Part II: Rebecca Black/Irony
What condemns “Friday”-more than Rebecca’s bizarre diphthongs, pinched tone or the barely literate lyric (which, as explained in my previous essay, “Friday” is at least literate)-is how unironic the video is.
That is not to say the video is literal; Rebecca enters a fantasy realm before the first verse ends. Even before arriving at the bus stop, there is no attempt at verité. This section is just as staged and choreographed as the rest of the video. The fantasy ride in the car is post-produced beyond recognition: everything is glittery and shimmering; colors pop and bleed everywhere. It’s an acid trip as imagined by young persons (as imagined by their parents). In the end, Rebecca performs the song for her adoring fans/friends: the most fantastic moment of all.
The video is super-figurative, but it is unironic. (As I write this, OpenOffice refuses to acknowledge the word “unironic”.) Perhaps I should suggest another term for the absence of literary irony. This suggestion is: content-adherence.
Let us examine, briefly the quality of cover versions of the song. Mostly, the style has been that of the singer/songwriter (i.e. Bob Dylan): single-voice, single-instrument, modest/non-production. They reject the vocal affectations of modern pop (tits and teeth). One video, however manages to save the song from itself: The Epic Mullet Guy version.
There are three images in this video: mullet guy alone on a couch, mullet guy alone at the piano and mullet guy dancing alone. Mullet guy clearly too old to care about cereal, getting up a 7:00 AM, or getting to the bus stop. Mullet guy doesn’t need friends to party; he is redefining the concept of partying and of the mullet (there is plenty of party in the front of that mullet). If the video were meant to be taken seriously, it would be a fucking downer. But this video is dependent on the existence of Rebecca Black’s video and its own irony.