The Black Eyed Peas –The E.N.D.
I don’t remember fate turning to robust lust, for art’s endeavor, but I finally slipped off my chair, and a great avalanche of money fell with me. Security followed, first and fast for those chips but also, quickly for player’s rescue. After I hit foolish floor, at the moment of most keep, every hand went to the dealer. Not only was this prowess for conquering house missed, but of true domination did dealer take on, after my show of pure falling grog. Subsequent players, at said table, fell sharply to twenty one after my ability to force dealer’s bust had left with such sad humor. The brilliant news being; I apparently coloured up so many times the sweaty casino owner offered bottomless drink to all possible followers and we can now purchase a sailing ship of speedy power. My men will be whole hearted in leaving this truck cranked bucket of hot bolts, as we first found it, anchored in rusting abandonment.
Who could not make way, in waters enveloping, without finding pure pleasure in this craft? Inner detail robbing flash from gleaming wave brings this eye, of intellect and gained catalogue with blood shot, to wonderment. Feminine earthy rhythmic wisps brush, with wave crashing crush of spray, this beautiful light, to reveal bow’s adornment. A fair subject in truth, but this solid core sees only ship of dash and presto. I, we must have this late entry.
Luckily, the captain of our newly spotted sailing ship was one who had fallen to card dealer’s filthy grip, after my drunken win. With the breath of defeat and stealth, he gladly bargains his magnificent wealth. Found in now lost address, this ship is mine. His eyes on our easily relinquished soot float, inspires a future painting I will some day finish on a dark future morning. His situation was of mine, many times past. Trades are made with generous additional pieces of eight his way. Plunder is not forced, everyone lives, and he most graciously hands us an additional CD titled ‘The Black Eyed Peas THE E.N.D.’
The BEP’s promise of future offerings is nothing if not the best bulb for planting. Good seed aggregated from stock of might, usually produces best results. The magic ingredient is genius. Regardless of your circle, this is a word used too easily either way. Will I Am fits my definition. He is not my singer of choice, dancers come better, and original melody seems to be of a premium. The man, on the other hand, has his receptor on the pulse of today’s beat. With superior calculation and clearest of microscopy he raps and rings bells. While leading a hand full of misfits, who have fine talents of their own; melodies are borrowed, pooled and sampled to levels of outstanding quality by this wizard of rhyme. For all future fans, BEP are a shine on retrospective legacy.
This generational staple, “The Black Eyed Peas”, is intrinsic within the hip-hop stream. With female vocals of true professionalism, struck with pointing male rhyme, this band is of high order. Melody, reprise with fixed flash, and stage ownership are of special note. The Bucky Jonson Band, who back up the four main members, Will I Am, Fergie, apl.de.ap, and Taboo, are characters of first rate all there own by every note.
With great dodge and trade, appreciation of some genres can be tantamount to sword accepted but, I fill myself with all types. So many artists, at the height of their bold, are top for easy time but crush when tempest of term reveals ugly waves of obscurity. This will not happen for such a ringleader as Will I Am. Samplings and formations of other people’s music, brought to brilliant interpretation by these unique stage performers, are magically brewed. Alchemy tendering song is the subject in their live performance. The BEP and their entire factory of sound are a band who need my promotion not, but are of worthy note. I revel in the best of each genre, and these artists are public intrigue. The most noble and human aspects of ‘Manifest Destiny’ are associated with Will I Am, more than we realize at present.
With all this said, I must tell you, their latest offering is the biggest musical disappointment of my year. From a band that brought us such songs as ‘Where Is The Love’, ‘It’s A Holiday’. ‘Pump It’ and ‘Gone Going’, comes overly contrived and truly uninspired fill. There are a couple of interesting tracks that may be played again in this sound room but considering that this is an album of four years wait, I fear ‘E.N.D.’ may not really stand for ‘Energy Never Dies’.
Not being a true hip-hop fan of deep collection myself, I still enjoy various artists at the top of their game and I feel this act found that ground when Fergie joined the march. Much criticism was frothed when she joined the group, but that was when the band clearly took full sail and showed best results. I enjoy their music because of borrowed superior melody, reasonably rendered voice and the wonderful lyrical twist put upon such. Interscope Records must have felt, somewhere along the way, that electronic manipulation was becoming more and more important in today’s music. I find much of this fifteen track CD to be redundant and quite forgettable. Gone is the heart tug and soulful feel that usually comes with their music. A direction of futuristic aspect is forced while universal appeal seems to have been lost for now.
I remember when ‘Pink Floyd The Wall’ came out. Not the most fitting example but use that and reverse the feelings and actions, of sleepless nights, taking in every anticipated nuance and detail with justification. Something is missing in this latest offering and hopefully another four years will not pass before proper direction is found once more. I recommend a solo effort by Fergie titled ‘The Dutchess’, if you enjoy this kind of musical hop.
Sales will do well and my thoughts are about one hundred and eighty degrees from many, but if you choose to plug your nose and plunge into the hip-hop genre, I suggest any prior BEP CD, preferably one that includes Fergie.
After cheerfully paying all debts to crew, while happily allowing ample time for local markets of scarlet need and artistic gift, we finally stow. A new member is gladly brought aboard, who loves this boat for not only beauty second but artillery lust landed first. Never have I heard a lieutenant call for ‘Listen” like this self-starter, of easy appointment, who is now my third in command. This refreshed crew is strong and, with luck, mutiny will be held off by much stronger expanding sonic science of tuneful delirium. I feel this wager to be best and good, in such a fortunate universe.