One the first of August in 1987, the latest and greatest in television, MTV Europe, came to life. And the very first thing they played was Dire Straits’ “Money for Nothing.”
Why’d they do that? Well, for one thing, Money for Nothing had topped the US singles chart for three weeks, so it was most certainly a big thing. And, heck, it’s a good song. But there was another gimmick - the song opens, proceeds, and ends with the words “I want my MTV”. It’s probably the song’s most iconic line, outside of the “Money for Nothing” chorus.
Yes, Money for Nothing has a lot to say about the MTV, and the odd thing is that not all of it is good.
The songwriter has related to us the story of his piece’s birth. It all went down when the artist encountered a store clerk in a music shop who was sitting in front of several rows of shelves filled with brand-new televisions, all tuned to MTV. As the songwriter walked by, this store clerk was suddenly seized with purpose and decided to give MTV (and the whole music industry too) a lambasting so brutal that the artist had no choice but to whip out a notebook and write down what the store employee had to say, and then - in rather ironic fashion - turn it into a song.
In Money for Nothing, we listen to a store employee talk about how his life is filled with “installing refrigerators” and “colour TVs” whereas those lazy musician types “maybe [they] get a blister on [their] thumb… maybe [they] get a blister on [their[ pinkie.”
“That ain't workin'!” declares the store clerk. “[They’re getting] Money for Nothing and Chicks for Free.”
“That little faggot got his own jet airplane,” he complains, explaining his horror at the riches of strangely-dressed effeminate rock stars.
The lyrics are hardly serious. Unlike other pieces of satire, which are often brutal, aggressive, and driven to convince you of something, Money for Nothing is written with a casual, banterous tone - the way a store clerk would talk to his friends. The song doesn’t really insult the deplorable state of the music industry, it merely laughs, “Hey, those rock stars, they’ve got a pretty good scam going. I wish I could pull something like them.”
You might even argue that the store clerk isn’t angry. His tone is so jocular, and so respectful of the riches that rock stars make, that you could see him as less complaining about the unfairness of the music industry, and really more impressed at what a sweet scam those rock stars are playing. He wishes he could be like them.
When the tone of a piece is so friendly and unaggressive, you’ve got to think about whether the artist really meant something other than “the music industry is just making money for nothing”.
Well, it’s no unknown fact that the music industry is hardly money for nothing. In most cases, musicians make close to nothing despite working constantly and with great talent. Of course, the very tip-top of the rock star hierarchy make a ludicrous income, but even they spent years playing gigs at minimum wage and working tirelessly to perfect their art. It might be good money at that point, but it’s not money for nothing.
Some might argue that the topic being satirised is really the store clerk - or, more accurately, the commonly-held belief that famous rock stars, football stars, actors, and other celebrities, are all making money for nothing. In truth, the only way to become a famous rock star is to be driven to ridiculous lengths by passion for music and then to get a good heaping of luck on top of it. The songwriter is simply laughing at the naivety of the store clerk, because the songwriter has himself experienced the amount of work needed to become famous, and it certainly isn’t money for nothing.
Then again, perhaps the piece exists just so we can laugh at how the store clerk speaks - cause his words are, on their own, pretty funny.
