Rebecca Black's song "Friday is a work of unparalleled genius.
This song and its accompanying video represent one of the greatest works musical art I've ever seen. ranking right alongside anything Radiohead. Neutral Milk Hotel etc has ever done.
Why do I say this? Because underneath its bubbly. faux-happy surface is a seething cauldron of existential dread and despair. You've all missed the forest for the trees, and while you've been busy mocking it you've missed its brilliance. So let me take you through the video step by step and maybe at least a couple of you will begin to see.
Remember that these are just my own observations. after only a few viewings: this video is so multi-layered that unravelling its symbolism and meaning would take years of careful examination
We open with a production card and some building synths. As the music continues. we see a sort of calendar with flipping pages. Before we get to the lyrics. there's a couple things in this sequence worth pointing out. because they set the tone for the rest of the video and establish its overarching motifs.
Firstly. Black appears here as a hideous moving drawing on the pages. moaning "yeah. yeah" in robotic. auto-tuned cadence. This startling image of the singer — and her voice -- both lie snugly in the very nadir of the uncanny valley. Ostensibly we are looking at a human. but it isn't close enough to what we recognize as human to inspire anything other than revulsion.
I think the director was trying to create a vision of the ''hyperreal" here. Like a sports drink with a flavour such as "blue mountain ice berry" that doesn't exist in nature. Black is a simulacra of something that never existed in the first place. Like so many American teens, she is attempting to live up to an ideal that's impossible to attain — outwardly succeeding in many respects, but never achieving self-actualization in any meaningful way. always feeling like an imposter, mired in a cycle of materialism and futile competition that serves no purpose. She doesn't feel anything in these opening frames she is presented as just that: an unreal monster, a horrible, ugly outside creation.
The artificiality of the music itself plays into this theme as well — I don't think there's a single real instrument in the entire song
Secondly on the pages of the calendar we see some words that we are supposed to assume Black wrote there. On the page for Thursday, she has written "I am Thursday's Child. :(" This is a very clever reference to a nursery rhyme that ascribes personality traits to people born on certain days of the week. The line for Thursday reads, 'Thursdays child has far to go."
There are multiple things going on here. As a young girl Black has far to go before reaching adulthood and the (largely mythical) freedoms she ascribes to it. She also has 'far to go' before she can accept herself for who she is.
She has 'far to go` before she can be the person everyone around her expects her to be -- very. very far -- and she will never get there. These are the main conflicts that are present throughout the song.
Finally, the lyrics start. The monstrous drawing of Black gives way to the flesh-and-blood Black, just waking up with her alarm clock. Her eyes snap open and she starts out of bed instantly, almost mechanically.
>7 AM waking up in the morning
>Gotta be fresh gotta go downstairs 'Gotta have my bowl
>Gotta have cereal
Gotta. She has no choice. She HAS to do these things As Black sings these lines, she gives a disdainful look to her alarm, obviously wishing she could sleep some more. but dutifully she throws her covers off (does this represent her urge to throw off the comforting but ultimately cloying shackles of childhood? Perhaps.) and we cut to her standing downstairs, dressed and ready to go, where she finishes the verse.
In the downstairs section she stands stone-still, her facial features unmoving as she tells us that she must have a bowl of cereal. This is her routine- to break it would be a horrible transgression. And what exactly happens if she breaks her routine? Well. nothing -- but she doesn't know that and she's too terrified to find out. She wants freedom but she isn't strong enough to give it to herself
>Seeing everything
>The time is going. ticking on and on And everybody's rushing
Behind Black, her family goes through their own daily routine in fast-forward. No one has time anymore, it seems to her, and by extension to the viewer. Everyone's day is firmly regimented planned out months in advance and there isn't any room to allow oneself a peaceful moment. For success we have traded in our very identities. Black is disgusted with her family and more importantly with herself
>Gotta get down to the bus stop
>Gotta catch my bus
More gottas. Again. Black has no choice in what she does with her time We cut to her at the bus stop where suddenly she notices something off-screen and gives a painfully faked smile.
Her smile isn't real. As the camera reveals her 'friends' pulling up in a late-model car neither are theirs She cannot stand these people. Like her they're imposters, trying to live up to some abstract version of what a perfect teenager should be. and she hates them for it. But on the other hand they are nothing less than a mirror into her own empty soul — all the more reason to despise them
>Kicking in the front seat
>Sitting in the back seat
>Gotta make my mind up
>Which seat can I take'
A verse absolutely pregnant with meaning. It's gotten a lot of derision. and that's a shame because it's one of the great little moments in this song.
Black surmises the car. Her friends are motioning for her to join them. Why would she do that instead of taking the bus? It's obvious that her friends aren't going to school today. And as she looks at them she realizes that she has to make up her mind: will she continue the daily routine that has become her own personal prison, or will she break free. skip school and taste independence?
Which seat can she take? Will she sit in the back, a passive bystander to her own life? Or will she sit in the front — wrest control of her own destiny and decide for herself what she wants to do?
>It's Friday. Friday
>Gotta get down on Friday
We cut to Black in the car with her friends. But she's in the back. After all that turmoil, she's still a slave to others, doing not what she wants, but what is suggested to her by her peers. She may have rebelled against the tyranny of schooling but she's still imprisoned and acting without will.
"Gotta get down on Friday?" Not 'wanna get down on Friday" or "gonna get down on Friday" or any of a number of lines that may have worked Its another "gotta". She is as much under the control of society as ever. In fact, her minor rebellion may itself be part of the act she's been putting on her whole life. What teenager doesn't skip school?
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend
>Partying. partying. yeah! >Partying. partying. yeah! >Fun, fun.
>Looking forward to the weekend
Horrible. No one in the car is happy. They bob their heads and smile through gritted teeth as they lie about how much fun they're having, but they all look so desperate, so pained. They look OLD. like world-weary soldiers. Their refrains of "yeah!" are delivered with unenthusiastic fist pumps, the veil on their false joy wearing alarmingly thin.
Black chants "fun, fun, fun" not like someone who is enjoying themselves but like a Nazi in a concentration camp. She is ordering herself to have fun, as if simply saying the words will make it so. But it's not so, and she knows it. This isn't fun. This is hell.
>7.45. we're driving on the highway
>Crusing so fast,
>I want time to fly
12 hours have passed in an instant. We cut to Black in a completely different car. wearing a completely different outfit with a completely different group of people What happened in the interim? That's left to the viewer's imagination but there is some imagery here that strongly implies Black lost her virginity at some point in the time gap.
Firstly, all the people in her company are noticeably older than the original group of friends. She is with adults now, not children. This suggests that she too is an adult, she has stepped into womanhood.
Secondly in the morning she was wearing a bright purple shirt, symbolic of youth and innocence. Now she wears all black, symbolic of impurity -- and mourning. She has lost her innocence- and she regrets it. The car, too. has gone from white to black — pure to impure.
Whatever the case. it's clear Black has had quite the day. But still she sits in the back seat — through it all. She is still not in control.
Why does she want time to fly? Isn't she having 'fun, fun, fun'? Of course not. This has been the worst day of her short life and she wants it to be over as soon as possible. This is probably the only time she directly betrays her true emotions in the entire song. Her self-loathing over giving up her virginity — and over myriad other things — bubbles to the surface in that fleeting instant before she tamps it all back down again and continues the pathetic charade of enjoying herself.
>Fun fun
>Think about fun
Again. ordering herself to have fun, still she pretends to be having fun.
>You know what it is
>I got this, you got this
>My friend is by my right
>I got this, you got this
>Now you know it
She smiles, but her eyes tell a different story. They're pleading with you to understand her, her plight. She wants you to understand why she's done this. and to forgive her. But she really wants something else. She wants to forgive herself of what has happened today.
Maybe she never will.
>Kicking in the front seat
>Sitting in the back seat 'Gotta make my mind up 'Which seat can I take?
We come full circle. She knows that to become a truly free agent she will have to disavow her false friends and live for herself. Will she be able to take this step? Will she summon the courage to strike out on her own? Immediately she answers for herself: she hugs her two 'friends' closer. She isn't ready to be her own person yet. Not even the loss of her innocence could imbue her with the courage to move forward. She will be a slave to others for the foreseeable future.
>It's Friday, Friday
>Gotta get down on Friday
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend, weekend
Black arrives at a party and waves to a boy about her age. He glances salaciously at her backside. The party is outdoors and it's pitch black except for the headlights from the cars there. Without her friends, without her peers Black would be in dark, completely lost. The meaning is obvious.
Again, she's "gotta" get down. The line has now acquired a disturbing sexual connotation given what has transpired, but its basic meaning is essentially the same.
> Friday, Friday
>Getting down an Friday
Watch closely here, this is around 1:50. Her smile completely drops for an instant as she says the second line. She hates herself
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend
The boy from before walks up behind Black and makes an inappropriate sexually-charged grab at her. She swirls around in shock. but then fakes a smile at him. She cannot bring herself to admit how disgusting she finds him.
>Partying. partying yeah'
>Partying. partying. Yeah
>Fun, fun. fun
>Looking forward to the weekend
Black walks backwards here. It's easy to read into that. She's not improving herself, but regressing. For all her bluster and pretending, she's worse off tonight than she was this morning. More of her false friends make unconvincing fist pumps. Once again, no one is happy.
>Yesterday was Thursday. Thursday 'Today it is Friday, Friday
We see Black again as the drawing-monster from the beginning. She recites the progression of the days of the week.
Yesterday was Thursday, today is Friday. This transformation and these lyrics validate the suggestion that her rebellions today have been nothing more than yet another piece in the larger act she's been putting on. of being the perfect teenager. The days of the week are set in stone. they always come in the same order. And Black's rebelliousness was equally predictable. It wasn't spontaneous at all.
>We, we, we so excited
>We so excited
>We gonna have a ball today
Black talks in broken English, but it's just an affectation, like everything she's done today. Talking like a stereotypical 'urban" (read: black) person is supposed to be °edgy " for this young white suburban girl, but it's not edgy if everyone in her peer group is doing it. just fired and cliched She's no bohemian or free-thinker or even common punk. she's a mindless drone doing what all the others do.
>Tomorrow is Saturday
>And Sunday comes afterwards
The predictability of her actions are again hammered home as Black is shown directly turning from the moving drawing into her real life counterpart. The drawing-monster and Black are the same entity: a horrendous, unreal abomination, revolting yet pitiable. She doesn't want this weekend to end.
But she does. She trembles with this lie and has to say it with an open-mouthed gape, as if forcing it out of herself.
How long can she go on like this before she cracks?
>RB Rebecca Black
>So chillin' in the front side
A grown man begins to rap. cutting into Rebecca's lyrics (symbolizing her powerlessness?) He calls her by name, then looks down at his crotch as he says the second line. More sexual connotations abound. Has this adult man victimized the young Black?
>In the backseat ›I'm driving cruising
These lines have caused confusion. but it makes sense if you consider 'So chillin' in the front side, in the backseat' to refer to Black.
HE is the one in control — HE is in the front seat. driving 'Cruising" here takes on its sexual meaning as well as its more literal one -- he is cruising for underaged girls to abuse
>Fast lanes. switching lanes >With a car on my side
>Passing by is a school bus >In front of me
>Makes me tick tack. tick lock >wanna scream
Chilling. This man is a pedophile and the children aboard the school bus arouse him. But let's look closer. The fact that they're on a school bus is very meaningful indeed. Because if Black had followed her usual routine and gone to school, had failed to rebel — she may still have not escaped the fate that befell her tonight. Eventually she would have been sullied by the horrors of the adult world. For her, there is no escape, and there can never be
>'Check my time. it's Friday
>It's a weekend
>We gonna have fun 'Come on. come on
The man looks in the rearview mirror but the position of the camera makes it appear as if he's looking directly at the viewer. And he says we gonna have fun: not "I'm gonna have fun.' This is an accusation, a recrimination. We are all complicit in the crimes this man commits. By forcing the image of perfection upon young girls. by sexualizing them, by turning a blind eye to their cries for help. WE are responsible for the -fun' this man has. We are no better than him.
>It's Friday. Friday
>Gotta get down on Friday
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend weekend >Friday. Friday
>Getting down an Friday
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend
We cut back to Black performing in front of a large crowd. This is really what she's been doing her entire life. of course: performing. None of them seem that interested even as she sways and smiles and shouts about how great everything is What's more. we continually see cuts to Black standing alone in a bizarre darkened room full of strange glowing smoke. where she moans in protest — at one point (around 2:55) yelling out "n00000" as the Black performing in front of an audience announces that everyone is looking forward to the weekend.
This is Black's inner dialogue and likely it's been going on for the entirety of the day — this is just our glimpse at it. Outwardly, she's happy and ebullient but in her mind she's shouting out in horrible pain trapped in a fevered hellscape of her own creation
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend >Partying. partying. yeah!
>Partying. partying. yeah!
>Fun. fun. km
>Looking forward to the weekend
>It's Friday. Friday
>Gotta get down an Friday
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend. weekend >Friday, Friday
>Getting down on Friday
>Everybody's looking forward to the weekend
As the song draws to a close, we cut back and forth like this — the projection Black gives of herself and the torment within. Finally her inner self isn't even attempting to speak intelligibly. instead just yelling as loud as she can.
eyes wrenched closed. fists balled up. But in the real world she forges on singing and dancing for the crowd_ and the pedophile from before looks on approvingly his prey's spirit fully broken.
And when she stops singing, she looks down at everyone before her embarrassed, disgusted and despaired.
Now that her performance is done. the crowd will disperse and forget about her and for everything she's endured she will have gained nothing. She has literally become the -poor player that struts and frets her hour upon the stage.'
She has realized that her life is a futile mockery of real happiness a hollow. meaningless simulation.
As Black's day draws to a close, she has stared into the abyss -- and the abyss has stared back
_endquote
Pretty deep. Actual post tmr.
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