Mika – Teardrop
Flashing a permanently wide-eyed, mouth-breathing, minimum-brain-function gawp at every sight that slides uncontrollably before his freely-swivelling eyes, Mika’s demeanour suggests a man still impressed by the sudden excitement provided by a pop-up toaster.
And, dressed in the manner of a Synesthete who had just woken from a 25-year coma and subsequently refused all fashion assistance, Mika is here to unleash merry hell on the boundaries of outré behaviour. Pushing right past kooky with all the grace of a one-legged peacock, he arrives right back at the start, landing in a yellowing puddle miserably spelling out the words ‘Hellishly Bland’.
Yet Mika’s 10-second Primark trolley-dash mix ‘n’ match clothing style is merely an outward projection of his true calling – to render useless all he comes into contact with, via the medium of obtuse and tedious faux-weirdness.
As an assault on all that is good in the world, you have to admire the man’s gusto in his frankly inspired choice of Massive Attack’s heart-stoppingly beautiful Teardrop as his first victim.
Admiration too, for how he tears into his task with such fiendish relish. If I were to lock myself in a remote cabin with only a ream of A4 paper, a nursery-school sized box of Crayola and five quarts of whisky for company, I could not come up with an outline for destroying Teardrop with anything approaching the cunning, subtlety and outright unexpectedness of Mika’s.
His plan? Simple. Sing the song in the style of the bastard lovechild of Mickey Mouse and the paedophile off Family Guy. God help us, one and all.
If you were wondering what the usually concentrated look was on Mika’s face as the song fades, it is the same uncomfortable, yet strangely satisfying expression I too would pull if I was experiencing my own bloated sense of self-worth slippily disappearing up my fundament.
For this is a cover that is deliriously enjoyable in its filo pastry-like layers of delicious stupidity, and pumped full of woolly absurdity. A cover that time and again is made increasingly stupefying as Mika grins along at his own kooky daring, his own shimmering brilliance.
After the whole sorry spectacle finally ends, BBC DJ Jo Whiley digs deep and congratulates him with the sort of ‘well done’ that I reserve for the times when very young children proudly present me with a handful of their own faeces. And as a metaphor for the whole mindless, worthless catastrophe, I can think of no more apt parallel to draw.
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It’s the light hand gesture as the drum role finishes near the end that’s most irritating – as though to indicate that he’s just putting the finishing touches on a grand work of art (blisteringly unaware that he has, in fact, just stamped on one).
Ha! Yes – this video is full of delightful nuances just like that, all of which are carefully designed to induce extreme anger in all who witness it. Expect Mika, who is naturally too busy bathing in his own brilliance to notice.
I wish Mika would just fuck off.
so absolutely wrong. and what the hell was with that “amazing” nonsense from the host? is she deaf? amusing nonetheless.