A word of warning, don’t watch the video for I Don’t Feel So Alive following your first viewing of The Shining. For those of you who have seen the film you’ll know that it’s terrifying, cabin fever and insanity festers and prove more creepy than any sort of ghost or alien. Watching Jack Torrence go from mild asshole to axe wielding maniac is a prolific experience to say the least. So imagine this; after experiencing such a film you then open up your laptop and press play on Gabriella Cohen‘s latest video for I Don’t Feel So Alive and wouldn’t you know it, you have the strangest sense of deja vu.
Stuck inside with nothing to do? Gabriella Cohen knows how you feel with her video for I Don’t Feel So Alive, a subtle take on issues of identity.
The clip finds our leading lady, the affably talented Cohen herself, staring down the camera as she is cooped up inside and trying to find various ways to entertain herself. By no means is she as creepy as Jack Nicholson (is there anyone who is?). We doubt Cohen and co-director Kate Dillon intended when they made the clip for I Don’t Feel So Alive, but it embodies that vibe of a person trying to break out and embrace who they truly are. For Torrence it was being a dull boy, but Cohen hasn’t quite figured it out yet.
The song meanders along, propped up by the plucked guitar and tapping of the tambourine. This is a young woman trying to figure out who she really is, and how she wants to convey that to others while worrying if their perception may be wrong. Some pretty introspective stuff, but this is Gabriella Cohen we’re talking about, and the lady knows how to craft a good song.
It’s playful without being too goofy and stark without becoming boring. As the song picks up in the final third things get more manic, the stoic Cohen beginning to come out of her shell. Where she was once stationary she know begins to dance and flail as she repeatedly ask “Why don’t we get together?“. The camera work becomes more shaky and the images get a little trippy too. The clam, static world we were brought into begins to descend into hyperactivity, those questions of self reaching their boiling point. All that’s missing is an elevator of blood.
