There are a lot of definitions for “novelty song”, some of which contradict each other. The most straightforward, however, is simply a song that is just a little bit weird and upbeat (and, okay, has a bit of a sinister edge). Oh, and it becomes a “guilty pleasure” if you enjoy it.

Once a song has been branded a novelty, it is automatically considered second rate – something that can never be taken seriously. So, being weird and happy (and okay, sure, from time to time including eardrum-piercing animal noises or singing about a hobgoblin that lives in the sea) automatically makes something bad? Sorry for feeling an ounce of joy, I guess.

But, if you’re going to be a novelty song, you may as well be the king, and that’s what Agadoo is.
The song itself is actually a cover, cobbled together from different bands, from an original French version called Agadou. What elevates it above all the others, however, is the film clip.

Initially, it all seems pretty straightforward – two men in Hawaiian shirts and leather pants awkwardly dance as though their mum is teaching them the moves just off-screen. Then you notice that the band is made up of large, anthropomorphic fruit, including a particularly buff lemon on guitar. To one side, an apple-headed barman is serving fruit drinks.

Putting aside the fruit version of cannibalism, however, the biggest triumph of the Agadoo film clip is a subplot involving a woman dressed as a pineapple going on a journey of self-discovery in this fruit-filled hellscape. Subtitles broadcast her thoughts as she first tries to join in the fun, but quickly becomes indignant as she takes in the lyrics. “Is this dance fruitist?” she thinks. Finally, one of the men shoves her – push pineapple, indeed – and she retreats to the bar, only for the band to follow and ask what a nice pineapple like her is doing in a place like this.

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The clip has 15 million views on YouTube and I fully accept that 14.9 million were me. I also think this clip is art – a surrealist masterpiece that deserves attention beyond the label of “novelty”.

Successful art should capture your focus, and it should make you ask questions. I look at René Magritte’s The Lovers and I go: this is interesting, why are their faces shrouded, it’s all a bit spooky. I look at the film clip for Agadoo and I go: apple-headed bartender who are you, who are your parents, does it bother you to serve the nectar of your brethren?

Agadoo, the word, might just be a nonsensical sound to fill in the gaps between weird lyrics. But Agadoo, the concept, is a masterpiece. What a novel concept.