"Hi," writes Czech singer Nicky Tucková. "My name is Nicky and this is my first video clip." And, thus, the world was changed. Nicky's song, "Rich Boy," tells the timeless tale of a young woman who is not a [bleep]; she just wants to be rich. The video showcases Nicky's soulful singing style, her love of politics and her collection of fur-lined accessories. It's nothing short of amazing, and judging from its lyrics (Sample: "I wanna eat pork." Or, possibly, "I will not eat pork." Either way, it's perfect.), probably a joke. But that doesn't mean we can't revel in its so-bad-it's-goodness.
Of course, hers is by no means not the first video to be so awful that it's downright delightful. A lot of solidly "good" music videos can be predictible, boring. But bad videos -- the ludicrous, the ill-advised, the deliriously campy -- are the most fun. Let's check out some of the best of the worst...
Perfect lighting? Check. Animal print? Check. Children walking behind your dancers? Check. Man in a leotard? Double check. Peruvian songstress La Tigresa del Oriente -- née Juana Judith Bustos Ahuite -- brought a certain flair to her early videos that eventually got her noticed by Warner Bros. Records Mexico, with whom she signed a year contract. More recently, she has accused Lady Gaga of copying her style.
Delfín Hasta El Fin, La Tigresa Del Oriente y Wendy Sulca, "En Tus Tierras Bailaré"
When you're a reality TV star constantly at risk of falling into pop culture obscurity, be sure to create a music video for absolutely no reason at all. Seagulls are a plus.
Gerardo, "Rico Suave"
Bandanas. Leather jackets. Toplessness. Mom jeans. There's no question that Gerardo personified late '80s/early '90s beefcakeitude unlike any other. Unfortunately, that particular look grew dated quickly, and no number of ladies in painted-on dresses or hunky dudes performing the running man could save "Rico Suave" from becoming one of the most awesomely cringe-inducing music videos of our time.
As the mega-watt bass of the Tampa Amphitheatre pounds through the walls of Seven Lions' green room, Jeff Montalvo (his real name) cracks open a beer before calmly and politely sitting down for the interview.