Post by The Curmudgeon on Apr 24, 2011 3:51:08 GMT 2
It can't be THAT bad.... can it?
It's been quite some time since I inspected Amazon's latest bowel movements and reviewed, rated and slated the latest terrible piece of garbage that idiots waste their money on. So with that in mind, I had to make something of a comeback. It had to be something not just merely "bad" for my return to Amazon's Official Room 101. A Simon Cowell created grinning bargain bin bound fool just wouldn't be enough this time. I needed something that wasn't just atrocious, but was SO jaw-droppingly awful it achieved pop culture legendary status through word of mouth, point and laugh blog articles and discussion boards. A song famous - and celebrated - for being abysmal. Surely such a thing doesn't exist?
Unless you'd looked into the deadlights of Pennywise recently, you'll already know what I'm talking about. It is, of course, Friday by Rebecca Black.
A little explanation, first of all. What with you all having access to, y'know, the internet, you'll surely all have heard the song by now; thrust into the limelight due to it being knuckle-chewingly woeful. And though you may think that deer in the headlights expression and overall lack of talent may suggest she was "discovered" on some horrible reality talent show, the truth is far more depressing. Friday was released through Ark Records, a vanity music publishing company that don't sign artists on such crazy, out-dated notions like talent or ability. They focus more on that thing that makes everyone's world go round - cold, hard cash. Basically, if mummy and daddy have the money and fancy parading their darling child around with a mic in their hand - and naturally have the four grand required - then Ark Records will write your kid a song, make a music video for them and let them convince themselves they're a recording artist and a star. There are dozens of the precocious little brats on the website. Turns out that Ark Records may have had a philosophy - throw enough excrement at a wall, and eventually some of it will stick. And that excrement is Friday.
Now often these reviews of mine have a recurring theme; that of your humble narrator wishing death upon us all, that the latest God-awful offering is enough for me to give up on humanity altogether. But this time it's different. Because the near universal scorn directed at "Friday", from chat show hosts to comments on Facebook and discussion forums right the way down to the creatures that crawl from the primordial swamp to comment on Youtube, actually makes me think; "y'know, maybe we're all going to be OK after all. Maybe we will just make it." That's the power of music, folks.
OK, seriously, what is it about "Friday" that already has it dubbed The Worst Song of All Time on a million internet sites? Well, damn, where to start? You could say it's the over-use of that dreaded enemy of good music Auto-Tune but, really, Rebecca sounds no more robotic and fake than more, ahem ahem, "credible" acts like the Black Eyed Peas. But then there's the lyrics. Oh man, those wise, wise words. Her eternal, soul-searching dilemma over which seat to take on the school bus will, I'm sure, be mentioned one day in the same context as "Blowin' in the Wind" for their multi-layered depth and timeless quality, as is the ground-shaking, wheel re-creating revelation that "yesterday was Thursday, today is Friday." Amazing. A. Maz. Ing. And then follow that with "tomorrow is Saturday and Sunday comes afterwards" and your tiny mind has been blown to Pluto and back. It's like Oscar Wilde has been reborn. Or like someone who's just been in a car accident is trying to write their diary.
Then, of course, there's that weird rapper, shoe-horned in because, hey, all pop songs have a rap interlude, right? Even if it is from a creepy 45 year old man (actually the co-founder of Ark Records) who talks about driving next to school buses, no doubt violating his parole in the process. But the most crucial, excruciating part? It's Rebecca herself. Yeah it's unfair to rag on a 13 year old girl, but from her tuneless vocal, pitch perfected until she sounds like a fax machine, to the way she shuffles around at the end (oh, I'm sorry, that's her dancing and Having Fun, I forgot) it's clear that she belongs anywhere but a recording studio. And the people who actually wrote the song should have their hands sawn off at the wrists in case they're ever "inspired" again.
This could, of course, have been a different story. We've seen time and time again desperate, fame-hungry imbeciles with little to no musical ability become huge stars and sell millions of records, snapped up by gullible, witless "tell us what to buy, Simon" drones. And while I'm sure Friday has made a fortune for Ark Records (call me a cynic, but I'll bet Rebecca hasn't seen much of the revenue), it was for all the wrong reasons. This time, the song was mocked for the witless dross that it is, proving that even the hideous general public have SOME standards. Next time we may not be so lucky. Justin Bieber II can only be a Youtube click away.
As for you, Rebecca? You became a worldwide laughing stock and you'll hear jokes about naming the days of the week until the day you die. I hope it was all worth it.
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