2005 MTV Music Video Awards. No, Really.

You are about to read my review of the (illegally downloaded from the internets) 2005 MTV Music Video Awards.

It shall be presented in the format of: I shall type my thoughts while watching into this blog update page. I won’t comment on everything, just stuff that actually makes an impact on my brain. When it finishes, I’ll hit the “update journal” page. Warning: SPOILERS OR SOMETHING. BE WARNED.

Here we go.

They’re opening with a musical act. That’s kinda cool. And novel for MTV, really. This band looks slightly gothy.

Oh, I know this song. Is this Green Day or Good Charlotte? Huh, they’re actually live! No lipsyncing. Patchy sound mixing, even. I postulate that may be being deliberately bad on the sound mix, in order to convince people that it’s live. I then wonder if I’m being too cynical. Annette confirms that I am not.

They’re actually rocking out quite hard. Meedly-meedly-squeedly! Is this talent I see? Guess that means they’re not Good Charlotte. Annette cofirms that they’re Green Day.

Here’s the actual show intro. Featuring! A whole bunch of people! Some of whom I recognise! Featuring Beavis and Butthead? For serious?

Hosted by “Diddy”. I shall try to dodge lame ass jokes about Sean Combs changing his name a lot, because really that’s played out. I may not be able to resist it.

Here’s Diddy now. He’s looking cool. He has a toothpick. Real gangstas dont have no shit stuck in their teeth, yo. I thought he was going to break into a cover of “Relax” by Frankie Goes To Hollywood, there. Someone’s sampling heavily. Diddy is now dancing. Not well. Now there are many professional dancers around him. They’re dancing well. This may have been a bad call on Diddys part. Now there are fly girls. They are jiggly. In formation.

“Best male and best female video”? That’s an odd category.

Kelly Clarkson: “I didn’t have a posse, so I brought my friend Ashley!”. Awesome.

Holy Shit! Beavis and Butthead! Man .. someone must have authorised the payment of a crapload of money to Mike Judge. Heh. Beavis is playing with FIRE! FIRE! Hah! Butthead: “We’re better than Green Day.”

A whole bunch of lame in-show ads for the sponsors. Weak. Really weak. They’re talking about their companies and products, but all I hear is “It’s chill it’s fresh it’s _Noahs Arcade_!”

More presenters. Missy Elliot and “Ciara”. I know who Missy Elliot is. Oh, they’re not presenting, they’re introducing. Ludacris and Bobby Valentino. They’re rapping. They’re terrible. Sloppy timing, mumbled lyrics. Things are easier when a studio recording tech team and a skilled producer help! Here come the fly girls. Oh, and a steel drum band. That’s kinda cool. Doesn’t redeeem this mediocre act though.

Heeeere’s Diddy! He asserts that he’s a classy gentleman. He just gave away his watch to some guy in the crowd. He made a point to mention that the watch was diamond encrusted and what its brand name was. Oh yes, that is indeed class. Now he’s saying that he’s going to give $100k to the charity of the best-dressed person at the event. The people he lists are all celebs. I guess only celebs can really be well-dressed.

Diddy introduces Orlando Bloom and Kirsten Dunst. Hah! Diddy: “Please welcome one of the prettiest looking people on the planet. And she’s fine, too!”

Oh Orlando. Still the prettiest!

Kirsten can’t read a teleprompter worth a damn. best Rock Video award. I ‘ve heard of all of the bands nominated except one. That’s fucking spooky. That shouldn’t _be_. Winner: Green Day, with Boulevard of Broken Dreams. I typed that originally as “Boulevard of Borken Draems”. That’d be a cool song.

Commercial break. Back to a DJ. Holy shit, is that Grand Master Flash? It IS. Holy Shit! Not _a_ DJ, then, but _THE_ DJ. Flash invites the crowd to “put those hands up! Pump them up!”. He also commands that “Somebody say Ho-Oh!”. Annette offers that the whole “Somebody say Ho-Oh.” thing is a bit dated. I explain that he’s GRAND MASTER FLASH and he can do anything he damn well wants regardless of the date.

An obviously planted girl in the crowd asks Diddy to dance. Diddy declines. Grandmaster Flash tells Diddy not to say that until he hears This! Hah! Grandmaster Flash plays Atomic Dog. Nice. Now Diddy is dancing. Again, not very well. Annette tells me that the guy now taking the stage is a guy from “You Got Served”. He can dance. Diddy, this .. was not a good move for you to make. If you host next year, you may wish to reconsider all this dancin’

Diddy introduces .. MC Hammer? Singing U Can’t Touch This? And so it is. Okay, this at least a moderate redemption for a so far fairly mediocre show.

Jessica and Ashley Simpson come on. They’re wearing things that are like clothes, but uglier. Best R&B Video. Yawn. Winner: Alicia Keys with Karma. The song is pablum to my ears. I will forget it the instant it stops, I suspect. It’s stopped. I try to recall it…. and …nope. As expected.

Shakira performs. Lyrics are in spanish, which I still (sadly) do not speak. I shall hazard an attempt at a translation:

Lookie lookie lookie, Look at my torso.
Lookie lookie lookie, Look at my thorax
It is shapely
My chestal region is both shapely and bendy
Even during the fiesta

I’m pretty sure that’s how it goes.

Heh. Shot of someone in the crowd wearing a t-shirt that says “I’m Rick James, Bitch!”

Usher is on stage. He is smooth. Aw yeah. Damn. He’s also not wearing a hat. That’s odd, for him. He introduces some dancers. They are apparently “Krumping and Clowning”. One of them is wearing clownface makeup. This is spooky. Only because it makes me think of Jugaloos and Something Awful ragging endlessly on Jugaloos. What’s next, breakdancing furries?

Someone called Eric Roberts is presenting. Don’t know him. His smarm is overwhelming. The oil in his laugh alone is enough to get him invaded and occupied and have some freedom spread to him.

He introduces R. Kelly. Heh. R kelly must hate Dave Chapelle. I can’t even hear his name without thinking “This is the remix edition of the song about pissin’….”

Jumpcut from the music video for this terrible song. To a live version of this terrible song. Wait, what the fuck _is_ this? Holy crap. R’ Kelly. Worst. Lipsyncing. Ever. He’s doing a live version of this song, but playing all the parts himself. Lipsyncing it. Badly. Like .. incredibly badly. I guess we’re supposed to accept this and be emotionally involved in his _acting_. Good lord. This sucks. Sucks on toast. This song sucks. His act sucks. The concept sucks. I’m actually getting stupider just by watching this. It’s actually physically hurting me to watch this. This is DEEP HURTING. The cool stuff so far is being counterbalanced by this bullshit. Shakira’s thorax … MC Hammer. Orlando Bloom being “the prettiest”… all these things are fading … like tears in rain … Okay, dammit, this is STILL GOING ON and I am SERIOUSLY considering just turning it off mid-review. IT BURNS AND STINGS! In ten years, people will be looking back at this, and falling about with laughter. And the hired crowd is swaying and clapping like Led Zep have reformed and are playing Stairway for them. I want everyone involved with this dead. I want their families dead. In fact.. KILL ALL HUMANS!

Commerical break. Sweet Jesus, thank you! R Kelly. What a performer.

They’re showing highlights. Highlights of stuff that just happpened a few minutes ago. “These highlights brought to you by the Saturn Roadster!” says some eye candy girl leaning up against the aforementioned Saturn Roadster. Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot. Capitalism makes me sad sometimes.

And we’re back. Diddy is explaining his name changes. I don’t care. The crowd goes wild. whisky. Tango. Etc.

More Beavis and Butthead. Beavis is dressed as Poseidon, the God of Water. Beavis is Serculius the Roman God of Feces and Manure. There was a Roman god of Feces and Manure? This is valuable knowledge that is being imparted, here!

Fat Joe shows up. He is aptly named.

Diddy points out that the VIP area has white carpet “and some lamps”. It sure does. Once again, classy. I’m surprised that there’s no “These VIP lamps were brought to you by the all-new Saturn Roadster!”

Here’s Pharrel. His face is oddly slick and streamlined. He looks like he’s designed for rapid travel in a fluidic environment. His face would _hydroplane_.

There’s a video by someone called “Jesse McCartney”. Jesse is the single least threatening boy _ever_. There’s exactly zero things about him that might cause alarm. He could not be more boyish if he tried. Actually made me laugh out loud. I postulate that his name is really “Corey” to Annette. We both say “… Story … Allegory” We watch far too much TV.

Kelly Clarkson wins an award. “I have no idea what’s going on!”. She’s genuine and adorable. If it’s an act, it’s so good that I’m willing to accept it on face value.

Jamie Foxx appears to be singing stuff in a Ray Charles style now. That’s … kinda creepy. I mean, it sounds _good_, it just seems _wrong_.

Dane Cook the comedian is on? In the middle of a bunch of musical acts? Not sure if this will play. Nope, it didn’t. He totally died up there. Which is a shame, because his stuff is actually funny. That was a very odd act to chuck in there. I feel bad for him. These terrible jokes fell flat and were brought to you by the all-new Saturn Roadster!

Heh. Lil John. WHAT?! WHAT?! YEAH! … I think Lil John is another person who must HATE Dave Chapelle. I mention this to Annette. Annette points out that thanks to Dave Chapelle, everyone knows exactly who Lil John is. And you couldn’t buy that kind of publicity with cash money. Valid Point. WHAT?! OKAY!

Kelly Clarkson performs live. I am not expecting much rocking. I am wrong! It’s actually live! And there’s a lot of rocking in there. She’s great. And cute. Miiiighty cute for a skinny chick.

They close out the whole gig by dropping water everywhere. Now there’s a _wet_ Kelly Clarkson gyrating and bouncing around. It’s a BOLD EFFORT to recover from that R Kelly act … but it fails.

As usual, I finish watching this stuff with a vague desire to get a couple of hours of my life back.

Highlights… none, really. I will admit that the R Kelly opera thing will stay with me. I’ll be dwelling on that one. Oh yes.

And on Miss Clarkson.

This journal entry was brought to you by the all new Saturn Roadster!



  1. This was a fantastic review! I watched it on C4, and was like “OH MY GOD! HOW CAN THEY SERIOUSLY BE SHOWING THIS? THIS IS THE MOST WORST PERFORMANCE EVER!” about the R.Kelly interpretive dance. He reminded me of the fat girl doing the swan dance in Donnie Darko.

  2. Dane Cook the comedian is on? In the middle of a bunch of musical acts? Not sure if this will play. Nope, it didn’t. He totally died up there. Which is a shame, because his stuff is actually funny.

    I remember when Phil Collins died on his arse hosting one of these things many years ago. The man was not entirely unfunny, but playing to an audience that has only two settings: “screaming like rabid baboons” and “waiting to be prompted by host to scream like rabid baboons”, he just didn’t have anything to work with.

    And yes, saw about five seconds of the R Kelly thing, said “you can’t be fucking serious”, changed channels. More than anything, it reminded me of the Family Guy bit where Randy Newman is singing everything that happens…

  3. Sean I’ve-changed-my-name-so-many-times-just-to-make-it-easier-for-5-year-olds-to-say-and-shouldn’t-people-be-worried-about-this? ‘Diddy’ Combs, you mean?

  4. excellent review.

    hey didn’t 50 cent perform? and apparently there was a thing between him and fat joe, and 50 swears his head off at the end of his set – did you see that?

    • Oh yeah, for sure. I just didn’t comment on it, because it wasn’t very funny.

      Fat Joe said something like “I feel real safe here today, because of all the police protection thanks to G-Unit.” which translates to: You keep saying you’re straight up gangstas, but you run to the cops when there’s trouble.

      And in return, he got called a fat pussy or something. They bleeped it.

      Yeah, didn’t comment on that, it was boring thug lyfe stuff. Not fun at all.