PALMer_T...@yahoo.com (LOSE THE ATTITUDE) wrote in message news:<f392aff5.03092...@posting.google.com>...
> ?????????????????????????
One of the obituaries I read mentioned that he never even met the
girls in the video. His part was shot in front of a blue screen, and
they were composited in later...lol! So you're right, nobody knows how
he would have reacted to them...
Robert Palmer is *dead*? :\
> Well, the "Riptide" video was hardly bluescreen compositing, so he's
> met at least two of them. Besides, I think you're misinformed about
> the bluescreen thing.
From The Washington Post, September 27, 2003:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A7411-2003Sep26.html
It really doesn't matter that Robert Palmer had a long and
semi-respectable career in pop in the 1970s, and only his most avid
fans care that he recorded in the '90s and on into the '00s. For time
immemorial, the Armani-clad soul man, who died yesterday at the age of
54, will be remembered for a four-minute performance in 1985, when he
sang before a group of supermodels, all of them feigning boredom.
Fame is funny that way. The video for "Addicted to Love" became one of
the hallmark images of the '80s -- replayed a jillion times, then
imitated, then satirized -- and it stuck to Palmer like toilet paper
on a shoe. The song itself, which he wrote and sang, spent 22 weeks in
the top 100. But the song was overshadowed by the video, even though
the video was created to promote the song. In a list of greatest-ever
videos, compiled by MTV at the end of the millennium, "Love" came in
eighth, ahead of Michael Jackson's "Beat It" and Duran Duran's "Hungry
Like the Wolf."
It had something. You'd be tempted to say it was the models, except in
the mid-'80s, every other video had models. It wasn't the song, a
slowed-down take on the T. Rex approach to riff rock, or the lyrics,
which teased the timeless cliche of romance as a habit-forming
narcotic. There was something in Palmer's persona, a kind of
secret-agent suavity, that worked with those short-skirted bombshells,
all of whom looked like interchangeable mannequins, only very much
alive. They were pretending to play guitars, but weren't putting much
energy into faking it. They were just preening, in tops that were
nearly sheer. The message was: We can't actually play, silly. We're
just hot.
And the implication, too, was that Palmer knew these ladies. Or maybe
dated them. All of them. At the same time. You might be addicted to
love, buddy, but love was addicted to Robert Palmer. His big problem
was keeping his harem busy while he shot his new video.
Inevitably, "Addicted" was accused of sexism. Palmer claimed that he
was surprised by the criticism, and that he never met the models. He
lip-synced against a blue screen, he said, and the gals were edited
into the picture later. He reprised the same somnambulant-babe
aesthetic for the video "Simply Irresistible," but when he dropped his
stable of darlings, his mass audience dropped him, too. Palmer spent
his post-"Addicted" years the way he spent his pre-"Addicted" ones:
experimenting with various shades of blue-eyed American soul, R&B,
rock, blues and anything else that interested him.
Palmer started with "Sneaking Sally Through the Alley," a 1974 hit
which he'd recorded with members of Little Feat. From there, he
ventured into reggae (with a cover of Toots and the Maytals's
"Pressure Drop"), calypso-flavored pop ("Every Kind of People")
synthesizer club music ("Looking for Clues") and rock, with members of
Duran Duran for a side project called Power Station.
All that genre-leaping led to the charge of dilettantism, in part
because Palmer could jump so effortlessly and in part because he
looked too good to take seriously. If ever a rocker was too debonair
for his own good, it was Robert Palmer.
He never did an interview, and rarely did a show, without getting
around to "Addicted." He knew it was his legacy, even before Shania
Twain lifted the video's motif for her single "Man, I Feel Like a
Woman." Her version reversed the genders of the original, placing
Twain in front of a bunch of boytoys, a joshing, take-that act of
revenge. Michelle Shocked did her own parody, as did Paula Abdul and,
during a Pepsi commercial, Britney Spears.
Even when Palmer's most famous song is long forgotten, it seems, the
image of him and those leggy ladies will endure. "Addicted to Love" is
going to outlast us all. Might as well face it.
> And the implication, too, was that Palmer knew these ladies. Or maybe
> dated them. All of them. At the same time. You might be addicted to
> love, buddy, but love was addicted to Robert Palmer. His big problem
> was keeping his harem busy while he shot his new video.
What was this guy smoking? That video never gave me any such
impression.
> Inevitably, "Addicted" was accused of sexism. Palmer claimed that he
> was surprised by the criticism, and that he never met the models. He
> lip-synced against a blue screen, he said, and the gals were edited
> into the picture later.
Yes, and according to Bob Zemeckis, hoverboards were real. Besides,
they may not have participated in the other videos, but two of those
model types did work with Robert on the "Riptide" video. Those of us
who know that Robert Palmer wasn't "the guy from Led Zeppelin" have
seen more than just the one video.
Max Volume <enter_pl...@yooha.com> wrote in message news:<041020030404528672%enter_pl...@yooha.com>...
Um, I think it was more about how addictive sex and love can be to some
people, but then, I might just be missing something....
Ann
--
http://www.angelfire.com/ca/bewtifulfreak
Not the sex & love I hope!
Lamblies~
steve
On 3 Oct 2003 06:41:35 -0700, oxka...@yahoo.com (Ixkorr Oxkarr)
wrote:
> Not the sex & love I hope!
LOL....thankfully, *no* (though I'd be getting a whole lot more if hubby
didn't work such horrendously long hours)! :p
Ann
--
http://www.angelfire.com/ca/bewtifulfreak