1. It’s a mnemonic device. If you think I WON’T be using this song to teach my kids how to remember the days of the week, then you’re smoking that Friday. In fact, I may (or may not) be already playing this song over and over again when my kids are in the car as I wait for one of them to start quietly mouthing the repetitive sequence as they look out the window hoping we can get to “ousside” soon.
2. This song proves that how you sing something is more important than what you sing, because up until two weeks ago, I did not realize that both Cherrelle’s and Alexander O’Neal’s verses are the EXACT same, just sung differently. And up until that point, I’d have SWORN before God and three white men that the verses were different. Nope. Same words. This may or may not also prove that I don’t listen to lyrics sometimes.
3. O’Neal’s singing of the lines “Why after all this tiiiiiiiiime, my heart still feels pain ... ” is perfect. I will argue you with you about this. You don’t have to fight your mother; I will fight you and your mother about this. I LITERALLY am in awe EVERY SINGLE TIME I hear him sing that part because it is the only right way to do it. The onliest. Ever.
4. You cannot listen to it without dancing. G’head. Try. It’s impossible unless you’re the Feds, and if you’re the Feds, then you can’t sit here because you don’t even go here. This song is up there in the pantheon of songs that require your shoulders to move as soon as it comes on, even if you don’t want them to. It’s the stuff rotator cuff injuries are made of.
5. It’s SUCH the perfect karaoke song. Like, it has all of THE most perfect vocal runs for drunkenly standing in front of a roomful of strangers (or friends) and putting on a performance for the ages. This song is so good for karaoke that it should be used in one of two ways: 1) Either everybody gets a turn, basically “Saturday Love Karaoke Night”; or 2) It gets saved for the person in the group who always gives it their all. You WATCH this song being performed by the Karaoke God.
6. It knocks in the car. I have literally gone riding down the block knocking pictures off the wall to this song. But the fun part is this: Because it’s that “good” music that the old folks appreciate, you’re inclined to get people singing along. So even if they’re pissed that you’re blasting music, they’re still glad it’s music that they can’t help dancing along to (see No. 4).
7. Along with dancing, I think you also HAVE to sing along. Hence the über-karaoke ability of the song (see No. 5). Again, try to listen without singing along. You just can’t do it. Any song that involuntarily forces you to sing along is one of the best songs of all time. Peeeeeriod.
8. The album version (on Cherrelle’s High Priority album) includes the most ridiculous minute-and-30-second intro that pisses you off while you wait for the song to start, except it’s so bad that it’s almost good. I start out mad that I have to wait, but by the time O’Neal gets to “Oh no, it’s her,” I’m so tickled that I’m over it and primed for the beat-drop.
9. This sing-along-ass bridge that steals your soul and forces you to sway and snap like your employment depends on it ... let’s sing it together:
Never on Sunday, Monday’s too soon
Tuesday and Wednesday just won’t do
Thursday and Friday we can begin
But our Saturday love will never end.
10. It was written and produced by Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, who are one of the greatest musical-production duos ever. And we’re all better because they created this song.