She drops the prerequisite scathing takedown like “haters” (translation: anyone whose opinion of your worth differs from your oft delusional own), then with chipper innocence effuses how she’s “’bout to blow up” (insert your own joke right…there) accompanied by twisty hand gestures for emphasis. And paper. Girl’s getting her paper, so,… Wait, when did she morph into Lil Kim?
Something just ain’t right in Kansas when Rebecca Black is throwing down on rap.
We watch her in the simplicity of action doing what any normal wanna-be pop stars of questionable talent and ability do: take dance classes with the B-level Disney crew (get your money back, hon), attend fake premiers, ride around in luxury vehicles with her “people”, sit behind a studio console, look guileless with fluttering cutesy glances to the left and right and the biggest Colgate smile, dispense bubbles into the atmosphere…
We watch fake musicians in the fake background faking that they’re playing the extremely fake music that Bec is “singing” over. That chick “on” guitar might as well have been playing a zucchini, as adept as she appeared to be.
From the 3rd grade rhyming scheme to the Hollywood scenery (denoting success, of course), to the painfully mechanized vocalizations, to the nervous excitement of her being released like a dove onto the red carpet (we’re assuming that’s “mom” letting go of her little girl in the back of the limo), to the sunny saccharine of the song that makes Britney Spears look like Carole King, what we have is yet another act of exploitation (seemingly self-inflicted) in the very 2011-way of attempted capitalization upon much ado about nothing. And that’s the point, folks; there’s nothing there.
Where the awkward and awesomely awful “Friday” was unintentionally bad, without a doubt, “My Moment” is Rebecca Black’s full-hearted attempt to become someone of note, to make an imprint upon the pop scene. As results go, there have been far better and also far, far worse, and mind you, we still have a 5-track EP from Ms. Black that’s due out in August to look forward to (which opens up a whole other issue of truly deserving artists who can’t get an audience to save their lives), but the nature of this beast may be quick to consume itself as the patience and tolerance of the public’s interest may wane sooner than even those sucky haters predict. Her cuteness and vocal passablility can only get her so far and this is about as far as she can go.
There’s just nothing there.