A pop song's accompaniment.

When Bob Dylan was filmed flipping through sheets of paper with some of the lyrics to his song Subterranean Homesick Blues in 1965, a new artform was born: the music video. Two years later, the Beatles' clip for Strawberry Fields Forever proved nearly as seminal and influential, and cementing the music video's commercial power from 1975 on was Queen's concoction for Bohemian Rhapsody. These three clips, most notably, helped to demonstrate for artists, record companies and even everyday music fans that the concepts and themes of a song could be no less important or memorable than the songs themselves, musically. And, in fact, that they could outlast the song or (perhaps even single-handedly) help to sell them.

In the 1980s, music videos came into their own even more, thanks to Michael Jackson alone. Starting with Thriller in 1982 (which arguably helped its track's album of the same name become the biggest-selling LP ever), his videos were increasingly ambitious and expensive, with numerous Hollywood directors like John Landis and Martin Scorsese (who directed the Bad clip) at the helm. Female artists like Cyndi Lauper, a resurgent Tina Turner, Whitney Houston and most of all Madonna also flourished thanks to the music video and MTV; they even sometimes made it controversial, like when Madge danced in front of several burning crosses and freed an imprisoned black Christ figure in her Like a Prayer video (1989). And 1986 saw what I consider the best music video ever made: for Peter Gabriel's Sledgehammer. This claymation masterpiece, from director Stephen R. Johnson and pre-Wallace and Gromit Aardman Animations, deservedly won nine MTV Video Music Awards (a record unequalled to this day) and is reportedly MTV's most aired video ever. I love the song, too.

Entering the '90s, videos became less memorable for me (though the music didn't), but starting with director Samuel Bayer's unshakable creation for Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit (1991) that decade still delivered some powerful gems, like the Cranberries' immediate and movingly political clip for Zombie (1994) and the beautifully appropriate black-and-white/colour fusion for Oasis' Wonderwall (1995). Into this century, three very memorable clips for me are those for Good Charlotte's Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous (2002), Bruno Mars' Just the Way You Are (2010), Kisschasy's Opinions Won't Keep You Warm at Night (2007) and especially Green Day's Wake Me Up When September Ends (2004).

The music video has absolutely proved its cultural and commercial effectiveness, and it can stand on its own (most obviously, if you enjoy the clip but not the song). But it can overpower or contradict the accompanying song, and more so it can lack the effort and imagination that goes into the music. I think those are both quite dangerous. Like music itself, the music video should be a sincere, explicit artform, with which the artist(s) consciously tries (but not excessively) to really break the mould. Nonetheless, though, we should be thankful it has existed and endured at all. Because it has also helped music itself to endure and grow.

Some other classics:

A-ha - Take on Me (1985)
Crowded House - Better Be Home Soon (1988).
Billy Joel - We Didn't Start the Fire (1989).
New Radicals - You Get What You Give (1999).
The Dixie Chicks - Not Ready to Make Nice (2006).
Eminem - Without Me (2002).
AC/DC - It's a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock 'N' Roll) (1975)
Paul Simon - You Can Call Me Al (1986).