Why If I Was A Fish Became the Internet’s Favorite Antidote to Social Media Toxicity

Why If I Was A Fish Became the Internet’s Favorite Antidote to Social Media Toxicity

You’re scrolling. It’s 11:30 PM. Your brain feels like it’s been through a paper shredder because you just spent forty minutes reading a heated argument about a brand of oat milk. Then, out of nowhere, a colorful, slightly chaotic video pops up. A girl with a guitar and a guy with a shaker are singing about having a large head and tiny fins. It’s weird. It’s colorful. It’s If I Was A Fish.

Suddenly, the internet feels okay again.

That’s basically how the world met Corook and Olivia Barton in April 2023. They weren't trying to write a global anthem. They were just having a bad day. Corook (born Corinne Savage) was feeling the weight of the "doomscroll" and the relentless pressure to be perfect for an audience that doesn't actually exist. So, they sat down and wrote a song about being a fish instead. It’s a simple premise, but it tapped into a collective nerve that was raw and exposed.

The Viral Anatomy of If I Was A Fish

The song didn't just "go viral" in the way a funny cat video does. It became a cultural reset for TikTok’s music scene. Within hours of the first clip being posted, the audio was being used by everyone from tired parents to high-profile celebrities. It wasn't just about the catchy melody, though the melody is undeniably an earworm. It was about the radical act of being "cringe."

We live in a digital ecosystem where everything is curated. Every photo is filtered; every "hot take" is calculated to minimize backlash. Then comes this song that says, "Hey, I have a big midsection and a very small heart, and that’s fine." It’s a middle finger to the aesthetic-driven economy of Instagram and TikTok.

Corook and Olivia Barton’s chemistry is the secret sauce here. They are real-life partners, and that vulnerability shines through. When they sing together, it doesn't feel like a performance for a record label. It feels like two people in a bedroom trying to make each other laugh so they don't cry about the state of the world. Honestly, that’s why it worked. You can't manufacture that kind of sincerity in a marketing meeting.

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Why We Needed a Song About Being Scaly and Small

If you look at the lyrics of If I Was A Fish, they are deceptively simple. "If I was a fish and you were a fish, would you marry me anyway?" It sounds like a nursery rhyme. But listen closer. It’s actually a song about unconditional acceptance in an era of conditional likes.

The internet is built on the "attention economy." We are constantly told that our value is tied to our productivity, our looks, or our ability to stay relevant. The fish song rejects all of that. It suggests that even if we were literally just wet, scaly creatures with zero social standing, we would still be worthy of love. That’s a heavy concept wrapped in a bright, indie-pop bow.

  • Self-image: The lyrics directly address body insecurity ("large bits," "small bits").
  • The "Hater" Culture: It acknowledges that people will always have something mean to say, but suggests we can just swim away.
  • Simplicity: In a world of complex political discourse, "I'm a fish" is a relief.

Most people don't realize that the song was released officially as a single just days after the snippet went viral. That’s a lightning-fast turnaround. Usually, a label takes weeks to clear rights and set up a marketing plan. But Corook and Barton knew the iron was hot. They hit the studio, kept the lo-fi, whimsical energy of the original TikTok, and put it out. It was the right move. The "If I Was A Fish" official release proved that the audience wasn't just interested in a 15-second clip; they wanted the whole vibe.

Breaking Down the Production

Musically, it’s not reinventing the wheel. It uses a basic folk-pop structure. The instrumentation is sparse. You’ve got an acoustic guitar, some light percussion, and layered harmonies that feel almost like a lullaby. This was intentional. If the production had been too "glossy" or over-engineered, the message would have been lost. It needed to sound like a home movie.

One of the most interesting things about the track's success is how it bypassed traditional radio play initially. It was a bottom-up success story. Fans drove the numbers. Fans made the art. Fans wrote their own verses. It became a collaborative experience, which is the highest form of success a creator can hope for in 2026.

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The "Cringe" Factor and Intellectual Honesty

Let’s be real for a second. Some people hated this song. Like, really hated it. They called it "theatrical kid music" or "millennial cringe." And honestly? That’s okay. The song anticipates that. When you put yourself out there with that much whimsy, you're going to get pushback from people who have forgotten how to be playful.

The genius of If I Was A Fish is that it doesn't try to win those people over. It’s not for the cynical. It’s for the person who feels a bit too much and doesn't know where to put it. By embracing "cringe," Corook and Barton actually became more "cool" than any try-hard influencer could ever be. There is nothing more punk rock than being unironically happy in a world that profits from your misery.

What This Means for the Future of Indie Music

We are seeing a shift. The era of the "unreachable pop star" is fading. People want artists who look like them, talk like them, and get sad about the same stupid things they do. This song is a blueprint for the next generation of independent artists.

It proves that you don't need a massive budget. You don't need a PR team of thirty people. You need a guitar, a genuine emotion, and the bravery to look a little bit silly on camera. The "If I Was A Fish" phenomenon is a reminder that the human connection is still the most powerful algorithm on the planet.

The song eventually led to a children's book. Think about that. A TikTok snippet turned into a published piece of literature. That doesn't happen unless the core message is universal. The book, illustrated by Mike Lowery, took the song’s themes of self-love and turned them into something tangible for kids. It’s a full-circle moment. The song that helped adults feel like kids again is now helping kids grow up with a little more self-kindness.

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If you're feeling overwhelmed by the digital noise, there's actually a lot to learn from this whole fish saga. It’s not just a song; it’s a strategy for mental survival.

First, acknowledge the "rock in your shoe." If something is bothering you—be it an internet comment or a personal insecurity—say it out loud. Turn it into something else. Corook took a "bad day" and turned it into a career-defining moment. You might not write a hit song, but you can definitely pivot your energy.

Second, find your "other fish." The song is a duet for a reason. Everything is easier when you have someone who "would marry you anyway." Community is the only thing that makes the internet tolerable.

Third, stop over-editing yourself. The world has enough polished, perfect content. What it lacks is genuine, messy humanity. Whether you're posting a photo, writing a blog, or just talking to a friend, try to be 10% more "fish-like." Be weird. Be scaly. Be you.

Practical Steps to Reclaim Your Digital Joy

  1. Audit your feed. If you’re seeing content that makes you feel like a "bad fish," hit the unfollow button. Life is too short for hate-following.
  2. Embrace the whimsical. Watch a cartoon. Wear a weird hat. Sing a song about your pet. It sounds stupid, but it resets your nervous system.
  3. Create without an audience in mind. The best part of "If I Was A Fish" was that it started as a private moment between two people. Do something today that nobody will ever see.
  4. Practice radical acceptance. Next time you see a flaw in the mirror, try the "fish" perspective. It’s just a "bit." It doesn't define your worth.

The legacy of this song isn't going to be the chart positions or the streaming numbers. It’s going to be the thousands of people who, for three minutes, stopped feeling like they had to perform and just felt like they could exist. That is the real power of art. It’s not about the fish; it’s about the permission to be human.

Go out there and find your own pond. The water is fine, and honestly, your fins look great today.


Next Steps for Your Playlist: Check out Corook's broader discography, specifically tracks like "Hell Yeah" or "It's Ok!," which carry similar themes of self-acceptance. If you’re interested in the visual side of this movement, look into Mike Lowery’s illustration work to see how the song’s aesthetic has influenced modern children's literature and social media art styles. Finally, try a "digital detox" for 24 hours to see how much your perspective shifts when you aren't constantly comparing your "fish" life to everyone else's "shark" life.