To this day, it still shocks me how significant Rebecca Black’s 2011 song “Friday” was in my formative years. In fifth grade, the song was played weekly on my elementary school’s morning show. Kids constantly mocked and complained about the song with no remorse. Online, 13-year-old Black was a virtual public punching bag. Internet forums and YouTube comments regarded her with resentment. Now that I’m older, I find myself feeling disgusted with the level of hatred she faced. The only thing she was guilty of was releasing a harmless, cheesy teen pop song.
Black first came back on my radar a couple years ago, when she returned to the music world with a rebrand. Her 2021 EP, “Rebecca Black Was Here,” gave a fresh face to her name, with completely different vocals from “Friday.” I found it mildly entertaining; her sound veered into a hyperpop direction, and it was comforting to see her re-emerge into the public sphere with the intention of rewriting her narrative. She scored interviews with Vice and TheNeedleDrop, which received generally positive critical reception. Additionally, she collaborated with artists such as hyperpop icon Dorian Electra, electronic duo 3OH!3 and rapper bbno$. It really felt like she was coming into her own.
On Feb. 9, Black released her debut album, “Let Her Burn.” The release of the album felt like her final step of reintegration into the music world, separating herself from the public’s judgemental pit of scrutiny. It takes ideas from “Rebecca Black Was Here” and fully realizes them. The production is mostly synthpop electronics, with dashes of breakcore, cloud rap, industrial and nu-metal sounds. The first track, “Erase You,” has production that would feel right at home on Radiohead’s “15 Step,” for example, with its crunchy percussive backing beat.
“Destroy Me,” a personal favorite, features an energetic drum and bass backing track. Black addresses her experience with the widespread public criticism of her work in the song with the lyrics, “Feeling pretty cute until I ran into you/ Chewed me up and spit me out like gum on your shoe/ And if you’re free and you’ve got nothing better to do/ Go ahead, destroy me, destroy me.”
Courtesy of Rebecca Black.
The latter half of the album doesn’t hit as hard, with some slower tracks that don’t exactly bring anything new to the table. “Cry Hard Enough” and “Look At You” both have lethargic openings that last upwards of a minute each. They both pick up steam in their latter halves, but it takes too long to reach those high-energy points. None of the tracks were bad by any means, however. Fortunately, the album ends on “Performer,” a thoughtful ballad in a 6/8 time signature. The final chorus is lined with an additional electric guitar melody, making the lyrics even more anthemic.
Black’s vocals, while not superstar level, were consistent and clean. She reached high notes with ease, but never did any powerful belting. The imagery and soundscapes present on “Let Her Burn” show Black shedding her old skin and embracing a forward thinking, genre blending pop sound.
It may very well be impossible to hide from the complicated legacy of “Friday.” Even in 2023, she’s still receiving hate online (looking at you, Pitchfork). Even so, she has successfully carved out a caring fanbase and a rightful place in the music scene. It’s obvious by now that Rebecca Black isn’t trying to prove herself to anyone. But, if she was, she has succeeded.
Michael Blankfein (24C, he/him) is from Westport, Connecticut, majoring in Anthropology. He is also a violist in the Emory University Symphony Orchestra. He’s a huge music nerd, plays a ton of video games, and loves murder mysteries.
