First Watch: Tunabunny, 'Cross Wire Technique' : All Songs Considered Tunabunny has a head-spinning good time making music. That much is unmistakable from watching the band's freewheeling music video.
NPR logo Tunabunny, 'Cross Wire Technique'

Tunabunny, 'Cross Wire Technique'

Courtesy of the artist
Courtesy of the artist

Tunabunny's members have fun making music together. That much is unmistakable from watching the band's freewheeling video for "Cross Wire Technique."

The Georgia band makes scuzzy, effervescent basement pop, and was one of the bands we were most excited to see at CMJ earlier this year.

The group's latest video matches the energy and carefree power of its music. It depicts, in quick flashes and head-spinning camera twirls, band members and longtime friends Brigette Herron, Mary Jane Hassell, Chloe Tewksbury and Scott Creney goofing off in a local coffee-roasting warehouse. It's exactly the jubilant and lighthearted video you'd expect from four good friends. By the end, you'll likely want to be friends with them, too.

We asked Tunabunny and director Ted Kuhn to describe their inspiration and creative process for the video. Together, they had this to say about making "Cross Wire Technique":

"Cross Wire Technique" represents an anomaly of sorts in the Tunabunny catalog, allowing them to indulge their love for disco and dance pop. One critic dubbed it "Olivia Newton Tremor Control." It's a unique blend of Donna Summer and post-punk, of Swell Maps and Kylie Minogue, with all kinds of ominous psychedelia bubbling along the surface.

Its lyrics contain allusions to the darkest passages of Wuthering Heights: "When I am dead, lay me on the ground, lay me on top of him." It's a song that writhes in anxiety over the inevitable ending that awaits us all, even as it is laughing itself to death.

Filming during an abnormally freezing night in Athens, Ga., at a local coffee-roasting warehouse, director Ted Kuhn shot it on a Thursday, edited it on a Saturday and uploaded it on a Sunday.

Says Kuhn, "My driving goal was to generate images that were as striking and resonant as the song itself. Filming Tunabunny was like filming church bells at the stroke of midnight — just a magical night for all concerned. Even the shots that didn't go according to plan took on a beauty and relevance that went beyond what we had initially hoped for.

"It's homemade; it's sinister," he adds. "It's a celebration of life cloaked in the morbidity of death. It's 'Cross Wire Technique' by Tunabunny, and there's nothing else quite like it."