'Money for Nothing' catalogs history of the music video

To Steven Johnson, author of "Everything Bad Is Good for You," the quick-cut editing technique infamously popularized by the network taught the eye "to tolerate chaos . . . the way the ear learned to appreciate distortion in music a generation before." It's a keen observation that Johnson makes in his book in passing, in a section on the increasing complexity of video games. "Money for Nothing," a new history of music video as an art form, could use a little of that insight.

Saul Austerlitz, a Globe contributor who has also written for Film Comment and holds a master's degree in cinema studies, has done yeoman's work in examining the development of the music video, loosely organizing his book into sections on elaborate fantasy worlds, concert-performance clichés, hip -hop's infusion of bling, and other trends. Had the author personalized his research -- "One Man's Quest to Find the Perfect Music Video," or something -- it could have been as entertaining as a "Sledgehammer."

As it stands, "Money for Nothing" is a catalog of video content that rarely ventures beyond frame-by-frame descriptions of notable entries in the form. It's like reading a transcription of a marathon video festival that's been preempted by a blackout.

While the author clearly has an eye for cinematic allusions, a little reporting might have gone a long way. When he tells us that American Express was an initial investor in MTV, we'd like to hear from someone who was in one of those boardroom meetings. When he tells us that Richard Lester, who directed the Beatles' "A Hard Day's Night," is "the godfather of the music video," we could use a bit of Lester's own recollection. And when he notes the poignant power of Mark Romanek's montage for Johnny Cash's "Hurt" -- "a scrapbook for a dying man," so antithetical to MTV's relentless celebration of youthful bravado -- Romanek's voice is the one that's missing.