Remember a few whiles back when I posted that video for the Virgins' single "Rich Girls"? It got me thinking. It's such a quintessentially "New York" video. It's in a dingy underground bar. Practically everything from the walls to the table tops to people's skin to the camera lens is coated in this film of sweat, condensation, and booze. The only light comes from overhead UVs and red bulbs. Everyone's wearing black. Everyone is completely, lethargically housed. No one really gives a shit because, like, you have to be sober to give a shit. Basically every person is going to die in 4 years even though no one's over the age of 26. It's basically supposed to take place from 2-5am. Save people falling over each other in a drunken stupor, no one's dancing (they jes' sittin around!).
Now. Compare with what I call the quintessentially "SoCal" video, from Rooney's "When did your Heart go Missing?" It's on a sunny, happy beach and down the Malibu strip. Everything looks like it tastes like a cool, fresh margarita or something. It's so fucking bright out them kids are wearing shades till 7pm. Everyone is wearing some form of pastel or white or gold (either in their hair or in their Hollister costume). Everyone is so naturally pepped that they can still toss a beach ball around while sipping 80,000 red plastic cups and not get pulled over for DUI in their vintage convertible. Everyone's so healthy you wonder if its their vocal cords they're singing from or their numerous, big healthy red blood cells and happy little liver. It's basically supposed to take place between 2pm-12am. Everyone dances and claps in unison.
We both may have voted Obama, but my what distances stand between New York and California...
(PS: My fave part of that Rooney video is "Why don't you wake him up and get a job?" Ha, spoken like a true McCain.)
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You bring up some very astute points, young Babylegs, and, ultimately, I feel like the differences in these videos and how they reflect differences in east/west coast ways of living also illuminates the reasons why I would never move to LA. I mean, why have fun in the sun when you can hang out in underground, dimly lit bars doing coke off of peoples' tits in the bathroom until 8am? I may or may not be talking specifically about Lit Lounge on 2nd Ave.
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