Two words: Jack Black.
Yup, his star-making performance in the wonderful film adaptation of Nick Hornby's High Fidelity.
In case you haven't seen it -- and you definitely should, as it's a touching and very funny look at the sort of pop obsessives who write blogs like this one -- the joke of the scene is that in the course of the story Black's character threatens to front the most obnoxious avant-garde-indie-rock-unlistenable-noise-band of all time -- the aptly named Sonic Death Monkey -- at some horrible gig his friends would be obligated to attend. Except it turns out that all along he's been channelling Marvin Gaye (and brilliantly at that -- yes, that's Black doing the vocals).
Really, it's a fabulous piece of work, not to mention a meditation on Fran Lebowitz's famous dictum that you should never make decisions about one's life based on the lyrics to popular songs. For obvious reasons, I relate to it like crazy. In fact, pretty much the only difference between me and the character played in the movie by Jon Cusack is that I never got to sleep with Catherine Zeta-Jones.
PS: I completely forgot I reviewed the flick for TVGuide. You can read it here.