There was a time in the mid-1980s when I discovered some of the alternative music coming out of different countries on the European continent. I remember especially being drawn to music from both Germany and France. The video was as out-there as what was coming from the UK and the US, and the sounds were fun, new, different, and unique, primarily in that I did not understand a single word any of the artists were singing, and it did not matter at all.
Somewhere in 1984, we began to come across some video alternatives to the already very alternative music we were receiving from different record companies and sources looking for airplay. Working in a video club in the early 1980s was itself an experiment in the music and nightclub industry. We were generating business a la MTV by inviting people in for cocktails and ambiance by having them able to stare in any direction and see a screen playing whatever it was we chose for that moment. Granted, The few video bars in the country at that early period were all in urban and gay areas which also meant the screens could provide an excuse to stare in the direction of another boy.
As the MTV era began in August of 1981 the three video bars began their own stories. In San Francisco, the Midnight Sun, a bar that had already been established since the early 1970s, was the first to begin playing videos as a mainstay to the nightclub audiences. The bar I helped open and worked at throughout the 1980s was Revolver, located at Larrabee and Santa Monica boulevards and launching soon after (about a year) the revolutionary video channel in August of 1982. Not too long after that came Private Eyes, an extravagant video bar In New York City between Chelsea and the Flatiron District. This club boasted over 34 state-of-the-art screens and hosted all manner of parties as only a club in NYC could do.
In the mid-1980s the club VJs would invite each other to visit and potentially play for the other clubs. I remember visiting both The Midnight Sun and Private Eyes, but only as a guest of the management. I don’t recall ever having done more than visit their booths and enjoy the camaraderie and slight feeling of celebrity being from Revolver would bring us during that period. Revolver was an amazing club in its day. We were creative beyond any normal club because of the capability to build out edits and play with themes that didn’t always require the thump, thump, thump of a dance floor. That being said, the dance floor was often missed by patrons and although Revolver had a tried-and-true patronage for many years, there were those who would use video clubs as a lighter form of entertainment and a steppingstone to the larger venues. Admittedly, outside of the free drinks on my nights off because of my employment, I often preferred to go out and dance when I wasn’t the VJ.
Most of the European splash the video clubs enjoyed was the obvious influence of the United Kingdom, which most of the bigger bands and artists hailed from in that era. We began to get tastes of music from non-English speaking countries that would only translate based on a memorable tune or a bona fide headscratcher of a video. The clubs already had been introduced to the likes of dance or radio hits such as “Vamos a la Playa” by Righeira, “Je T’aime” by Vicious Pink, “Da Da Da” by Trio, “Bamboléo” by the Gipsy Kings, and “Voyage, Voyage” by Desireless.
There were also the larger hits that included songs like “Rock Me Amadeus” by Falco, “Tour de France” by Kraftwerk,” “99 Luftballoons” by Nena, “Major Tom” by Peter Schilling (both before redone in English), “Sadeness (Part I)” by Enigma, and “Jet Boy Jet Girl” by Plastic Bertrand. All we could do was mouth the words as if we knew what we were singing. But the entertainment value both on the video screen and the dance floor were both undeniable and most of these songs have become triggers for me one way or the other over time.
But it was the French group Les Rita Mitsouko that stole the show for me during the era with the playful and campy eccentricity of songs like “Marcia Baïla,” “C’est Comme Ça,” “Andy,” and so many more. The group was comprised of two friends called Catherine Ringer and Fred Chichin. The first time I believe I was introduced was in New York at Private Eyes in 1984 when the VJ played Marcia Baïla, and I could not stop watching the oddness on the plethora of screens all around me. Here was this fantastically dressed and coiffed group of coffee shop beatnik sorts dancing and emoting their way across a faux Gaultier art-designed roof somewhere in Paris. The song, written by the lead duo, was done for a dancer who had worked with the group up until her death from breast cancer in 1981. The dancer’s name was Marcia, and the word baïla means dance.
I remember bringing Marcia Baïla to the Revolver audience with my fellow VJs at the club when we returned from NYC. The quirkier of the videos always found their way to more requests and for some time after its California club debut “Marcia Baïla,” “C’est Comme Ça,” and “Andy” became regularly played staples between shows like “Dynasty”, and “The Golden Girls,” on comedy nights, request nights, or even a break on Broadway night, the videos being so theatrical themselves.
Today Catherine Ringer, like myself, is 65 years old and an icon of French musical history (unlike myself). A piece of time in my life with lyrics I would have to translate again in order to fully know what is being said. The videos will always be camp and fun, but the magical trick was that the video looked almost dated then, so it doesn’t feel so comically old today. Vive la France. Vive Les Rita Mitsouko.
Marcia, elle danse sur du satin, de la rayonne
Du polystyrène expansé à ses pieds
Marcia danse avec des jambes
Aiguisées comme des couperets
Deux flèches qui donnent des idées
Des sensations
Marcia, elle est maigre
Belle en scène, belle comme à la ville
La voir danser me transforme en excité