Few modern hip-hop acts make those connections more blatant than the Black Eyed Peas.
And never have they made cannier use of it than on their fifth and latest CD, “The E.N.D.”
It’s a nonstop incentive to dance, merging every song into the other so
as to leave nary a second’s pause for reflection or rest.
Such energy, and intoxication, has made the Peas one of the most popular and radio-friendly acts
of the last decade, as well as one of the most reviled. Ironically, it’s hip-hop fans who do most of the reviling.
“Sellouts,” they hiss. “Pop hacks,” they sneer.
The question is — are those things really so bad?
“The E.N.D.” argues otherwise. It’s every bit as flip, silly and cravenly mainstream as it could be.
The beats challenge no norms. The melodies aim straight for the Top 40,
and the lyrics make “Boogie Oogie Oogie” seem downright Shakespearean.
Yet “The E.N.D.” does exactly what it sets out to do — deliver a stupid/good time.
(Remember, this is the group that named one of their top hits “Let’s Get Retarded.”)
The Peas assert that goofy effervescence right in the first song,
“Boom Boom Pow,” an onomatopoeic outburst too dopey, and rhythmically buoyant, to resist.
The song’s arch minimalism — think: Soulja Boy Tell ’Em, only lower — makes it the CD’s
sole semi-daring piece. The rest has a decided retro feel, drawing on ’80s electro-dance music,
if a brand goosed by T-Pain’s current tic of vocal tweaks and quavers.
Essentially, head Pea will.i.am does the same thing to the lead vocals of Fergie that editors do
to subjects in need of heavy Photoshoping. (Maybe we should call it “vocalshopping.”)
But with the Peas, fakery is part of the fun. In the cut “Missing You,” Fergie sounds
as reworked as Cher in “Believe.”
Meanwhile, will’s tunes keep the flow going. They find peaks in “Ring-a-Ling,”
an ode to booty calls that sounds like Daft Punk channeling Kraftwerk, and “Electric City,”
which samples the ’60s hit “I Want Candy” via its ’80s remake from Bow Wow Wow.
As on all the Peas’ most pleadingly commercial albums (i.e., the last three), absurdities abound.
The latest examples include Fergie trying out a ridiculous dance hall patois, and an attempt
at social commentary called “Now Generation” that means to sound like punk but ends up sounding
more like Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”
(
DailyNews)
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