There was a time when the Black Eyed Peas had this little thing called credibility. Or something that kind of resembled it. Back before Y2K–in that shadowy gulf between glocks and gangstas and bling and trappin’–wil.i.am, Taboo and apl.de.ap had a conscience, a message and a big ol’ bone to pick with society.
Kim Hill, the band’s tasteful female back-up singer, took a back seat to the boys. She wasn’t credited as a member of the band, wasn’t on the album covers, and hardly existed. After the lukewarm success of 2000’s Bridging the Gap, the guys did what guys do: They ditched Hill in favor of someone with more prominent, um, humps. And, boy, did the T&A work
wonders.
Enter Fergie–a horrible singer who, as a child, performed on Kids Incorporated (a poor-man’s Mickey Mouse Club from Canada) and, according to an interview with Blender magazine, was pretty hooked on that totally classy drug called crystal meth.
Regardless of her past habits, or present press blunders, I understand the Peas’ business decision: Sex sells (out). Course, hindsight is 20-20, but if wil, Taboo and apl had asked for my help, their decision–and, now, their band–would have been a bit better.
May I present The Perfect Black Eyed Pea?
Black Eyed Peas play Koka Booth Amphitheatre at Regency Park on Tuesday, April 18. Make your own
Fergie judgements.
