Or you could always go riff on a crowd-pleaser: 1920s German expressionist film.
"I can't remember what music video this was for, but we painted this set as a kind of forced-perspective, [The Cabinet of] Dr. Caligari thing," says Blood. "We kind of went nuts with this set, the pieces would slide in and out while we were dollying forward. Months later, the producer wanted to make some space, so she threw the set pieces out in the back alley. My friend later saw them in one of the homeless tent villages. People were using these pieces of forced-perspective architecture as part of their house."
Apart from general surrealism and absurdity, karaoke videos did have some common tropes. Brian Raftery lays out a set of character types in his book, Don’t Stop Believin’: How Karaoke Conquered the World and Changed My Life, that includes the wandering lover ("two distraught ex-paramours who spend their time taking walks alone and frowning at nature"), the horny bugle boy ("'80s-style male fantasies, set in a world where polo shirts are always tucked into khakis and blondes are always poured into Ferraris"), and the random fly girl ("women wearing neon-colored baseball caps and doing the Hammer Dance"). "That was almost its own genre," says Raftery. "That whole late-'80s, early-'90s sort of Spike Lee, very vibrant-colored videos with people just dancing haphazardly… I think they did those because they could film a bunch of dancers and maybe not know exactly which song it was going to, so it could be reused."