Rebecca Black’s “Friday”: A Travesty of Epic Proportions
Just in case you’re in the 10% of the world’s population that has yet to see the travesty that is “Friday” by Rebecca Black, allow me to educate you.
If you thought that song “Justin Bieber’s Girlfriend” was bad, just wait until you see this—er, the thing you already watched at the top of the page. “Friday” is a song that gives old folks in their 20s like me insight into what the kids are up to these days, and apparently, 13-year-olds are up to no damn good, especially on Fridays, which, according to Rebecca, come after Thursdays (even though we all know that Thursday is actually in between Monday and Brednesday).
The music video begins with terrifying images of a hideous cartoon ghost of Rebecca Black howling “Ohhh yeahyeahyeah…” and haunting a calendar. Whose calendar? We don’t know. That’s why it’s so scary, because it could be your calendar! (Cue Wilhelm Scream.) Props to the animation department for the spookiness. It’s not always easy to creep people out with cartoons.
As far as the actual lyrics go, the song basically starts out with Rebecca singing about eating cereal in a bowl. A bowl. And she’s not talking about granola ‘n shit. She’s talkin’ ’bout sugary gansta crap like Frosted Flakes, ’cause dis be Friday, bitches. Just because it’s Friday doesn’t mean you can shovel in whatever unhealthy cereal you want, Rebecca. A few more Fridays of that and you’ll be fat.*
After stuffing her face (off screen) and teleporting to the bus stop, she sees her friends pull up in a convertible, which, as it turns out, is the bus. Schools are way fancier now than when I was 13. We just had regular short buses for the stupid kids, not convertibles. I question Rebecca’s school’s allocation of funds, but that’s neither here nor there.
Now we reach the pivotal point of the song: which seat should she take? One of her friends is in the driver’s seat of the convertibus, which either means he already has his driver’s license somehow, he’s stolen the car and is driving it illegally, or he’s a tragically uncool 16-year-old with no friends his own age. Rebecca’s other gansta peeps are crammed into the remaining seats in the front and the back, so where the f*ck is she supposed to sit?!
Just when you think she’s about to do what any normal person would do and behead someone to take their seat, she instead plays it cool and appears in the middle seat of the convertibus, obviously having teleported again. She and her suburban white posse drive to school, and they don’t seem to mind her ear-wrenching, nasally voice. In fact, one girl likes her singing so much that she forces an incredibly awkward wave motion with her hand.
They chant “Friday”, “partyin'”, and “fun” over and over again, trying to signal some kind of Norse god of the weekend. I have to wonder what kind of partyin’ 13-year-olds do on Fridays. Probably sick, wiccan rituals that involve bathing in blood and having unprotected sex way too young. Oh, and painting their nails and giggling about boys. Also alcohol, because there ain’t no party like a drunk 13-year-old’s slumber party.
Suddenly, Rebecca is wearing what is arguably the frumpiest dress any teenager has ever worn, and she and her friends are on their way to some kind of prom in front of a painfully fake-looking backdrop. She says something about how she wants time to fly, even though she’s allegedly having fun. She then says, “you know what it is” and points at you. Here’s the thing, Rebecca. I don’t know what “it” is. What is “it”? Fun? Friday? These horrible lyrics?
She then sings, “I got this, you got this, now you know we’re kickin’ in the front seat…” What is “this” that we have? Is it the “it” you referred to a line or two ago? How do I know you’re kickin’ in the front seat? Not only are you sitting in the back seat, but your legs aren’t moving at all. Is that your idea of kicking? No wonder you got kicked off your soccer team. Seems like you fail at everything, Rebecca.
Next, Rebecca gives us a lesson on the days of the week. “Yesterday was Thursday. Today it is Friday. We we we so excited.” Judging by the monotonous nature of her voice, I’m not convinced that she she she so excited, but it seems pretty clear to me that she she she is sofa king we todd ed. The next line is, “Tomorrow is Saturday, and Sunday comes afterwards.” Hold the phone. Tomorrow is Saturday? How stupid are you? Saturday is that day that only happens on leap years, and this year is not a leap year.
Somewhere around the 2:38 mark is where the music video takes a disturbing turn (as if it wasn’t already disturbing enough). A pedophilliac drug dealer is cruising down the road to sell Rebecca some drugs. How do I know he’s a pedophile? Rebecca is 13. How do I know he’s a dealer? He’s black. You see, I recently met a black man who told me that about half of all black people are drug dealers. Given that I met him on a train when he seemed to be drunk, I know this information is legit. So this speeding, rapping black guy wearing gaudy rhinestone earrings has a 50/50 chance of being a drug dealer, and seeing as how you round up 5’s in decimal numbers, this guy gets rounded up to having a 100% chance of selling crack.
If you’ve gotten this far into the song, I applaud you for your stamina. The rest of the video consists of discomforting shots of Rebecca poorly lip syncing on stage and greenscreened into some kind of bad karaoke set up involving a smoke machine.
So, yeah. Since the word “Friday” is ruined forever, I vote we change it to “DieArkMusicFactoryDay.” Or we could just build some kind of memorial for the loss of all thirteen-year-olds’ dignity.
Oh, and in case you haven’t heard this, listen to it:
*Not really, little kids have pretty good metabolisms.