Before diving into today’s musical debate, let me confess: I’m no musician. My instrumental prowess peaked in sixth grade with a keyboard duet of John Denver’s Take Me Home Country Road. Musical talent? Not my forte. Perfect pitch? Nope. But I do possess a finely tuned BS detector, and it goes haywire when I hear Katy Perry’s Last Friday Night and Rebecca Black’s Friday. They’re practically the same song, and frankly, both are pretty terrible.
“Hold on,” you might say. “Aren’t these Friday Songs, like, ancient history?” Well, yes, they are. But the debate rages on! People still argue that Perry’s track is miles better than Black’s, and I’m here to say, unequivocally, NO. This musical hill is one I’m willing to die on. This rant is taking up precious brain space I could be using to, say, catalog Cosby sweaters or memorize Wu Tang Clan lyrics. So, Bushwick blog readers, I implore you: explain to me why Katy Perry’s song was a chart-topping smash while Black’s became a critical punching bag when they both peddle the same overproduced, bubblegum pop formula.
Let’s lay down some facts. Katy Perry’s Last Friday Night dropped on her Teenage Dream album on August 24, 2010. It was unleashed as a single on June 6, 2011, the album’s fifth. Rebecca Black’s Friday arrived earlier, on March 14, 2011. A common argument for Perry’s supposed superiority is that Black appears in Perry’s music video (around 1:47), suggesting Perry was playfully mocking Black’s song, perhaps even writing hers as a response. But the timeline refutes this. Perry’s song existed months before Black even stepped into a recording studio. It seems more likely that Perry’s team, upon hearing the viral infamy of Friday, saw an opportunity for damage control, not a witty artistic retort. I imagine the conversation between Perry and then-husband Russell Brand went something like this:
Russell Brand: Katy, have you heard this new bit of rubbish?
Katy Perry: (listens, face contorting in horror) Oh… uh…
Russell Brand: Dreadful, isn’t it?
Katy Perry: (panic rising) Oh crap! Oh crap! Crap! Crap! Crap!
Russell Brand: What’s wrong, love?
Katy Perry: (screaming) FFFFFFFuuuuucccckkkkkkk!!!!!
Russell Brand: Did you catch that Friday lyric? Hilarious.
Katy Perry: Get my manager on speed dial, NOW!
From there, Team Perry convened a top-secret crisis meeting. It took a village of publicists, stylists, a chauffeur, and maybe even some gummy bears from the California Gurls video shoot to concoct a plan: give Rebecca Black a cameo in the Last Friday Night video. Damage averted, or so they hoped.
The truth is, these friday songs are sonic twins. Black’s is the naive anticipation of Friday night, the innocent pre-game. Perry’s is the hungover morning after, the walk of shame in sparkly stilettos. Black’s Friday is the pre-funk to Perry’s regret-filled Sunday.
Both songs are essentially laundry lists of Friday activities, either planned or remembered. Rebecca’s mission is simply to get through the day and reach Friday night. Her lyrical journey includes waking up at 7 AM, descending stairs, grabbing cereal. Does Rebecca suffer from short-term memory loss, forcing her to narrate her morning routine just to make the carpool on time? Katy, on the other hand, gets very specific, ticking off tabletop dancing, excessive shots, credit card debt, cruising, streaking, skinny dipping, and a three-way (check, check, check, and… check). Her lyrics read like she time-traveled back to 1997 and posted her purity test answers in an AOL chat room.
I actually appreciate Black’s lyrical coyness. She keeps her Friday night exploits vague, coyly chirping “Partying! Partying! Yeah!” when pressed for details. Perry, however, is the ultimate over-sharer, the friend who posts excruciatingly detailed Facebook updates on Sunday mornings. Hickey or bruise, Katy? Seriously, TMI. And waking up with a stranger? We all know what that means.
So, the million-dollar question: why did Perry’s song become a massive hit while Black’s became a punchline? If you expect a definitive answer, look elsewhere. I’m baffled. While the production on Black’s Friday is undeniably rough (hello, autotune!), remember it emerged from a self-proclaimed “song factory” charging aspiring (and perhaps naive) young singers up to $4000 for their big break. Perry, in contrast, enlisted two co-writers and heavyweight producers Dr. Luke and Max Martin (also a co-writer), the masterminds behind mega-hits for Kelly Clarkson, Britney Spears, and the Backstreet Boys. Last Friday Night boasts superior production, yet still suffers from those whiny autotune strains. Shouldn’t these professionals know better? Then again, maybe I’m expecting too much from the guy who co-wrote the Backstreet Boys’ perplexing I Want It That Way, a song ending with some of the most baffling lines in pop history:
I never wanna hear you say (never wanna hear you say)
I want it that way
‘Cause I want it that way
Wait, you don’t want me to say “I want it that way?” Why? Because you want it that way? What “way” are we even talking about? Perhaps I hold Perry’s team to an unfairly higher standard than Black’s. But I digress.
Now, let’s talk music videos. I understand if you recoil at the thought of re-watching Black’s video. It’s… rough. Black’s dance moves are nonexistent, and she exudes the charisma of Kris Humphries at a Kardashian family barbecue while awkwardly waving at friends at a bus stop. The video opens and closes with bargain-basement A-ha Take on Me animation knock-offs embedded in what appears to be a PowerPoint presentation. Watching it, you can feel your will to live, let alone watch another music video, slowly draining away.
Perry’s video, however, is a party. Beyond Black’s cameo, it’s packed with Debbie Gibson, Corey Feldman, Kenny G, Glee cast members, and a parade of attractive people in a kitschy homage to 16 Candles and other 80s movie tropes. It even features the obligatory nerdy-girl-removes-glasses-and-becomes-hot makeover scene. Sure, it had a bigger budget, but they used it effectively. It’s genuinely entertaining.
Even if we call the lyrics a draw and give Perry the edge in production and video, I still maintain Black wins this bizarre battle of the friday songs. Skeptical? How can I possibly think Black’s song is “better”? Because of its instant, organic virality. Friday didn’t need a Los Angeles marketing machine to explode. People heard it and immediately shared it. It connected with listeners on a gut level that Perry’s song, for all its radio play, didn’t. Even if that connection was often through mockery, it was still an emotional reaction. Listening to or watching Friday became a shared experience, sparking jokes and memes among friends. Let’s face it: we love to hate things. And sometimes, hating something is almost as enjoyable as liking it. There’s still an element of engagement, of like, present, even in dislike. Confusing, I know, almost Backstreet Boys-level confusing. There’s a perverse pleasure in tearing something apart. Haters gonna hate, because hating can be fun.
We only “enjoyed” Perry’s song because radio stations force-fed it to us relentlessly. It was inescapable. We liked Last Friday Night because we were already familiar with Perry from her previous hits. We knew what to expect. She Kissed a Girl, and we lapped it up, cherry Chapstick and all. Friday, however, was Black’s debut (and likely swan song) in the pop landscape. We didn’t know how to react. Faced with the unknown, we often default to skepticism, a primal survival instinct. But if you can look past the novelty, and embrace Friday for its simple, almost childlike, celebration of everyone’s favorite day, you might see how it surpasses Perry’s in its immediate, albeit unintentional, connection with its audience.
Now, let’s be clear: both friday songs are objectively… not great. Most sane people aren’t spending sleepless nights debating which is incrementally less awful. I suspect Perry secretly knew Friday had a strange kind of genius, hence her damage control and, perhaps, genuine appreciation, culminating in inviting Black to perform on stage at one of her concerts. Perhaps these two friday song divas could unite pop music fans, maybe even the world, if they collaborated more, like in The JaneDoze’s brilliant mash-up T.G.I.Friday. Now that’s a friday song whose greatness is undeniable.
There, I feel better. Maybe obsessing over these pop culture nuggets for years is a bit absurd. But I can’t ignore such monumental, albeit questionable, pop moments. Now that this friday song rant is off my chest, I can finally dedicate more energy to my burgeoning obsession with the solo careers of the Wu Tang Clan’s ten members. Ghostface Killah, I believe, has a new album out.
