1. I won’t even pretend to have understood any of the Hauz Khas Village quirky-ass artsy-fartsy retro Bollywood kitschy dirty-hippie vibe of the video. It’s shameful that all the New Wave symbolism and evocative imagery that the filmmakers no doubt sprinkled the video with flew right through me. On the plus side, it proves I’m not a smack addict.
2. The song, ‘Love Demons’, is exactly the kind of song I would write. That is, if I were a hardcore metalhead trying to shake off a mother of a hangover one Sunday afternoon. Which I’m not so it means absolutely nothing.
3. At what point did the camel disappear? He seemed like such a trusted old friend of the hero in the headgear and the dress lumbering through the alien galaxy desert, and it was really bothering me. Until…
4. …The hero fell into the red pit of despair and turned into an evil C-Grade Horror Villain. At which point I forgot all about the Photoshop camel and the hero in the dress and all I wanted to do was shake the villain’s hand.
5. The guy in the moustache is the real star of not just the video or the song or even YouTube or the internet. He’s the star of modern existence. He’s omniscient, a personal hero, and the indisputable spokesperson of a generation. Is he a pimp, is he a paint salesman, is he a cult-hero? I really don’t know, and don’t wish to either.
6. Him bobbing his head around like a Class A Creep with his face painted red, which happens inside the film inside the theatre inside the film (woah, all meta), is just the icing on top of a very warped cake.
7. That being said, I do think he has no soul. After that one memorable shot of him staring straight at me through the camera, twiddling his fingers and smiling, I had to peacock-feather my aura just to be sure there was no theft involved.
8. The assortment of ladies dancing in saris in slo-mo complements almost perfectly the very unique quirky/meandering/synth/drawling/languid/Bollywood leanings of Peter Cat Recording Co. and the ‘Love Demons’ section in question.
9. The people responsible for the video have either spent a shitload of cash or have used their DIY capacities to the fullest, making it a pretty impressive and slick product. Inside the theatre, the snazzy red and green lighting over a nostalgia-evoking filter on the lens allows that hollow Bollywood-era visual motif to shine through. It’s almost like the POV of Hunter S. Thompson on one of his Gonzo expeditions through the plumbing depths of commercial cinema in India. In fact, all I want to do right now is watch the original Don.
10. Traditionally, Indian rock videos have largely been under-produced, over-emotional, melodramatic, and heroic, stylistically. Of course, things have evolved from times past, when vocalists would stare into Sony HD cameras and contort their faces into the most sappy and hapless expressions, crooning their very mediocre emotions of love, peace, and solidarity – like, by just February this year, there’ve been very promising music videos featuring Adam and the Fish Eyed Poets (a valiant effort) and Sky Rabbit (very stylish fancy-shmancy Bombay - or possibly Bangalore, as I've been informed - production value-inflected).
And then there’s this video by Peter Cat Recording Co., which, while not necessarily easy to connect with – I couldn’t tell its head from its arse to be honest – is still unique and path-breaking and could even open up new avenues that bands could potentially explore thanks to the very daring formal experiments that the PCRC guys have been attempting not just through their music but also via their forays into the visual arts. It’s a small sign, if nothing else, that there’s a space for an experimental sub-subculture within the indie music community.
Steal Akhil Sood's soul from his Twitter