Tracking Reality and Fantasy: how animated music videos play with the persona and non-persona of artists / bands - Part 3

This is the third and final blog post in a series that combines the analytical and contextual writing of Shaun Magher and James Clarke with a series of first-person accounts and recollections offered by Magher relating to a series of specific case studies that illustrate the article’s area of exploration. To read Part 1, please click here. Part 2 can also be found here.

ATOM BOMB

The third exploration in this series focuses on those musicians and artists who prefer to foster a sense of obscurity and anonymity within the medium, therefore offering an alternative to the approaches to persona projection in the music video format made by Bono and Holly Johnson described in the previous two posts.

In 1996, Fluke (John Fugler and Mike Tournier) created one of the main tracks for the new PlayStation game, Wipeout 2097 (Psygnosis) entitled “Atom Bomb.” Fluke were one of several emerging electronica artists who also created tracks for the game, including Leftfield, The Chemical Brothers, The Prodigy and Orbital.

Fluke - Atom Bomb

Magher was approached in September 1996 by Virgin Records to meet with Fluke to discuss the creation of a music video for the track and how it would be possible to include game play footage within it. As Magher recalls, “Dance and Electronica artists have often turned to animation to represent their music, particularly in the case of artists such as Fluke who maintained a relative visual low profile compared to their musician contemporaries. Fluke would often prioritise conceptual and multimedia elements over personal iconography.” He continues that “I met Fluke during a mixing session, as they were working on their new album at their base in Kensal Road, London. They were just interested in my thoughts and didn’t really have an idea of what to do, apart from the need to include footage from Wipeout 2097 and didn’t want to feature in the promo themselves. It seemed like a distraction to them as they were totally focused on their album release, Risotto”. There was no request to transpose a band identity on the video and as with most electronic bands who were almost anonymous or obscured to their fan base, in terms of personal identity and their artistic output was paramount. The visual aesthetics for both John and Mike were secondary.”

Perhaps the most well-known example of this stylistic choice is electronica pioneer, Kraftwerk, who, as Moritz states, “embraced robotic uniformity in their stage performances, projecting a collective and depersonalised image that rejected rock’s individualistic heroism.” (2009).  Kraftwerk’s work always raised questions about the future of performance and subjectivity in a digitised, posthuman cultural landscape. Similar to Kraftwerk, Daft Punk demonstrate a creative choice whereby, as Reynolds notes “… the focus traditionally lies on sonic innovation rather than individual stardom” (1998). Indeed, to quote Shaviro, Kraftwerk’s persona is engaged in “effectively decentralising the performer in favour of the medium” (2003).

Magher explains that “This was a high-octane, highly complex and frustratingly difficult futuristic race game, a sequel set 100+ years further on from the original game release, with advanced designs and technology and as with the previous Wipeout game release in 1995, the Designer Republic had created all the main graphics for the game and its package, including race decals and team symbols, which provided an excellent design approach for the video wrap, and I saw this as an excellent opportunity to create a fusion of sources to mix a visual feast.”

Although there were rich ingredients available, the video needed a narrative thread. Shaun turned to one of characters within the game, a pilot named Ariel Tetsuo, who raced for team Auricom and although she only had a symbol, Magher and his team create a fully developed character, to be represented by shots of her vehicle within game footage, a live action representation and a 2D animated projections of her future career as a politician.

Of the video’s narrative arc, Magher explains that “The narrative focus was a thin thread developed over the duration, as Ariel developed dominance within the F5000 Anti-Gravity league and then graduated from the tournament with a notion to run as a political leader, relying on her race fame. One iconic hand-drawn sequence, in the style of early 90’s anime, depicted Ariel flanked by two enormous bodyguards and welcomed to a rally by an adoring crowd. The adoration is soon broken by the attempted assassination by a covert sniper atop a skyscraper who has her firmly in his sites, only to be ‘wiped-out’ by a crack security detail, in a gruesome kill scene. The production team were worried this element would be censored upon release but managed to evade most scrutiny and was allowed in many territories.

Baby’s Got An Atom Bomb proved to be a project over which Magher had creative control, as he was fully recognised as Director and the trust was instilled by both artist and record label in him. He notes that “The fact that I had spent two years as Creative Director of Manga studios (an Island company) had a significant impact on the decision to assign me as director and allowed me to really experiment with the visual mixing or graffix-stir-fry (a term that Magher coined, providing a new spelling of ‘graphics’ in the process). This was the first time I have been granted creative control of a music video, and it was liberating. I knew exactly what I wanted to achieve and being able to work with Psygnosis and the Designer Republic was a great experience. The video took 3 days to composite and edit and we utilised new digital vision mixers to create additional effects that added to the vibrancy and stir-fry. I was given earlier that year a set of Japanese manga (paperback comics) and to my surprise, they were laden with adult themes. Quite a few of the stir-fry elements are adapted scans from Japanese sex ads and adult service ads. I don’t think Fluke or the record label knew that.”

On delivery of Magher’s edit, the band decided to hire another editor to create an alternative version of the video, using all the material Shaun supplied. There are now 2 versions available to see.

In an interview with John Fugler on Genius.com, he states that “Atom Bomb’s striking video has greatly contributed to the song’s success as well. A psychedelic mish-mosh of virtual reality-inspired futuristic racing scenes and espionage-themed Japanese animation, starring a spirited and diminutive heroine, the video reflects the band perfectly: kitschy and remarkably cool.” Referring to the Live Action Ariel/Baby, Fugler continues that “It’s quite funny that the video went down so well in America. In many ways, we didn’t like the girl in the video. We didn’t think she could act very well. She was very pretty, but a bit wooden.”  Magher can confirm that the live action Ariel/Baby was in fact a model and not an actress, commenting “I think the wooden comment, most likely relates to the fact we dressed Caroline in an extremely tight latex bodysuit, which inhibited her movements. In hindsight and with a more elevated budget, we could have made in a more suitable costume. It was also great to see that Fluke cast their own Ariel/Baby in their live versions on stage”.

It would be remiss not to mention that with all animation projects (and other media) and the directors that led them, long term collaborative relationships, or to use Magher’s term “creative partnerships”, are key to the success of these ventures; particularly with Directors of Photography, Art Directors, Animators and Background artists. A mutual respect, crucial to the musical artist and director’s work together, must be in place with key contributors on any project. As Robert Sawyer notes, “…successful creative collaboration is marked by ‘group flow’, a state in which group members are attuned to each other’s inputs, building ideas in an improvisational and supportive manner.” (2007)

In terms of collaborative work, shared ownership within the specialist areas of each creative contributor must be considered. Furthermore, an acceptance of compromise over director vision is required. All production crew are cast, particularly animators, very much as an actor is cast for a role. 

As with most directors, Magher was loyal to those who worked with him in the early stages of his career and, particularly, to those who worked well below their usual commercial rates to accommodate the creation of the music videos discussed in this piece. A trust developed and an ethical approach was employed. Long-time collaborative partnerships galvanised, that would last for decades, with creatives including David Aldred, who was consistently working as Art Director and Concept artist; Gary Andrews, an ex-Disney animator, and Andy Collins, who was Magher’s go-to Director of Photography. All provided a continuity throughout his career and, at every turn, a sense of ease in the knowledge that everyone involved, across subsequent productions, knew what was expected and always met their expectations. In turn, they contributed to the success of the brand enhancement for each artist.

There’s a further point to be made that spans all the case studies explored in this piece and it centres on the archiving and maintenance of material produced. As Shaun notes: “Although the technological breakthroughs allowed the compiling of the animated and live action media, it was still created within standard definition (720 X 576 resolution) and so the videos available to view today are now of such substandard quality. Artwork is scattered to the winds, and the chance of re-mastering (completed work) is diminishing.” As such, access to archives and collections of primary materials (script, drawings and other visual language development material, completed and approved artwork) that were produced for a given project are susceptible to not being available.

The experiences as defined and discussed in these three blogs have prompted a range of questions that might deserve further exploration in subsequent material.

The questions that arise from having developed this piece are: Why are animated music videos made? Is it primarily an aesthetic choice? Is it an opportunity to establish a cutting-edge approach, with pioneering style and technology. Is it a necessity for a particular track? If the artists are not available to shoot a live action video, maybe an animation depiction will compensate ? Or, does an animated depiction of a performer allow them to remain faceless and invisible, thereby keeping the audience’s focus entirely on their music. To some degree, we also return to a most fundamental question: can the animated music video allow the performer / singer to project and develop an alternative persona, which the artists (working on the video) and the audience are unfamiliar? Does animation allow the performer to delve into a nostalgic fantasy, where anything can be created, and a childhood dream can be achieved?

**Article published: October 24, 2025**

Biography

Shaun Magher is Course Director BA (Hons) Digital Animation, MA Feature Film Development, and the Lead on the MA Film Academy at Birmingham City University Follow Shaun on Instagram at: https://www.instagram.com/shaunmagher/

James Clarke is a writer, script reader and educator in HE. He has contributed as a Visiting Lecturer to the MA Feature Film Development course at Birmingham City University. He has also taught on the MA Screenwriting course at London Film School and currently teaches on MA Writing for Script and Screen online course for Falmouth University. Follow James on Instagram at @Jameswriter72.