Greatest Music Video You'll Ever See.
Jesus Tit-fucking Christ.
Too many good moments in this video. I would like to break down some of the “highlights” of this majestic video like game film. Furthermore before I begin, may I say: God Bless the man who came up with this idea. This person will surely be seated at the Right Hand of God in the afterlife.
0:15 And here we go! First take note of the incredibly atrocious editing at the beginning, with the different planes of video approaching the viewer. Nothing brings more cinematic excitement than shifting, shitty, pixilated picture in an empty space vacuum. The director (probably in this case Walter Payton) was ready to bring the noise.
This set is essentially a rented out strip club named The Landing Strip.
0:32 Does anybody think Jim McMahon looks like a crestfallen coke dealer straight out of the third act of Boogie Nights?
0:50 I’m too distracted to pay attention to Walter Payton’s noise by the sublime dancing of whitey in the far background. Is this dancing or half-hearted pantomimed sex with a long-time wife?
By the way, even legendary running back Walter Payton couldn’t run himself away from the infamous moustaches that were sprouting so frequently during that era. I guess I can’t blame him…for one, they’re sick as shit, and two, he lives in Chicago—City of Stache.
[Note: Walter did it to “feed the needy” people. Close your eyes, here’s the scene: The homeless and disenfranchised Chicago youth of the mid eighties were penniless, disheartened and abandoned. They just wanted a Super Bowl champ to quench their thirst and provide a much needed warmth from those frigid winds that came off Lake Michigan into their cold, dark city. And Payton fed the needy. Walter Payton makes Gandhi look like a child pornographer.]
1:06 #83 Wide Receiver Willie Gault then comes in and drops a phat ass verse that would make Eminem blush with shame. “I practice all day and dance all night.” I love his little homo-erotic salsa jig simultaneous to dropping this gem of a lyric. Fifty bucks says Gault immediately started doing porn after this video. (With Walter Payton directing)
Gault then picks up where Payton left off with the political theme of justice and political strife in the world: “There’s no one here that does it like me, my Super Bowl Shuffle will set you free.”
Ah yes…it will set me free. Free from this music video? Free from noticing those feminine hips of yours? Free from the tyranny of mid-eighties communism? Tell me Gault, you bastard!
1:20 ….I’m sorry, I was hypnotized by those swinging hips of Gault again, God damn that is a good looking man.
1:25 Alright Samurai Mike, you look like the product man-child of Michael Clarke Duncan and Charles Nelson Riley. I still wouldn’t mess with this man though—I have a healthy and robust fear of those pythons he calls biceps.
1:46 Guys, I got a fever, and #8’s got the prescription.
1:51 I wonder why white guys still get stereotyped for what number 53 did? I apologize on behalf of all white guys everywhere.
2:15 What?! Where am I? What the hell is going on with this “Uh-Huh” bridge? I can just see the Payton the Director now:
Payton: “Alright guys, it’s time for the ‘Uh-huh’ montage, places everybody, places! I don’t wanna see any half hearted points either!”
#53: “Can’t I just do my dance in the background?”
Payton: “You’re cut, get the fuck off the stage.”
The Fridge: “Yo Walt, I think my pants are too tight dog.”
Payton: “You know I hear a lot of talking and am not seeing a whole lot of pointing-remember, stay in character, we’re tellin’ those offscreen naysayers that we DID win the Super Bowl, and now we’ve got to flaunt it. Hard.”
Gault: “Is this the part where I take off my pants?”
Payton: “That’s tomorrow’s shoot Willie.”
2:20 Just think of how the movie X-Men would be like if it were made in the mid-eighties and you essentially have McMahon as your rebellious, untamed and hunky Cyclops.
2:50 Whoa watch out there Linebacker Otis Wilson, that won’t be tolerated. The ref bids you GOOD DAY, SIR!
2:55 Favorite part of the video. Here comes running back Calvin Thomas to woo us with his Bill Clinton saxophone skills. How about just a nice sax groove to the melody Thomas? Oh no, Thomas has to go OFF to the music. He’s in the zone. I can just picture Thomas backstage before the cameras were rolling, shooting up a rhino’s ass load of heroine into his body like those old school jazz musicians just before improvising to some songs.
By the way, a friend brought this up to me: What the hell is number 18, backup quarterback Mike Tomczak, doing behind Thomas on sax? The low-rent, white, wannabe Jimi Hendrix is “tearing” it up on the axe, yet there’s no guitar track on this song whatsoever. All I hear is Thomas on a heroine binge and those shitty synth drum beats so often used in the eighties.
[Note: By the way, what the hell was going on in the eighties with the style? The style of…everything? Burgundy dominating color schemes in fashion, moustaches, weird sunglasses and blown out hair? No wonder cocaine was so popular.]
3:20 Please make it stop. #4 would be none other than Steve Fuller, back up QB. I’m pretty sure The Simpsons based their acne-faced, awkward pubescent teenage character on Fuller. Love how the black guy in the background has to help Fuller mime out the act of passing, as if Fuller doesn’t do this “passing” thing for a living.
Fuller looks like a nervous stage act at the Apollo, eyeing the wings out of his periph with a twinge of horror on his face.
And yes, when he said “Super Bowl Shuffle,” his voiced cracked on “Super.” After the video, Fuller’s testicles finally dropped.
4:19 I keep thinking #95 Defensive End Richard Dent is about either A) Start dropping f-bombs, B) Say “Fuck the Shuffle,” jump off the stage and start banging that woman referee or C) slip into a coma. He starts each lyric with inflection and (relative) excitement in his voice…then he just starts to trail off like he took one too many vicodin pills from a nearby Terrell Owens’ dad.
4:39 Alright, just when I think the white guys have outdone themselves, here comes #45 free safety Gary Fencik. “We’re going to do the shuffle then ring your bell.” I think it’s safe to say that by “ring” he meant “gobble” and by “bell” he meant “cock.”
4:46 Oh, thank God. I thought for a second there the editor had lost sight of his roots. In this case, we’ve got still frames of The Fridge in another space-time continuum, making sure to bring it to the fourth wall on certain drum beats of the song. I can just picture Payton excitedly screaming at the editor in the cutting room: “No you fuckin’ didn’t! That’s the tightest graphic shit I ever seen son!” while ripping off his jersey and waving it around his head like a helicopter as if in a Petey Pablo music video.
4:55 Alright Fridge, you can’t rap. Where’s my boy Thomas?
5:09 Oh there he is.
5:46 Maybe my favorite part of the music video. Generally I have no problem with the high five, but the more elevated the high five in terms of altitude, the more exhibition of doucheness. Here, we have two Bears that decide to “reach for the sky” and take care of some business.
5:56 I must say though, I’m a little disappointed in the editor at the end of this video clip. I needed a longer, much more dramatic fade to black. Essentially this is the Lord of the Rings of music videos, and I can't bear to see it end. You need to gradually ease me out of this ecstasy of athletes, jigs, and “hip hop,” thus my insatiable need for a long, drawn out, fade. I thank the Holy Ghost they came back with an encore though.
I can only dream of what Pac Man Jones would do if he was in this video. Do the shuffle? Rock the saxophone? Rape a pointy breasted Madonna in the background while using a free hand to make it rain? The possibilities are almost as endless as the music video itself.
Ah yes, the Super Bowl Shufflin’ Crew. I love that the game of football has evolved to be faster, stronger and harder hitting, as much as I love the fact that hip hop has transgressed from the “Super Bowl Shufflin’ Crew” into the “7th Floor Crew” of the ’05 Miami Hurricanes. (See link: http://www.myspace.com/seventhfloorcrew)
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