t try to be—it’s happy being the shadowy figure, flirting with chaos, lighting up a Saturday night for those tuned into its wavelength.

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3 . Mr Jack – Wiggly World

Released in 2024, “Wiggly World” by Italian-born, Belgium-raised DJ Mr. Jack combines slick house beats with a quirky energy that aligns more with the club floor than introspective listening.

The album surfaces in both vinyl (via EAMS) and digital formats (hosted in part by Defected), a blend of tradition and modern accessibility that reflects the duality in today’s electronic music distribution.

The title track, “Wiggly World (Radio Boogie),” is a polished yet playful nod to the golden age of nightlife, its rhythms unapologetically steeped in nostalgia yet crisp enough for contemporary ears.

“Wiggly World (Cool Dub)” flips the mood into something more subdued, stripping elements away to create a track that hovers in minimalist cool, almost daring you to stop moving—a futile challenge for most listeners.

While the specifics of the album’s creation remain shrouded in ambiguity, the EP navigates a familiar loop of house standards sprinkled with enough eccentricity to hint at a story half-told, half-withheld.

Though major chart positions or accompanying visuals are conspicuously absent, “Wiggly World” isn’t clamoring for mainstream validation; it thrives in its own curated, enigmatic space, crafted for crowd immersion rather than commercial accolades.

Thematically, there’s an unspoken sense of levity within the grooves—a sly, knowing wink buried beneath the layers of bass and snare, as if Mr. Jack is less interested in staking a claim and more intrigued by how far he can stretch the fun.

Sure, the lack of a clear throughline or sprawling themes might leave some listeners wanting, but this project feels deliberately unserious, aiming less for grandeur and more for grooves that stick long after the dance floor clears.

Featured on the 1991 album “The Roof Is On Fire”.

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4 . Westbam – Hold Me Back

Released in 1989, “Hold Me Back” by Westbam encapsulates the gritty exuberance of the late ’80s electronic underground.

Its pounding house and techno elements are laced with embryonic traces of early trance, a chaotic fusion fitting for that era’s burgeoning rave movement.

The track was co-written and produced by Westbam alongside Klaus Jankuhn, both instrumental figures in shaping Berlin’s techno scene.

With no official video to bolster its appeal, the single still slithers through DJ sets of names like Sven Väth and Fargetta, a subterranean anthem thriving below commercial radar.

Formats such as 12” Maxi and CD-Maxi carried variations like the “Ultimate Mix” and “Vocal Blitz Mix,” catering to the genre’s growing appetite for elongated, dance-floor tailored edits.

Though it sidesteps traditional chart recognition, its utility as a rave essential cements its place in dusty tracklists and fleeting moments of strobe-lit chaos.

A time capsule of late-80s electronic absurdity, it pulses with the raw, unapologetic energy that defined the genre’s awkward adolescence.

More by the same : Official Site

5 . Erik – Got To Be Real

Erik’s rendition of *Got To Be Real* emerges from the UK House scene of the early ‘90s, carving a modest spot on the UK Singles Chart at #42, while causing greater ripples in the club and dance charts—peculiar given its sluggish mainstream performance.

Produced under the PWL Records banner by Pete Waterman and Dave Ford, the track couldn’t escape the glossy, almost detergent-commercial sheen often associated with Waterman’s production aesthetic.

Erik—real name Erica Harrold—transforms Cheryl Lynn’s disco juggernaut into a slicker, club-driven reimagining, swapping the original’s raw authenticity for an uptempo, studio-polished flavor aimed squarely at ravers and neon-hued dancefloors.

The Silver City Mix layers percussive excess over the track’s already frantic baseline, while the TK Groove mix feels like a desperate tug at the bell-bottoms of disco purists.

Although a solid effort, Erik’s version can’t quite manage Lynn’s confident swagger or funk-heavy rhythm, instead leaning on the recycled beats of its era.

As a cultural artifact, it speaks less to disco’s jubilant chaos and more to the polished predictability of mid-’90s club hits, succeeding as a pleasant yet uneventful remix of a groundbreaking classic.

Featured on the 1997 album “Solid HarmoniE”.

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6 . Solid Harmonie – I’ll Be There For You

Solid HarmoniE’s 1997 single “I’ll Be There for You” skews directly into the heart of late ‘90s teen pop, a bastion of glossy production and infectious hooks courtesy of Kristian Lundin and Max Martin.

The British-American girl group, cobbled together by manager Lou Pearlman in a period of lineup churn, nailed their formula beneath the aesthetic that dominated the TRL generation: sugary harmonies and radio-friendly melodies.

Chart numbers varied—peaking at a respectable #9 in both the Netherlands and Sweden—though their U.K. and Australian standings were more subdued, reflecting their limited resonance beyond Europe’s pop-primed spaces.

It’s hard to ignore the faint whiff of assembly-line craftsmanship here, but Lundin and Martin knew their way around clean, unforgettable refrains, and it shows.

Despite the fleeting nature of Solid HarmoniE’s career, they exemplify an era when vocal pop groups surged with disposable ubiquity, leaving behind polished but ephemeral relics of Y2K’s bubblegum prelude.

Lyrics >> Review >> More by the same : Instagram

7 . E-Male – We Are E-Male

There’s something amusingly opaque about “E_Male – We Are E_Male.” Or rather, there isn’t—because no one seems to have a clue what this track is, or if it even exists. The name suggests a throwback to early internet culture, when every pixel felt like a revelation. Yet, try to unearth details about this mystery song, and all you’ll get is static.

Contrast that with Paul Anka’s “(You’re) Having My Baby,” a ballad equal parts saccharine sentimentality and eyebrow-raising lyrics that fuel endless debates. Is it a celebration, a cringe-fest, or both? The cultural fallout of its release still prompts reflections on changing gender dynamics and the evolution of pop as a platform for personal expression—or lack thereof.

For a more seismic moment in music history, there’s The Beatles’ “I Saw Her Standing There,” which distills teenage energy into two and a half minutes of pure adrenaline. The bassline alone is a masterclass in simplicity, pumping life into lyrics that straddle sincerity and cliché, cementing The Beatles as harbingers of a cultural shift no one fully saw coming.

On the softer side of rock, The Babys’ “Every Time I Think of You” leans into dramatic balladry with the subtlety of a brick, yet somehow it works. With expansive choruses and velvet vocals, it nails the precarious balance of vulnerability and bombast that defines arena-driven love songs. It’s the musical equivalent of a rom-com on VHS: overwrought, earnest, and oddly comforting in small doses.

Perhaps what links these songs—through their obvious disparity in style and era—is the sheer capacity of pop music to encapsulate its moment. Whether saccharine croon, fevered guitar riff, or a song no one can actually find, each of these tracks, in its own curious way, tells a story about the time it aimed to capture.

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8 . Jellybean – What’s It Gonna Be? (w/ Niki Haris)

“What’s It Gonna Be?” is a glittering product of the 1980s dance explosion, helmed by John “Jellybean” Benitez and brought to life with vocals by Niki Haris.

Released as part of Jellybean’s 1987 album *Just Visiting This Planet*, the track finds its footing in the era’s polished yet frenetic club culture.

Jellybean’s meticulous layering of synth grooves and rhythmic beats feels tailor-made for strobe-lit dancefloors, while Haris delivers her lines with the measured authority of someone who knows they’re steering the night’s energy.

The song charted respectably, peaking at #10 on the US Dance Club Songs chart and even making a brief visit to the UK Singles Chart at #93, proving its geographic reach but perhaps also hinting at the limits of its sticking power.

The production is undeniably tight, even if it leans on tropes that now feel predictable—those formulaic, club-ready beats can come dangerously close to prefabricated pop.

The accompanying music video is locked firmly in its era’s aesthetic, with flashy visuals and slick staging that amplify the track’s effervescent ambitions while showing us Haris in peak form.

Where “What’s It Gonna Be?” soars is in its sense of unrelenting forward motion; it keeps the feet moving and the pulse racing, even if it doesn’t linger much beyond its runtime.

Jellybean’s ability to pair clean production with memorable vocalists like Haris remains his calling card, ensuring that the song finds a place, however fleeting, in the continuum of late-80s pop-dance hybrids.

For all its calculated charm, the track may not entirely transcend its milieu, but its high points still glow brightly in the haze of the disco ball.

Featured on the 1992 album “Make It Come True”.

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9 . Girlfriend – Take It From Me

“Take It from Me” by Girlfriend is a sugary relic of the early ’90s pop landscape that feels like an artifact of its time: bright, catchy, and almost aggressively polished.

Released in April 1992, it’s the kind of track that could only thrive in an era when music videos were king and scrunchies a staple accessory.

Peaking at number one on the Australian singles chart, it managed a modest incursion into the UK and New Zealand, making it clear that its appeal was geographically selective, a kind of regional pop sovereignty.

That the song went Gold in Australia with 35,000 sales speaks less to its inherent greatness and more to the power of formulaic pop to dominate airwaves when executed at the right moment.

The track itself fits snugly within the boundaries of early-’90s pop convention—flashy enough for the charts but not particularly memorable once the glitter settles.

Its production values remain a mystery, with scant information about its producer, and the lyrical themes largely fail to distinguish themselves, leaving behind an aura of generic optimism.

The multiple remix formats—single mix, funky mix, karaoke mix—feel like a transparent attempt to give the song legs, despite its limited shelf life in cultural memory.

If anything, “Take It from Me” highlights the brief, shiny arc of Girlfriend’s short-lived stardom, proving that sometimes a chart-topping hit is less a definitive statement and more a passing ripple in pop history.

More by the same : Wikipedia

10 . Oui 3 – Fact Of Life

“Fact of Life” by Oui 3 sidesteps the bombast of chart-chasing hits, offering a nuanced blend of electronic, hip hop, and acid jazz that’s either quietly confident or slightly indecisive, depending on your mood.

The trio—Trevor Miles, Blair Booth, and Philipp Erbacher—craft a sound that feels both rooted in its early ‘90s moment and strangely adrift, as though searching for its rightful place on the radio dial.

Unlike their more enduring tracks like “Break From The Old Routine,” this single doesn’t scream for attention but seems content with a low-key existence, which might explain its ghostly absence from mainstream charts.

Promotion leaned heavily on press, radio, and TV ads, making it clear the label wanted this song to land, though the lack of a widely recognized video feels like a half-hearted gesture at best.

Still, the production is undeniably sleek, with layers that reward attentive listening—just don’t expect to be humming it in the shower days later.

Oui 3, for all their ambition, often operated on the fringes of major movements, and “Fact of Life” is no exception, maintaining a steady groove without tipping into much-needed urgency or immediacy.

If they aimed for eclectic cool, they landed somewhere closer to genial background music—pleasant but easy to overlook as life marches on.

Featured on the 1991 album “Queer”.

More by the same : Wikipedia

11 . Thompson Twins – The Saint

“The Saint” by Thompson Twins occupies an intriguing yet understated chapter in the band’s latter career, released in 1992 off their _Queer_ album.

With its climb to a modest number 53 on the UK Singles Chart, it reflects the waning commercial reach of a band that had once dominated the ’80s pop landscape with contagious anthems.

The track likely carries the DNA of their signature new wave and pop sensibilities, a genetic imprint shaped by band members Tom Bailey, Alannah Currie, and Joe Leeway.

Recorded under Arista Records, the production is presumably sleek yet fishbowl-contained, echoing their penchant for layered instrumentation paired with a synthesizer’s crispness.

_Queer_ overall marked a directional shift, albeit lacking the broad resonance of their mid-decade zenith.

No flashy music video lore trails behind “The Saint,” a departure from the visual explosion of their past hits like “Hold Me Now.”

Nevertheless, the song encapsulates the band’s late-stage experimentation while sticking to their roots, navigating an eclectic, if uneven, post-peak artistry.

Featured on the 1994 album “Chocolate and Cheese”.

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12 . Ween – Voodoo Lady

“Voodoo Lady” by Ween revels in a quirky mix of funk, blues, and psychedelic textures, embodying the offbeat genius that defines the band.

Released in 1994 on their album *Chocolate and Cheese* through Elektra Records, this track captures a playful, rhythmic groove steeped in voodoo-inspired mystique.

The bouncy guitar riff is infectious, while bongos and manipulated amps weave an otherworldly soundscape, keeping one ear rooted in the bayou and the other lost in distortion-filled experimentation.

Its live presence elevates the song further, often morphing into sprawling jam sessions showcasing Dean Ween’s penchant for lengthy, emotive guitar solos.

The track’s peculiar charm secured its placement in cult films like *Road Trip* and *Dude, Where’s My Car?*, cementing its place as a cultural oddity.

The Roman Coppola-directed music video adds another layer of eccentric appeal, with inverted colors and swimming pool shots lending a campy surrealism befitting the song’s vibe.

Though not engineered for mass appeal, “Voodoo Lady” finds its audience among those prepared to savor its weirdness, one bongo beat at a time.

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