2 In A Tent, Fine Young Cannibals, Pulp, R.E.M., Soul Asylum, Björk, The Verve, Oasis, Wet Wet Wet, BT, Madonna, Take That
They are the performers of twelve vintage amusing, puzzling and sometimes shocking videos of songs that were ranked in various charts, this week 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 02/52 – click here and here
Tracklist
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1 . 2 In A Tent – When I’m Cleaning Windows [Turned Out Nice Again]2 In A Tent’s rendition of “When I’m Cleaning Windows [Turned Out Nice Again]” offers a playful twist on George Formby’s old favorite from 1936, repurposing its cheeky wit for the 90s club scene. This 1994 single, produced by Stock & Aitken, captures the essence of a cultural remix: taking something quintessentially British, like Formby’s ukulele and innuendos, and pairing it with a pulsing electronic groove. The result? A hybrid track that smirks at both its source material and its own hyper-modern reimagination. While by no means a towering artistic achievement, it’s hard to deny the sheer silliness is contagious—a quality that helped it land at No. 23 on the UK Singles Chart. The music video further leans into its retro-playful aesthetic, bouncing between 1930s charm and over-the-top 90s dance stylings, capturing the clash of nostalgia with irony-laden updates. Its title, a nod to Formby’s catchphrase, seals the track as a tongue-in-cheek tribute rather than a serious attempt at revolutionizing pop music. The song exists as part of a broader cultural moment when the revival of classic tracks in dance styles mirrored audiences’ desire to bridge generational quirks with club-ready rhythms. Though it lacks the depth or ambition for broader acclaim, “When I’m Cleaning Windows [Turned Out Nice Again]” thrives on its unabashed comedic charm, marking its spot in the realm of novelty singles with flair.
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2 . Fine Young Cannibals – I’m Not the Man I Used to Be“I’m Not the Man I Used to Be” by Fine Young Cannibals reflects a moment of meditative self-realization, blending introspective lyrics with a rhythmic foundation drawn from James Brown’s iconic “Hot Pants” drum break. The track’s restrained groove is a divergence from the band’s more upbeat hits, creating a soundscape that walks the tightrope between melancholy and resilience. Roland Gift’s distinctive vocal delivery oscillates between reflective and yearning, underscoring the theme of personal change without ever tipping into melodrama. Released as part of their 1988 album “The Raw & the Cooked,” the song doesn’t aggressively demand attention, yet its nuanced layering ensures it lingers far beyond its runtime. While not the album’s runaway success, it carved a respectable spot on the UK Singles Chart at number 20, offering a quieter counterpoint to the album’s chart-topping triumphs like “She Drives Me Crazy.” The song’s sparse black-and-white video mirrors its introspection, foregoing ostentatious displays for a stripped-back presentation that complements its reflective essence. Though the song didn’t dominate the charts, its influence lies in its ability to offer depth on an otherwise commercially charged record. “The Raw & the Cooked” as a whole—earning Brit Awards and Grammy nods—proved that sometimes introspection can coexist with pop success, leaving a track like this to resonate with those willing to pause and listen. Featured on the 1989 album “The Raw & the Cooked”.
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3 . Pulp – Mis-ShapesPulp’s “Mis-Shapes” isn’t just a Britpop track; it’s a statement—sharp-edged and defiant, laden with anthemic determination to carve space for everyone who’s ever felt out of place. Sitting on the opening slot of *Different Class*—an album practically dripping in sardonic brilliance—this track captures a moment when rebellion wasn’t just fashionable but urgently necessary. Its chugging riff and infectious melody wrap themselves around lyrics that, though deceptively jaunty, cut with precision, celebrating nonconformity and condemning exclusionary cliques. The band doesn’t bother with subtlety here, and why should they? At its core, the track is an unapologetic call to arms for the misshapen and marginalized, delivered with Jarvis Cocker’s iconic, half-sneering, half-languid vocals. And yet, amidst the rallying cry of “We’ll use the one thing we’ve got more of, that’s our minds,” it’s never preachy; instead, it feels like a sly grin traded across the room with someone just as out of step as you. If the lived-in glamour of Britpop ever had a real voice, it was probably Pulp—capturing the grimy underbelly of a movement too often wrapped in the sheen of Union Jack optimism. The track’s double A-side pairing with “Sorted for E’s & Wizz” cemented its cultural significance, managing to hit No. 2 on the UK charts. And yet, there’s a fullness to “Mis-Shapes” that feels genuinely timeless, even as it remains indelibly marked by its mid-’90s origins. The accompanying video, directed by Pedro Romhanyi, drives the message further home, pairing stark imagery with scenes brimming with working-class grit, a reminder that the song exists somewhere between social commentary and personal catharsis. Closing out, this is Pulp at their most sharply observant, presenting rebellion less as an idyllic dream and more as a scrappy, necessary fight for survival on the edges of music, culture, and identity. Featured on the 1995 album “Different Class”.
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4 . R.E.M. – Man On The MoonR.E.M.’s “Man on the Moon,” anchored on their 1992 album “Automatic for the People,” is a curious mix of homage and ambiguity. The track leans into the eccentricities of comedian Andy Kaufman, nodding to his Elvis impersonations and infamous death hoax with a playful yet haunting tone. Crafted by Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, Mike Mills, and Bill Berry, the song threads themes of skepticism and belief into its alternative rock fabric, peaking at No. 30 on the Billboard Hot 100 and resonating globally with alternative music fans. The paired music video, directed by Peter Care, offers stark desert landscapes punctuated by surreal imagery, a perfect visual parallel to Kaufman’s unpredictable persona. Its lyrics, layered with cultural references, invite contemplation about the blurred line between reality and performance, a theme Kaufman himself embodied throughout his career. The song later carried extra weight as the title track for the 1999 Kaufman biopic, where its reflective qualities complemented Jim Carrey’s interpretation of Kaufman’s life. While it never obtained direct accolades, its standing as a fan favorite secured its spot on collections like “In Time: The Best of R.E.M. 1988–2003.” With a sound that balances melancholy and wit, “Man on the Moon” occupies a unique place in R.E.M.’s catalog, capturing their knack for introspection without losing their sense of humor. Featured on the 1992 album “Automatic for the People“.
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5 . Soul Asylum – Runaway TrainReleased in 1993, Soul Asylum’s “Runaway Train” captured a moment in the alt-rock surge of the early ’90s—gritty, earnest, and unpolished, but polished enough to climb to No. 5 on the Billboard Hot 100. The production, helmed by Michael Beinhorn, emphasizes a somber tone that chugs along with its melancholic melody, a blend of acoustic strumming and restrained percussion that feels less like a train barreling forward and more like one limping away from a collision. Lyrically, the song wrestles with themes of despair and alienation, riding the coattails of the decade’s fixation on emotional vulnerability packaged for mass consumption. Dave Pirner’s raspy vocals add a raw sincerity, though they occasionally stumble into the territory of overstatement, toeing the line between heartfelt and heavy-handed. The music video remains the definitive legacy of the track—a groundbreaking, albeit grim, PSA for missing children that elevated the song beyond its radio appeal. Director Tony Kaye’s stark visuals intersperse sobering mugshots of missing kids, an unusual artistic choice for the MTV era, earning the video a nomination at the 1993 VMAs. Not merely a marketing tool, the video reportedly led to several children being located, creating a ripple effect where art, activism, and pop culture intersected uneasily. The performance at the MTV Video Music Awards that year felt like a moment of reckoning for the band, a mid-tier group suddenly thrust into a cultural conversation bigger than their catalog. With Grammy recognition for Best Rock Song and triple-platinum certification for the album, its success is undeniable. Still, “Runaway Train” exists within the quiet irony of rock ballads that find fame lamenting its cost, a dark anthem that gained mass appeal without losing its underdog edge—or perhaps because of it. Featured on the 1992 album “Grave Dancers Union “.
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6 . Björk – Big Time SensualityBjörk’s “Big Time Sensuality” is a shimmering electronic track that ripples with exhilaration and liberation, capturing the singer’s transition from Icelandic indie oddity to global figure of boundary-pushing pop. Teaming up with producer Nellee Hooper, who sculpted the sound of her 1993 debut album *Debut*, the song radiates energy in its minimalist, beat-driven instrumentation and Björk’s ecstatic vocal delivery. The lyrics pulsate with a sense of emotional urgency, the kind that transforms joy into a powerful, almost physical presence, inviting listeners to embrace vulnerability as a form of strength. Its accompanying video, a low-tech yet visually compelling piece filmed by Stéphane Sednaoui, distills this spirit into a striking image: Björk, alive and unrestrained, moving with abandon atop a flatbed truck rolling through Manhattan. Chart performance aside, the track’s true resonance comes through its embodiment of 1990s electronic music’s promise to bring intimacy to the most synthetic of sounds. By melding raw human expression with meticulous production, “Big Time Sensuality” marked Björk as a compelling anomaly in an era increasingly defined by polished pop acts and grunge apostles. Featured on the 1993 album “Debut “.
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7 . The Verve – Bitter Sweet SymphonyThe Verve’s “Bitter Sweet Symphony,” released in the summer of 1997, arrives with the weight of a crushed dream wrapped in swelling strings and existential brooding. Borrowing a lush orchestral sample from an Andrew Oldham Orchestra take on The Rolling Stones’ “The Last Time,” it triggered a legal skirmish so legendary, it rivaled the track’s own cultural staying power. What’s striking about the song is its ability to take a relatively straightforward loop and elevate it into a meditation on ambition, dissatisfaction, and the predictability of struggle. It topped out at No. 2 in the UK charts, a peak that mirrors its narrative of almost reaching something transcendent but not quite. The accompanying video features Richard Ashcroft strolling defiantly through crowded London streets, brushing off distractions with the kind of deliberate monotony that feels oddly hypnotic and just the right shade of self-indulgent for Britpop in its final throes. From its initially borrowed identity to its eventual reclamation in 2019, when Jagger and Richards gave back their royalties and songwriting credits, the track remains a masterclass in pop irony—both borrowed and original, timeless and chained to its moment. Underneath the lawsuit and the accolades lies a song that doesn’t so much resolve as it perpetually loops—a shard of ambition you’re cursed to carry, yet unable to let go. Featured on the 1997 album “Urban Hymns“.
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8 . Oasis – WonderwallReleased in 1995, “Wonderwall” by Oasis channels an understated magic that few songs of its kind sustain. Boasting a melancholic melody paired with lyrics straddling the line between cryptic and universal, it became a hallmark of ’90s Britpop. Noel Gallagher penned this ode to uncertainty and longing, with his brother Liam’s nasal, almost sneering vocals giving it an edge. Its chord progression suggests simplicity, yet carries a yearning sophistication, a tension reflected in its lines about devotion and self-doubt. Despite its near-ubiquity, the track never secured the top spot on the UK charts, peaking at No. 2—something that feels ironic given its cultural footprint. In the U.S., its crossover appeal found it at No. 8 on the Billboard Hot 100. Yet these rankings seem trivial faced with its legacy. The accompanying monochrome music video, while not groundbreaking, became synonymous with a certain ’90s visual style—it didn’t just define a moment, it became the mood. Played endlessly at coffee shops or teenage bedrooms, the song cemented its stay as an ever-present hum of nostalgia. Over the decades, “Wonderwall” has inspired countless covers, with renditions ranging from poignant to parody. Whether Ryan Adams’ stripped-back melancholy or Jay-Z’s playfully unexpected take, it remains fertile ground for reinvention, pointing to its malleability as a cultural artifact. If the ’90s had a sound, “Wonderwall” was its introspective pause, its erratic heartbeat. To this day, its overplayed genius prompts love, eye-rolls, or both—yet no one forgets the first time they heard it. Few songs bridge such contradictions so effortlessly. Featured on the 1995 album “(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?“.
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9 . Wet Wet Wet – Goodnight GirlReleased in 1991 and prominently featured on Wet Wet Wet’s fourth studio album “High on the Happy Side,” “Goodnight Girl” marks a standout moment in the band’s career. Co-written by all four members—Marti Pellow, Graeme Clark, Neil Mitchell, and Tommy Cunningham—the track carried a reflective vulnerability that allowed it to dominate the UK Singles Chart for four weeks in early 1992. The lyrics, swirling with heartbreak and longing, tapped into a universal sentimentality, giving the song a resonance that extended well beyond its time of release. Its success wasn’t confined to the UK either, as it climbed to number two in Ireland and secured top 20 positions in countries like Germany and Australia, proving its broader appeal. The production, helmed by Graeme Duffin under Phonogram Records, leaned into a melancholic yet polished pop-ballad aesthetic, making the song equally suited for late-night radio as it was for wedding playlists. Its live performance during the “Live at the Castle” concert in Stirling added another layer to its legacy, with the show later immortalized in a live album release. Visually, the accompanying music video sealed the deal with its emotionally charged, intimate ambiance—perfectly mirroring the song’s reflective tones. For a track often tagged as both heartfelt and bittersweet, it struck a rare balance between emotional depth and commercial accessibility, cementing its status as a high watermark in Wet Wet Wet’s catalog. Featured on the 1992 album “High on the Happy Side”.
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10 . BT – Flaming JuneBT’s “Flaming June” is a 1997 entry on the timeline of electronic evolution, offering a meticulous and heady mix of trance and progressive elements that immediately set it apart. The track, a brainchild of BT and Paul van Dyk, finds its strength in its architectural precision—there’s a mathematical brilliance to its arpeggiated synths and mood-shifting chord progressions that belies its euphoric essence. It seduces less with bombast than through its cascading layers of melody, intricately sliced and diced by Transeau’s now-famous stutter edit techniques, cementing the soundscape as busy yet deliberated, chaotic but controlled. While other trance tracks might coast on singular hooks for radio appeal, “Flaming June” thrives in its refusal to take the easy route; its energy derives from its constant movement, pushing past genre expectations without crumbling under them. Chart placements tellingly undersell the piece—it peaked at #19 on U.S. dance charts—but its real legacy lies in its afterlife as an enduring fixture in club and DJ circuit mythology, its chords stirring the kind of emotional reverie that feels simultaneously urgent and timeless. It’s not a casual listen. It’s a trance soundtrack for people comfortable losing themselves to it, knowing full well it’s more than likely to take them somewhere altogether unpredictable. Featured on the 1997 album “ESCM “.
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11 . Madonna – You’ll SeeMadonna’s “You’ll See” arrived in 1995 as a sharp pivot from her provocateur persona, delivering a ballad that was as emotionally restrained as it was defiantly assertive. Written and produced alongside David Foster, the track wears its flamenco-tinged pop aesthetic like an understated badge of sophistication, trading in bombast for minimalism. Lyrically, it’s both a declaration of independence and a quiet assertion of self-worth, elegantly skating the line between empowerment and melancholy. The production strips away excess, throwing Madonna’s vocals to the forefront, where their rawer edges carve out an intimacy often absent in her more polished hits. Commercially, the song carved out space on charts worldwide, making notable dents in both the U.S. and UK markets, where it landed at number six and five respectively. The accompanying video, a continuation of 1994’s “Take a Bow,” ditches the romantic theatrics for a narrative steeped in closure and autonomy, rendered with Haussman’s cinematic finesse. For those fluent in multilingual pop strategies, the Spanish version, “Verás,” serves as both a marketing maneuver and a nod to the Latin audience’s importance in her global calculus. “You’ll See” stands as a reminder of Madonna’s ability to shift gears without losing sight of the pop ethos, proving that quiet resolve can hit just as hard as spectacle. Featured on the 1995 album “Something to Remember”. |
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12 . Take That – BabeTake That’s “Babe,” dropped in December 1993, stands as an interesting pivot in the band’s trajectory, offering Mark Owen the lead vocalist spotlight for a change, while Gary Barlow stepped back, penning the track instead. A slick pop ballad drenched in nostalgia, it grapples with the themes of lost love and rekindled connections, as if stitched together from pages of a sentimental diary. The single pulled no punches on the UK Singles Chart, comfortably occupying the number-one slot for a week—a moment of triumph for the band as they racked up their third chart-topping hit. Beyond British shores, its charm wasn’t lost in translation, finding cozy spots within the top 10 charts in Ireland, Germany, and beyond, proving its resonance across Europe. Produced with precision by Nigel Wright and polished under the RCA Records banner, the song showcases vocal harmonies tailor-made to tug at heartstrings, as was standard for Take That’s early output. But the cherry on the bittersweet cake? Its music video—a low-key narrative gem wherein Owen plays a man yearning for a past love, seamlessly marrying the lyrics with a visual storyline steeped in earnestness. Fans were treated to live renditions during celebrated events like the 1993 “Top of the Pops Christmas Special,” cementing the track as a beloved moment in the band’s history. The handwritten-lyrics-on-the-single art was an oddly personal touch, breaking from glossy tradition and adding a tang of intimacy to the release. Put simply, “Babe” solidified its place not merely as a chart statistic but as an emotional checkpoint in the rise of Take That’s early balladry charm, nestled within the larger framework of their multi-platinum “Everything Changes” era. Featured on the 1993 album “Everything Changes”.
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