Korn, The Prodigy, 808 State, PJ Harvey, Enigma, The Beautiful South, Elton John, Sinéad O’Connor, Bad Religion, Pavement, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Wonder Stuff
They are the performers of twelve vintage amusing, puzzling and sometimes shocking videos of songs that were ranked in various charts, this week (07/52) BUT… in the Nineties 90s.
Here, they are reunited in one glorious playlist. Enjoy!
For TWENTY FOUR more ‘Vous Avez Dit Bizarre’ – Vintage 90s Music Videos – week 07/52 – click here and here
Tracklist
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![]() 1 . Korn – A.D.I.D.A.S.“A.D.I.D.A.S.” encapsulates a snapshot of Korn at their most unfiltered: brash, irreverent, and steeped in the chaotic energies of mid-’90s nu metal. Clocking in at a tight 2:32, the song’s brevity mirrors its raw immediacy, much like the rest of *Life Is Peachy*, the band’s 1996 sophomore album. Stripped of ornamentation, the track wraps its sexually charged core in Jonathan Davis’s sardonic delivery, the title—a tongue-in-cheek acronym for “All Day I Dream About Sex”—planting its flag firmly in juvenile cheekiness. Davis himself has described the song as “immature and juvenile,” and such self-awareness perhaps lends the track its charm. It’s a piece that doesn’t shy away from its nature, an anthem for 24-year-olds navigating fame, excess, and impulse with as much subtlety as a wrecking ball. The song’s cultural footing isn’t just sonic—it’s visual. The band’s fixation with Adidas clothing during this era became a badge of identity, uniting their fanbase in both aesthetic and attitude. This branding synergy only amplifies the song’s brashness, transforming it into a cultural emblem of Korn’s image at the time. As a production artifact, “A.D.I.D.A.S.” doesn’t overreach. Instead, under Epic’s banner, its rawness becomes its strength. The recording even captures Davis’s infant son, Nathan, cooing during the breakdown—a detail that’s oddly intimate, juxtaposed against the track’s otherwise blunt force. The song resonated globally, peaking at 24th on Triple J’s “Hottest 100” of 1997 and snagging 18th on Mexican station 91X’s “Top 91 of 1997.” Its video claimed the fourth spot on *Noisecreep*’s list of best Korn videos, a testament to its visual and auditory cohesion. Ranked in 2021 by *Kerrang* as the tenth greatest Korn track and landing sixth on *Loudwire*’s 2019 “50 Greatest Korn Songs” list, “A.D.I.D.A.S.” continues to occupy a divisive yet unforgettable intersection of humor, identity, and brash vulnerability. It’s the adolescent id made audio, teetering between self-indulgence and authenticity—and fully aware of it. Featured on the 1996 album “Life Is Peachy“.
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![]() 2 . The Prodigy – Smack My Bitch Up“Smack My Bitch Up” by The Prodigy is a visceral burst of energy that seizes attention as the final single from their 1997 album, “The Fat of the Land.” Clocking in at 5:42, the track thrives on contradiction: its pounding beats and fragmented vocals—sampled from Ultramagnetic MCs’ “Give the Drummer Some” with additional contribution from Shahin Badar’s haunting vocals—are as intoxicating as they are abrasive. The controversy surrounding the song is almost inseparable from its identity. Misinterpretations of its title and lyrics tied it to misogyny and heroin culture, particularly as the slang phrase refers to injecting heroin, not physical violence. And yet, the layered ambiguity in these words ensured it was both provocation and cultural critique. When paired with Jonas Åkerlund’s iconic music video, the chaos escalates. Its first-person depiction of reckless debauchery—including violence, substance abuse, and a hit-and-run—culminates in a shockingly subversive twist: the protagonist is revealed to be a woman, underscoring the unpredictability that mirrors the track itself. Public confrontation marked the song’s live history—most notably at the 1998 Reading Festival, where The Beastie Boys attempted to sideline its performance, amplifying its defiant allure. And despite bans on multiple TV and radio stations, the track climbed to number 8 on the UK Official Singles Chart, lingering there for 16 weeks—proof that controversy, like their beats, sells. Employing ferocious production and cultural criticism, “Smack My Bitch Up” challenges its listeners as much as it hooks them. Featured on the 1997 album “The Fat of the Land“.
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![]() 3 . 808 State – Lopez“Lopez,” from 808 State’s 1996 album “Don Solaris,” captures a layered synthesis of experimental electronic music and brooding rock textures, emblematic of late-’90s genre cross-pollination. The inclusion of James Dean Bradfield, lead vocalist of Manic Street Preachers, provides an aching humanity to the track—his unmistakable timbre cutting through the intricate production with a sense of weary urgency. At its core, the song feels like a calculated negotiation between accessibility and cerebral innovation, a hallmark of 808 State’s ever-curious approach to techno and IDM. Peaking at number 20 on the UK Singles Chart, “Lopez” reflects a moment when electronic music’s underground aesthetic flirted with mainstream recognition without entirely succumbing to it. The subsequent remix by Brian Eno adds another layer of intrigue, as his penchant for sonic ambience aligns surprisingly well with the original’s darkly textured palette. Production-wise, “Lopez” mirrors the ethos of “Don Solaris”—a record that distances itself from the acid house exuberance of 808 State’s earlier years and veers into more atmospheric, introspective territory. An understated complexity runs through the track’s DNA, but its brooding nature can at times feel like it’s pulling too far toward restraint. While it isn’t an outright chart-topper, “Lopez” serves as a late-career gem, capturing a band still pushing boundaries even years after their Madchester heyday. Featured on the 1996 album “Don Solaris”.
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![]() 4 . PJ Harvey – Down By The Water“Down by the Water,” the haunting lead single from PJ Harvey’s 1995 album “To Bring You My Love,” marks a bold artistic shift for the English musician, shedding the jagged edges of her earlier indie rock and punk blues for a sinister alchemy of blues and electronica. Written by Harvey and co-produced alongside Flood and John Parish, the track trades rock’s raw immediacy for a layered, cinematic effect, thanks in part to the synthesized organ and the taut orchestral ensemble conducted by Pete Thomas. Sonia Slany, Jocelyn Pook, Jules Singleton, and Sian Bell weave a tense sonic undercurrent, their string contributions adding both texture and foreboding weight to the narrative. The lyrics, inspired by Lead Belly’s “Salty Dog Blues,” recount a mother drowning her child in an unsettling, almost hypnotic refrain: “Little fish, big fish swimming in the water / come back here, man, gimme my daughter.” This macabre storytelling, coupled with Harvey’s measured, theatrical delivery, pulls the listener into a chilling, strangely detached emotional space—a stark contrast to the visceral ferocity of her earlier discography. Commercially, the song proved inescapable, charting in the US, UK, Ireland, and Canada and taking the No. 2 spot on *Billboard’s* Modern Rock Tracks. Its Grammy nomination for Best Female Rock Vocal Performance underscored its mainstream appeal without diminishing its artistry. The accompanying Maria Mochnacz-directed music video, where Harvey prowls in a red satin dress, cemented the song’s eerie allure, earning a spot in regular MTV rotation and a nod for Best Female Video at the 1995 MTV VMAs. While some might miss the unfiltered grit of Harvey’s past, “Down by the Water” successfully embraces its stylistic departure. Moody, experimental, and powerfully unsettling, it solidifies the track as a defining moment, expansive but precise in its execution. Any complaints would fall on its overly measured pacing, which risks subsuming raw emotion in its calculated coolness. Featured on the 1995 album “To Bring You My Love“.
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![]() 5 . Enigma – Sadeness ~ Pt. 1“Sadeness (Part I)” operates like a paradox in pop music—balancing its medieval references with a distinctly 1990s aura. Released in October 1990 as the lead single from Enigma’s debut album, *MCMXC a.D.*, it straddles Gregorian chants, sensuous whispers, and contemporary production without slipping too far into pretension. The song isn’t afraid to mesh ancient and modern moods, pulling listeners into its cryptic universe with elements like a lute sound and Sandra’s hushed French vocals, which blend solemnity with a touch of intrigue. Michael Cretu, along with co-writers Fabrice Cuitad and Frank Peterson, takes a curious risk by contemplating none other than the Marquis de Sade, inserting Latin prayer-like segments that interrogate his controversial legacy. The lyrical pivot between reverence and critique is provocative enough but never truly answers its own questions, leaving the song hovering in ambiguity. The production, guided by Peterson, threads a careful line between atmospheric and overly calculated, though its cinematic ambition is undeniable. Michel Guimbard’s accompanying music video, steeped in gothic imagery and dreamlike visions of *The Gates of Hell*, amplifies the theatricality without entirely grounding the song’s thematic explorations. Commercially, “Sadeness (Part I)” thrives, charting impressively—it peaked at number five on the *Billboard* Hot 100 in the US and dominated in fourteen countries. Topping both the Dance Club Play and 12-inch Singles Sales charts, the track clearly resonated as much on dance floors as in introspective spaces. And yet, there’s an odd tension between its massive appeal and its internal seriousness. The song’s twelve million units sold worldwide might speak to its success, but the murkiness of its intentions lingers. Whether it fully synthesizes its elements or functions more as an evocative collage? That’s a riddle fitting for a project like Enigma, which itself seems to thrive on ambiguity. Featured on the 1990 album “MCMXC a.D.”.
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![]() 6 . The Beautiful South – Old Red Eyes Is Back“Old Red Eyes Is Back,” the lead single from The Beautiful South’s 1991 album “*0898 Beautiful South*,” serves as a sardonic yet poignant vignette of alcoholism, penned by Paul Heaton and Dave Rotheray. The title wryly nods to Frank Sinatra’s “*Ol’ Blue Eyes Is Back*,” but here, the glamour is replaced with the faded red of weary drinking. Heaton, himself drawing from personal encounters over a night of Guinness with a contractor from Hartburn, Stockton-on-Tees, crafts lyrics that dissect the toll of alcohol with precision. Each verse chronicles the deteriorating routine of ‘Old Red,’ a figure whose habits are as unrelenting as their consequences are grim. In contrast, the chorus steps back to reflect on the quiet sacrifices enabling this futile cycle, its resigned tone hammering home the inevitability of the narrative. Musically, the track blends Heaton’s distinctive lead vocals with background contributions from Briana Corrigan and Dave Hemingway, achieving a layered sound that cushions the barbed lyricism. The accompanying music video mirrors this duality, featuring Heaton in a dual performance as both narrator and ‘Old Red.’ The transformations are stark: one cleanly composed, the other embodying a disheveled specter of excess, his long hair and gaunt expression a visual parallel to the song’s subject matter. The pub setting, both familiar and suffocating, reinforces the cyclical entrapment depicted in the lyrics. Although peaking at number 22 on the UK Singles Chart, the song’s thematic heft transcends its chart position. It bears the hallmarks of The Beautiful South’s penchant for biting social commentary, a tradition carried over from Heaton and Hemingway’s tenure in The Housemartins. Yet where The Housemartins often leaned on jaunty optimism, this track digs firmly into bleak truths, its wit balanced against its weightiness. In “Old Red Eyes Is Back,” Heaton and Rotheray straddle the line between empathy and critique, crafting a song that is as acerbic as it is tragic. Featured on the 1992 album “0898 Beautiful South”.
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![]() 7 . Elton John – Recover Your Soul“Recover Your Soul,” released on April 1, 1998, as the second single from Elton John’s twenty-fifth studio album, “The Big Picture,” occupies an intriguing space within his vast catalog. The song, produced by Chris Thomas and written with John’s longtime collaborator Bernie Taupin, stems from a recording period spanning November 1996 to May 1997—a timeline bridging the artist’s established mastery and, perhaps, a sense of creative cruising. While it secured a respectable number 16 spot on the UK Official Singles Chart, remaining there for four weeks, its reception lacked the magnitude of its chart-topping predecessor, “Something About the Way You Look Tonight” / “Candle in the Wind 1997.” Musically, “Recover Your Soul” feels polished but restrained, a reflection of the late-’90s landscape, where soft rock settled comfortably into adult contemporary playlists. Taupin’s lyrics, delivered through John’s signature piano-backed vocals, tread familiar thematic ground—the personal, the introspective—but stop short of striking deeper emotional chords. Contextually, the track emerged during a fiery stage of John’s professional life, a period underscored by his continued triumph on global charts and an ongoing partnership with Taupin, whose lyric-first method provided the scaffolding for John’s compositions. Live renditions of the song, though limited to a handful between 1998 and 1999, hinted at its potential as an intimate live moment. Still, neither the studio release nor the sporadic performances did much to elevate the song to iconic status within John’s oeuvre. If nothing else, “Recover Your Soul” serves as a testament to John’s enduring ability to churn out charting material, even as the song itself struggles to recover a sense of urgency or spark within the broader context of his career-spanning 100 million singles sold, 57 U.S. top 40 hits, and 70 in the UK. While the track rests securely within “The Big Picture’s” framework, it neither disrupts nor deepens the narrative of an artist who has always been at his best with bolder strokes. Featured on the 1997 album “The Big Picture “.
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![]() 8 . Sinéad O’Connor – You Made Me the Thief of Your Heart“You Made Me the Thief of Your Heart” showcases Sinéad O’Connor at her most emotionally feral, a vocal performance so raw it feels like an unraveling rather than a delivery. Crafted by Bono, Gavin Friday, and Maurice Seezer for the gritty soundtrack of *In the Name of the Father*, the song leans heavily into a moody, almost suffocating melody that mirrors the film’s themes of injustice and despair. The production, helmed by Tim Simenon, layers Celtic-fiddle accents over a brooding arrangement, an evocative choice that underscores the track’s lament without tipping into melodrama. The music video—directed by *In the Name of the Father*’s Jim Sheridan—splices imagery of O’Connor in confinement with heavy-handed symbols like the raven, adding a visual layer of anguish that occasionally overstates its case. If this is a highlight of O’Connor’s career, it’s because she weaponizes her voice here, each note both a wound and a scream. Billboard likened it to the emotional impact of “Nothing Compares 2 U,” an apt comparison, though the song lacks the same melodic immediacy. Still, its chart success—peaking at number 4 in Ireland and securing spots across the UK, Finland, and the Eurochart Hot 100—speaks to its resonance, if not universality. As a standalone single included later in the 1997 compilation *So Far… The Best Of*, its isolated placement feels poignant, as if it thrives on being unaffiliated, both musically and narratively. The single offers alternate versions, including a Stained mix and an instrumental, the latter accentuating its cinematic origins. It’s not flawless, though. The track occasionally veers into the overwrought, with its intensity threatening to drown the listener rather than immerse them. Yet perhaps this is fitting, given the prison-cell claustrophobia its story evokes. Both a collaboration and a singular performance, “You Made Me the Thief of Your Heart” endures as a jagged artifact of O’Connor’s ability to channel pain into sound. Whether that makes it cathartic or exhausting for the listener may lie in how much they’re willing to lose themselves in her grief. Featured on the 1994 album “In the Name of the Father: Original Soundtrack Album”.
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![]() 9 . Bad Religion – 21st Century [Digital Boy]“21st Century (Digital Boy)” functions as a sardonic anthem for a world saturated with materialism and technological detachment. Originally recorded for Bad Religion’s 1990 album *Against the Grain*, the track reappears re-polished for 1994’s *Stranger Than Fiction* at the prompting of Atlantic Records, who smelled hit potential lurking beneath its punk ethos. The bid for broader appeal paid off, with the single climbing to number 11 on the US Alternative Airplay chart and grazing the UK Singles Chart at number 41—a feat for a song this openly contemptuous of its era. The lyrics, “I don’t know how to live, but I’ve got a lot of toys,” encapsulate the shallow comforts of modern consumer culture in a single withering stroke, while its titular nod to King Crimson’s “21st Century Schizoid Man” loosely drapes it in the fabric of art-rock lineage. If there’s irony in the track’s success, it’s that the record’s critique of ‘toys’ now rests within the catalog of media-friendly properties, from *Rock Band 2* to *Guitar Hero World Tour*. Accompanied by a Gore Verbinski-directed video featuring the band as submerged TV performers, the visual metaphor complements the track’s disdain for glossy distractions and digital noise. For all its sharp edges, there’s familiarity here—the song tips its hat to Bad Religion’s earlier works, *Suffer* and *No Control*, mining melodic and lyrical themes that feel deliberately self-referential. The tension between punk authenticity and a label-driven re-record translates into a version with tightened production but a whiff of compromise. The German Eurodance adaptation, “21st Century Digital Girl,” years later feels almost like an unintentional punchline, sanding its anger into club-friendly oblivion. Still, the original track remains a jagged mirror held up to its eponymous century, unsparing in its indictment. Featured on the 1994 album “Stranger Than Fiction”.
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![]() 10 . Pavement – Cut Your Hair“Cut Your Hair” sits comfortably at the intersection of wit and cynicism, a hallmark of Pavement’s output during their *Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain* era. Recorded between August and September 1993 at Random Falls Studio in New York City, the track is Stephen Malkmus’s thinly veiled jab at the artificiality of the music industry, lampooning its obsession with aesthetics over substance. The chorus, anchored by the refrain “Cut your hair,” feels mundane on the surface, but becomes a critique on the industry’s shallow demands—an institution where “advertising looks and chops a must” takes precedence over innovation. Musically, it’s a deceptively simple indie-rock tune, buoyed by Pavement’s signature lo-fi ethos yet polished enough to edge into alternative radio airwaves. That balance paid off commercially, driving the song into the top ten of Billboard’s Alternative Songs chart in spring 1994, where it lingered for 12 weeks, a rare feat for a track so inherently subversive. The music video underscores the song’s satire; the band sits in a barber shop, engaging in absurdist gags that crystallize the inherent futility of compromise in an image-centric market. Irritatingly catchy and endlessly sardonic, it snuck into the cultural margins, cameoing in projects like *A Very Brady Sequel* and *Pardon the Interruption*, not to mention its inclusion in *Guitar Hero 5*—appropriate for a song that mocks commodification while inevitably succumbing to it. Charting modestly at number 52 in the UK and 36 on the Official Physical Singles Chart, this track reflects the band’s laser-sharp commentary without ever sacrificing their offbeat charm. By the time it was mocked by *Beavis and Butt-Head*, “Cut Your Hair” had already cemented its place as a wry snapshot of Pavement’s distrust for an industry they simultaneously thrived in and ridiculed. Featured on the 1994 album “Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain”.
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![]() 11 . Red Hot Chili Peppers – Give It Away“Give It Away” from the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ *Blood Sugar Sex Magik* (1991) is a frenetic distillation of groove and raw exuberance, written during a jam session between John Frusciante and Flea. The main riff, reportedly born from their side project H.A.T.E., bears a punchy swagger that nods back to Black Sabbath’s “Sweet Leaf” while imbuing it with a decidedly funk-driven propulsion. Anthony Kiedis anchors the track with a chant-like refrain, “give it away, give it away, give it away now,” a mantra tinged with altruistic anecdotes involving Nina Hagen—selflessness repackaged as a feverish declaration. Frusciante’s guitar solo, recorded in one take, feels less like virtuosity and more like urgency; its rawness complements the restless energy of the track, but it skirts precision for intensity, which might leave some wanting more structural coherence. Pete Weiss adds subtle textural play with a jew’s harp—an understated quirk woven into the mix but unlikely to draw much attention. Chart-wise, the song peaked at number 9 on the UK Official Singles Chart in 1994, a moderate success that belied its later ubiquity in the band’s live sets. The Chili Peppers’ penchant for high-energy spectacle ensured its longevity onstage, echoing through Super Bowl performances and TV stunts like *Carpool Karaoke*, but the track itself, while infectious, risks wearing thin without the visual energy the band brings live. As part of a discography that helped vault Red Hot Chili Peppers into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, “Give It Away” remains both emblematic of their funk-punk ethos and a crystallization of their messier, more uneven tendencies. Featured on the 1991 album “Blood Sugar Sex Magik“. |
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![]() 12 . The Wonder Stuff – Welcome To The Cheap Seats“Welcome to the Cheap Seats” finds The Wonder Stuff navigating the intersection of live performance, visual storytelling, and compilation format, but does so without the cohesion often expected of such ventures. The phrase itself appears attached to multiple projects: a live album titled “Welcome to the Cheap Seats – Greatest Hits Live,” a video album subtitled “The Motion Picture Video,” and even an EP bearing the same name, which notably reached number 8 on the UK charts and landed at number 64 in Australia. Yet, the song’s own identity within these releases seems almost secondary—its significance eclipsed by the patchwork of contexts in which it is presented. While “Welcome to the Cheap Seats – Greatest Hits Live” showcases the band’s energy, it lacks the polish necessary to elevate its live recordings beyond a snapshot of fan service. True to the band’s origins in Stourbridge and their alternative rock ethos crafted by members Miles Hunt, Malcolm Treece, Rob Jones, and Martin Gilks, the live performances are marked by raw enthusiasm. However, this occasionally translates more to chaotic exuberance than evocative musicianship. The multimedia pairing in “The Motion Picture Video” aims to integrate the visual with the auditory, but such experiments often risk appearing disjointed rather than immersive. In contrast, the EP provides the lone point of structured success, validated by its chart performance. While not a direct outgrowth of the titular song, these rankings speak to the brief commercial zenith for The Wonder Stuff, who otherwise are more culturally regarded for their number-one collaboration with Vic Reeves on “Dizzy.” “Welcome to the Cheap Seats” exemplifies The Wonder Stuff’s willingness to experiment across formats, yet the fragmentation dampens its impact. What might work as a live favorite or clever title struggles to anchor the disparate, sometimes uneven projects it headlines. Featured on the 1991 album “Never Loved Elvis”.
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