Rebecca Black is the 14 year old U.S. citizen who achieved overnight fame and derision for her entry to the category of "worst song ever", an ode to partying and looking forward to the weekend called Friday. She recently released her new single, My Moment. As a song, it's mediocre; there have been far-better and yet-worse pop singles through the ages. As an examination of Western civilization's obsession with fame and personal glory, it's disturbingly blunt. You can watch it here (opens in same window, unfortunately):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2OxWD85Ngz4
Let's break it down. Rebecca sings to an unknown antagonist:
Were you the one who said that I would be nothing?
Well, I'm about to prove you wrong
I'm not the only one who believes in something
My one wish is about to come true
Whoever she is singing to apparently said that she would be nothing, and with this song she will prove them wrong. If we take this invisible antagonist to represent those of us who disparaged Friday, it is a sad indictment on us if we ever equated the worth of that first single with the totality of her worth as a human being. Conversely, it is a sad insight into her philosophy (and that of her managers) if they take criticism of Friday to equate to a complete devaluing of her as a person. In fairness to her, I don't doubt that many of the comments made about Friday on Youtube were personal, hurtful and even shameful. But fame is a double-edged sword, and when it is your "one wish", as the lyrics state, you must take the better with the bitter.
The lyrics continue:
I'm not stopping for you
No matter what you do
I'll just keep on dreaming
My head up in the clouds when nobody is around to see...
We'll come back to this. Onwards:
This is my moment, my moment
It's my time, flying high, lime, mine
Feels like my moment, my moment
I've waited for so long
But now everybody knows this is my moment, my moment
The images in the video clip tell the story: Rebecca in the studio, Rebecca stepping out of a limo to greet a throng of adoring fans (all camera phones held high), Rebecca at the photoshoot, Rebecca on the red carpet, Rebecca driving through Beverley Hills and reading articles about herself. She rushes into the headlights of fame and celebrity with the same enthusiasm that many 14 year old boys rushed into the trenches of the First World War. The passion of youth can be dangerous.
There's something perverse about a 14 year old girl singing "I've waited for so long, but now everybody knows this is my moment". How old was she when she first set her sights on this glory? Eleven? Twelve? Two or three years is not a long time to wait. Five or six years, neither. Fourteen years, perhaps, could be considered a long time, but that would imply that Rebecca has been groomed solely for pop-chart success since birth, which is ridiculous. I sincerely hope it's ridiculous.
Rebecca now switches her attention from the unseen antagonist to the unseen cheer squad (this is presuming that the kids who appear in the film clips are not actual fans but have been paid to do it, or at least are doing it because they want to be on Youtube):
You knew it all along, I was afraid of you
I thought I couldn't be myself
You tried to be my friend
But I wouldn't let you
Remember what you said
Don't miss out on your chance
Your life is in your hands
So take it just as far as you can
But trusting in youself, forget everyone else
Believe...
It's a common sentiment, and Miss Black is certainly not alone in expressing self-determinism. That doesn't make it right. Strip away the candy-cane tune and the happy smiling people on the screen and you're left with a cold, blind methodology for ruin. Your life is in your hands! Trust in yourself! Forget everyone else! The lyrics unwittingly reveal that this approach is lacking. If your life is in your hands, but you can only take it "just as far as you can", the question is, "how far is that?" There must be a point beyond which your life is not in your hands, a point at which other forces impact on you. Later in the song (I won't bother posting it here), Rebecca disparages all her "haters" and bids them adieu. She had better ask if this is wise: the most watched non-parody version of Friday on Youtube has about 7000 "likes" against 34,000 dislikes. The moment that all these "haters" decide to ignore her, the fame she craves will be reduced to a barely audible round of applause.
Note also that the call to trust in one's self is coupled with a call to forget everyone else. Again, the lyrics reveal the flaw. She is told, and she tells us, that we must trust in ourselves to the exclusion of others. The only way any person can be their own god is if there are vast seas of others who are not. Rebecca Black can only be raised high if the masses, the "everyone else" of the lyrics, are lowered, forgotten. This brings me back to the earlier lyric:
My head up in the clouds when nobody is around to see...
If Rebecca Black truly seeks and truly receives the gift she asks for, she will find herself truly alone. Self-worship works on a law of diminishing returns. The higher that Miss Black rises in the stratosphere, the lonelier she will be and the thinner the air. All alone with no person or god to love but thine own self: it's the definition of hell.
And hell is something we all seek to avoid, either through the belief that it does not exist, or through committing enough acts of goodness to somehow tip the balance in our favour, or - as in my case, the Christian view - belief in a good God who does not want me to fall into the self-destructive spiral of self- idolatry that leads there, and who has gone to great lengths to stop me going there.
