Part II, 1995-1999
We continue to explore the fractured, musical legacy of the 1990s through the lens of the dance procedural. Uh-huh, we’re not afraid to go there, so pony up. (See part one here.)
Part II, 1995-1999
We continue to explore the fractured, musical legacy of the 1990s through the lens of the dance procedural. Uh-huh, we’re not afraid to go there, so pony up. (See part one here.)
Part I, 1990-1995
Walk with me. We have a lot to talk about because frankly, I’m pretty split on the topic of 1990s hip-hop dance procedurals. Many of them are just awful (The Macarena, 1995); this much is certain. But some of them resonate positively with me for reasons that have very little to do with my actually dancing to them. As such, I tend to remember some of the decade’s most over-produced, sometimes electronic, musical moments as times of great triumph (The Humpty Dance, 1990). Let’s take a closer look at the ups and downs of this predominantly impotent musical decade.
1996 was a great year for many reasons: Nicolas Cage won an academy award, Braveheart dominated, Showgirls happened, “888” was introduced for toll-free telephone calls, and Martin Lawrence had a breakdown. I think the OJ civil trial began in 1996 too (I don’t have time for research). VH1 decided to join the awesomeness of 1996 by introducing Pop-Up Video, a music video viewing experience enhanced by the presence of trivial facts, sarcastic tidbits, and personal information from the video’s stars, director, and crew. These morsels of information were carefully interwoven into the fabric of the video, oftentimes telling a story, but sometimes just commenting on the hilarity of the video’s existence.
The Largesse salutes Conan on his way to the apex of the Late Night establishment, hosting the Tonight Show. Conan officially makes the Tonight Show must-see TV once again, and for this we are thankful. We also spit angrily in the general direction of Adolph Leno; this guy is a fucking waste. All the late night talk over the last few weeks really got us thinking about late night’s most elusive, promising young star: Craig Kilborn. Our muse in so many ways, we here at The Largesse bow in his general direction, nostalgic for what could have been.