Editor’s note: The Friday 40 is a safe little corner of The Infuerno where the author freely, almost stream-of-consciously rambles on about one particular subject of his or her choosing. Topics range from relevant news items to whatever small issue is bothering him or her at that time—something perhaps of such little meaning that it wouldn’t normally make its way into the headlines, but after a long week, ends up getting its own little slice of real estate here. Author writes while drinking a 40 (which certainly helps create these mountains out of mole hills), and posts are irregularly published on whichever Fridays life decides to not get in the way.
I was listening to Baauer’s new album on my newfound, long-ass commute home from Manhattan to the Jersey Shore this evening. (The album is 🔥, I’ll have you know.) It got me thinkin’: remember the Harlem Shake? Like not just the song, but the viral video sensation? Of course you do. We all do. Go ahead and brush your brain tongue across the 2013 section of your mind. You feel that raised portion? That’s the scarring left behind from the Harlem Shake being branded hard onto it. Well anyway, I miss it. Boy do I miss it so.
And it’s not like I miss quirky viral trends in general that anyone can participate in and post to YouTube. We had the ALS ice bucket thing a couple years ago that 50 Cent won. There have been a bunch of dance craze things that have come and gone. Like the Whip/Nae Nae, the Dab, the Quan…there’s even a new one now called the #RunningManChallenge. (Which is actually pretty funny.) But where’s the heart? Where’s the passion? Where’s the production quality?
I think why I enjoy the Harlem Shake so much is that it required lots of people in masks and some entry-level editing. You had to film it twice! Like once before the drop, and then once again after. That takes dedication! And it was a much more collaborative effort than, say, propping up your iPhone across the room and dancing to some song in front of it. I don’t know. It might just be the curmudgeon in me. “Kids these days! Don’t even put any elbow grease into their viral what-have-yous!” [shakes fist at clouds]
Maybe I’ll grow to love these new things. But for now I just want my Harlem Shake back.