The end of T.G.I.F.

Thanks to Rebecca Black’s new iTunes Top 100 single, no one likes Friday anymore.

Vanessa Ramstack

Have you ever heard a song so horrible it makes you unsure whether to laugh, cry or vomit, leading you to attempt all three simultaneously? If you have never had this experience, please take a moment to listen to Rebecca BlackâÄôs YouTube hit, “Friday.”

I hate to use the word “hit” in reference to this song, but the video now has more than 39 million views and is available through iTunes. It also snuck its way into iTunesâÄôs Top 100, which is disheartening for those of us who prefer to acknowledge the success of actual music.

Listeners can thank ARK Music Factory for this gem of a song. Based in Los Angeles, ARKâÄôs main objective is to “discover future No. 1 artists and produce the next outstanding star.” OK, fair enough. Many other labels could say the same.

The real issue I have with ARK is the way they simplify talent to nothing more than a cute face, a semi-tolerable voice and a fistful of money to expend. According to their “About ARK” page, ARK “recognize[s] that raw talent alone is sufficient to get noticed. However, to further advance as a professional within the music industry, it is absolutely essential for an artist to have hit singles and a well-executed image âÄî all within that marketable package!”

What they really meant by “hit single” is a song with cliché, or in the case of “Friday,” purely sophomoric, lyrics and a voice so heavily autotuned it puts T-Pain to shame. Couple that with an obligatory rap verse and a cheesy music video also starring a cartoon version of the singer and voilà âÄî an aspiring artist has her own slice of stardom.

A part of me wonders if everyone is being too hard on poor Black. After all, she is just a girl looking to make her mark in the musical world. With that in mind I re-evaluated the lyrics to “Friday:” I still feel insulted. I already know the days of the week, and I know what order they go in, too. But for some reason, the song feels it necessary to educate me.

The beginning verses also take time to point out the painfully obvious. If it is 7 a.m., it is probably the morning. If you have cereal, you probably need a bowl. If you are going down to the bus stop, you are probably going to ride the bus.

Wait, just kidding: Your 14-year-old friends are going to give you a ride. And the dilemma of choosing a seat is racking, so make sure to sit illegally in the back seat, where there is obviously no room.

After running through the days of the week, Black assures us that “we, we, we so excited” âÄî we also apparently do not like verbs.

The song peaks with the most pointless rap verse ever. I am by no means a rapper, but all this verse does is explain what driving is and that it is Friday, which I am pretty sure was already established.

I asked University of Minnesota Choral instructor Matt Culloton to weigh in on the song. “[This] operation makes even the worst singers âÄògood.âÄô The honest-to-god art form of singing becomes bastardized by technology âĦ Now, a dash of [autotune] mixed with two-thirds cups of parental greed and a dollop of a childâÄôs dream creates this latest musical atrocity. Gag me.” The experts have weighed in.

It seems that most success in the music industry today is not dependent on pure talent or inspiration but more on wealth and satisfaction with mediocrity. Does this seem backward to anyone else?

Instead of writing about the meaningful moments in life, listeners are now serenaded with catchy lines like, “Fun, fun, fun, fun.” So much for the profound.

In spite of its drawbacks, BlackâÄôs song is a useful reminder that tomorrow is Friday. The next day is Saturday. And Sunday comes afterwards.