Yeah, Mama, This Must Be My Dream...

I have a horrible memory. I don’t know why really, I’ve never bumped my head or anything. I’m just…forgetful. This being said, I was racking my brain trying to come up with the very first music video I can remember viewing. I’m sure it was probably some Disney-Channel, Cheetah-Girl nonsense but of course I don’t remember any of those music videos vividly enough to write about them. I also thought of some cop-outs: videos that I am sure were not some of the first I’d seen, but that had somehow managed to stay stored in my memory (“Fell in Love with a Girl,” “Baby One More Time”). I could not only remember the Lego Jack White and the Britney dancing around with fuzzy scrunchies in her hair, but I could remember who I was at the time those videos came out, a writing assignment in the bag for sure!

But then, an older memory weaseled its way out of the folds of grey matter in my skull and I could not shake it in favor of one of the simpler options. There I was, roly-poly about seven years old, sitting Indian-style on the carpeted floor of our basement, watching Marcy Playground’s “Sex and Candy” with my face about eight inches from the television screen.



I can remember being shocked at this world outside of my family’s sponge-painted, wall-papered walls; this world where sex and sensuality was everywhere, oozing from lead-singer John Wozniack’s story as well as his voice. I could vaguely remember some details of the actual video, mainly the rolling, checkered hills. However, there were many things that I could not remember about the video or that I had fabricated in my young mind. Firstly, I had the misconstrued idea that there was actually a woman in the video. For some reason, I pictured her with ruby lips and sitting in a chair…but she was no where to be found. I also had no recollection of the surreal, sort of Tim-Burton feel of the action in the video. I did not remember the spider or his shadow, the digging in drawers for panties, or chilling end of the song where Wozniack drowns (or drifts to sleep?) in a pool of teal liquid.

I suppose all of these weird, almost typical of 90s grunge/alt rock videos elements were birthed out of the song’s lyrics: “mama this surely is a dream.” But, I don’t associate this music video with surrealism, or even its genre or the time period in which it was released. The exact moment when I viewed this video on my basement’s living room floor was the start of my slow loss of innocence; it was the realization of things gritty and slick and un-fluffed and impure.