American singer-songwriter, Rebecca Black, released her debut studio album “Let Her Burn” on Feb. 10.
Many students scrolling TikTok on the Oswego campus may be too young to have experienced the phenomenon that was Rebecca Black. In 2011, Black released her debut single “Friday.” For about a month it lingered under the musical radar as a newcomer’s attempt at fame, until comedian Mike Nelson tweeted that its music video was “the worst music video ever made” and the comedian Tosh.0 reacted to the song with the video “Songwriting Isn’t For Everyone.” Black quickly became the new joke of the Internet for what is admittedly a very annoying song. She also became the target of a mass cyberbullying campaign from the works of music purists with nothing else better to do.
Now it is 2023 and Black has returned, but this is a new era for her. She has collaborated with hyperpop jokesters Dorian Electra (“My Agenda”) and Slayyyter (“Troubled Paradise”). She has reclaimed her image as a pop songwriter with a sense of humor, but also a sense of dignity.
Lead single “Crumbs” reintroduces Black as a disciple of Charli XCX (“CRASH”). Black sings in front of a distorted, rusty synth and a squeaky hi-hat. Her lyrics are masochistic pleas for her lover to “make a mess” and let her have the titular crumbs. Black’s hyperpop appreciation interrupts the song with a glitchy, metallic breakdown that sounds inspired by SOPHIE (“Oil of Every Pearl’s Un-Insides”). The song then blooms into an explosive reprise of the chorus.
The full album delivers on “Crumbs” sonic promise by featuring a mix of contemporary alt-pop and sprinklings of experimental textures. “Let Her Burn” is not straightforward hyperpop, but it uses its shock value by reclining adjacent to it. This is very much a commercial pop album: when Black is not being Charli XCX, she is being Carly Rae Jepsen (“The Loneliest Time”). The album is an odd equation of being certainly derivative but intentionally drawing from boundary-pushers.
The track “Destroy Me” sounds like if Pinkpantheress (“Boy’s a liar”) combined her breakbeat-ish garage with 100 gecs’ (“Snake Eyes”) metal samples. Black proudly taunts the listener, inviting them to “destroy” her identity. “Destroy Me” is an empowering inclusion given Black’s history in the music industry; her quick, unaffected vocals along with the heavy metal samples sound like she is crumbling her past with a spiteful fist.
Closer “Performer” is the album’s thesis. Black sings about having to pretend. The first verse hits hard given where Black is now: “Is my independence/coming back to bite me?/Do you really like me/or are we pretending?” The idea that Black’s success in her noisy, post-ironic hyperpop ventures was actually listeners taking part in the final stage of a decade-old meme is admittedly depressing. Taking this into consideration, the result of “basic” pop as a blueprint is in fact its own worst enemy. Rebecca Black acknowledges her past and she can reappropriate her past, but she has the popstar capability to move on with her career like “Friday” never happened.
In this respect, no matter what it sounds like, Rebecca Black has won. She built her second reputation off the ashes of one of the most hated songs of all time, yet one listen to this album and the listener can forget about “Friday” entirely. Fortunately, “Let Her Burn” sounds perfectly fine as some standard but remarkably effortful alt-pop.
Image from Rebecca Black via Twitter
