It was a total fluke. Well, maybe not a fluke, but the launch of MTV in 1981 was a disorganized, cocaine-fueled, high-stakes gamble that should have failed a dozen times over. If you weren't there, or even if you were, the I Want My MTV book by Rob Tannenbaum and Craig Marks is basically the only way to understand how a bunch of radio geeks and record industry outcasts accidentally invented the visual language of the modern world.
The book isn't a dry history. Not at all. It’s an oral history, which means it’s just hundreds of people—VJs, rock stars, directors, and suit-wearing executives—telling their versions of the truth. Often, they contradict each other. That’s the beauty of it.
Honestly, when I first picked up I Want My MTV: The Uncensored Story of the Music Video Revolution, I expected a nostalgic trip down memory lane. I thought I’d read about Michael Jackson’s glove and Duran Duran’s hair. What I actually found was a brutal, hilarious, and sometimes dark account of how corporate greed met genuine artistic rebellion. It’s a messy story. It’s a long story. But man, it’s a necessary one if you want to understand why our attention spans are so short today.
The Chaos of the Early Days
The beginning was rough. Remember the first video? "Video Killed the Radio Star" by The Buggles. It’s iconic now. But at the time, the channel had a library of maybe 250 videos, and a huge chunk of those were just cheesy clips of Rod Stewart or skinny British guys in ties.
The I Want My MTV book details how the founders, like John Lack and Bob Pittman, had to beg record companies for content. The labels didn't get it. They thought music videos were a waste of money. Why spend $50,000 on a film clip when you could just buy a radio ad? But the MTV team was relentless. They were selling a lifestyle, not just songs. They wanted to be the "coolest guy at the party" 24 hours a day.
It wasn’t just about the music. It was about the branding. Fred Seibert and Alan Goodman, the guys behind the legendary "M" logo, explain in the book how they wanted a logo that could change. It could be made of brick, or neon, or Swiss cheese. This was a radical idea in the early 80s. Most brands wanted consistency. MTV wanted chaos.
The Race Problem
We have to talk about the elephant in the room. For the first couple of years, MTV was incredibly white. Like, shockingly white. Tannenbaum and Marks don't shy away from this. They interview the people who made the decisions, and the excuses are... well, they’re something.
The executives argued that they were a "rock" station, and rock was white. They claimed their research showed that their suburban audience didn't want to see R&B. It took David Bowie calling them out in a live interview—which is documented vividly in the book—and the sheer, undeniable force of Thriller to break the color barrier.
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Rick James was furious. He called them out publicly. The book gives space to that anger. It shows that the "revolution" wasn't inclusive from the start; it was forced to change because Michael Jackson was too big to ignore. Once "Billie Jean" hit the airwaves, everything changed. The ratings spiked, the money poured in, and the "rock" excuse evaporated.
The VJs: Accidental Icons
Mark Goodman, Nina Blackwood, Alan Hunter, J.J. Jackson, and Martha Quinn. They were the faces of the revolution. But they weren't stars—at least not at first. They were paid peanuts. They worked 12-hour shifts in a tiny, cramped studio in New York.
In the I Want My MTV book, the VJs describe the surreal experience of becoming famous overnight. One day they're struggling actors or radio DJs, the next they're being chased down the street. Martha Quinn, everyone’s favorite "girl next door," talks about the pressure of maintaining that image while the world around her was going crazy.
There was a lot of partying. Let's be real. The book is filled with stories of legendary benders and backstage antics. But there was also a lot of insecurity. The VJs knew they were disposable. They were just the "wrapper" for the videos.
Director as Superstar
Before MTV, nobody knew who directed music videos. After the I Want My MTV book era kicked off, names like Russell Mulcahy, Steve Barron, and David Fincher became industry titans.
These guys were the wild west pioneers. They were inventing techniques on the fly. Want to make a video look "gritty"? Throw some bleach in the film processing. Want to make it look "expensive"? Fly to Sri Lanka and rent some elephants.
- Russell Mulcahy basically defined the early MTV look with those high-contrast, fast-cut clips for Duran Duran and Elton John.
- David Fincher (long before Fight Club) was making sleek, cinematic masterpieces for Madonna and George Michael.
- Steve Barron gave us the "Take On Me" sketch-animation style that people still talk about forty years later.
The book explains that the music video was the perfect training ground for film directors. You had a budget, a deadline, and no rules. If it looked cool, it stayed in.
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The Money and the Ego
By the mid-80s, the "cool" startup had become a corporate juggernaut. The record labels realized that a single video could break a band globally in a week. Suddenly, budgets went from $20,000 to $500,000.
The I Want My MTV book tracks this shift from "let's try something weird" to "we need a hit." The hair metal era is particularly hilarious in the book. You have bands like Poison and Mötley Crüe spending thousands on hairspray and pyrotechnics.
Billy Squier's career is a famous casualty mentioned in the text. His video for "Rock Me Tonite," where he dances around a pink bedroom, is often cited as the moment his career died. The book dives into how the visual became more important than the audio. If you looked "wrong" on MTV, you were finished. It didn't matter how good the song was.
The Rise of Madonna
If Michael Jackson broke the color barrier, Madonna owned the medium. She understood MTV better than anyone. She used the channel to reinvent herself every six months.
The interviews in the book highlight how calculated and brilliant she was. She wasn't just a singer; she was a visual artist who used the 24-hour cycle to build a myth. From the "Like a Virgin" wedding dress to the "Like a Prayer" controversy, she kept the cameras pointed at her. The executives loved her because she was "sticky." People didn't turn the channel when Madonna was on.
Why the Oral History Format Works
Most books about music are written by one person with one perspective. They have an agenda. They want to prove a point.
The I Want My MTV book works because it’s a collage. You get the executive saying, "We did it for the art," followed immediately by a producer saying, "We did it because we were terrified of losing our jobs." It feels honest. It feels like you’re sitting at a bar listening to old roadies and retired VJs swap stories.
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It’s about 600 pages long, which sounds daunting. But because it’s all quotes, you can fly through it. It’s snappy. It’s rhythmic. It’s like a well-edited music video.
The Decline and the Legacy
Eventually, the "M" in MTV started to stand for something else. Reality TV. The book touches on the transition to shows like The Real World.
Purists hated it. "Play the videos!" became a rallying cry. But as the book points out, the ratings for videos were actually dropping by the early 90s. People would watch for ten minutes and channel surf. They needed a reason to stay for thirty minutes. They needed a story.
The legacy of MTV isn't just the music. It's the way we consume everything now. The fast cuts, the blurring of commercial and art, the cult of personality—that all started on August 1, 1981.
If you want to understand modern social media, you have to understand MTV. TikTok is basically just MTV condensed into 15-second bursts. The I Want My MTV book provides the blueprint for that evolution.
Actionable Takeaways for Readers
If you're planning on diving into this book or just want to apply its lessons to your own understanding of media, here’s what you should do:
- Watch the videos while you read. When a chapter talks about Duran Duran’s "Rio" or Peter Gabriel’s "Sledgehammer," look them up on YouTube. Seeing the visuals while reading about the nightmare of the production adds a whole new layer.
- Look for the "Radio Ga Ga" effect. Notice how many artists who were massive in the 70s disappeared in the 80s because they didn't "look" right for the screen. It's a lesson in branding that applies to business today.
- Appreciate the "Happy Accidents." Many of the most iconic moments in music video history were mistakes. The book is a testament to the power of saying "yes" to a weird idea when you're under a deadline.
- Analyze the "MTV Style." Next time you watch a movie or a commercial, look at the editing. See if you can spot the influence of those early 80s directors who were just trying to make something look "cool" for five minutes.
The I Want My MTV book is more than just a book for music fans. It's a case study in disruption. It's about a small group of people who took a "stupid" idea and used it to change the way the entire world looks at screens. It's messy, it's loud, and it's absolutely essential.
Go find a copy. It'll change the way you hear—and see—the 80s forever. No more boring history books. This is the real deal.