UNK SEZ: Eegad, we almost went through the entire Halloween season with out playing Aunt John’s Jukebox! That’s not right! It’s a Kindertrauma tradition! Luckily Aunt John dug up the clip above just in time for All Hollow’s Eve! We hope that all of our readers have a spectacular Halloween this year! Thanks for all the support and remember to eat things your dentist would not approve of and to cause random acts of mischief whenever possible! Stay safe!
My name is Ryan Clark, and I write a blog over at thrill-me.blogspot.com.
As I was trying to come up with a Traumafession, I realized that an inordinate number of my childhood traumas dealt with surreal imagery or people transforming, especially facial transformations. Many are actually music videos rather than horror movies, because I used to watch MTV a lot in the early-to-mid ‘90s; you know, back when they were still MUSIC television.
There were a few videos that scared me, but I think the one that terrified me more than all others was the video for “Sledgehammer” by PETER GABRIEL. Something about his twitching head transforming into various objects via claymation absolutely scared the CRAP out of me, and I would run screaming from the room every time that video came on.
As with many of the music videos that once had me paralyzed with fear, the song and video are among my favorites, and now I’m an avid PETER GABRIEL fan. I think if I ever met the man I would have to tell him how much his innovation frightened me — in a sense, he was MY boogeyman. I’m just thankful I didn’t see his “Shock the Monkey” video until I was older!
When I was about ten, I was at a friend’s house when a song came on the radio. It sounded at first like just a regular pop song about lost love, when the singer’s voice suddenly went from a calm tenor to a wailing soprano. To my horror, I realized the man was going insane, and the song was all about his steady descent into madness. He’d alternate from measured, reasonable sounding speech, to the desperate gibberings of the deranged.
I was listening in mounting sympathy and horror when my friend told me we should go outside. I followed, to embarrassed to ask to stay and hear the end. I couldn’t get the image of the poor lunatic, probably trussed up in a padded cell, out of my head. I kept trying to discuss it with my friend, who was more interested in talking about the recently released TERMINATOR movie.
I never could forget that haunting song. I often hoped that maybe it had ended on a happy note, but I knew in my heart that the poor singer was doomed to be a lost soul. This was in the days before the internet, so I never could track it down. Years later, I finally heard it on one of my uncle’s novelty records, right after ‘A Boy Named Sue.’
AUNT JOHN SEZ: Tip of the Santa hat to Fascination With Fear for the PJ SOLES imagery.