Black Eyed Peas - The E.N.D album review

1 comment | Published by Rach Read |

I’m a big fan of the Black Eyed Peas – well, ever since big-lunged bit-barmy Fergie joined their ranks circa breakthrough album Elephunk (and let’s be honest, that was when most other people realised they existed too). Will.i.am, Fergie and the other two jump across genres with the randomness of a tipsy person attempting hopscotch on a pogo-stick; dance, r n’ b, hip-hop, pop, rap and much more are considered fair game, with the BEP somehow making it both look really easy and sound really great. However, The E.N.D sees them go all Daft Punk on us, sticking to the beepy bleepy electro of lead single Boom Boom Pow throughout.

Will.i.am wanted The E.N.D to break away from the concept of an album, since ‘What is an album when you put 12 songs on iTunes and people can pick at it like scabs? That’s not an album. There is no album anymore.’ Strange then that The E.N.D is such an obviously cohesive piece of work, with the songs flowing into each other in a continuous mix and the previous scattergun approach to genres, which meant not even Mystic Meg could predict what the next track would fling at you, largely forgotten. As a result, The E.N.D is repetitive, sometimes flat and even, and I never thought I’d say this for the BEP, a little bit boring.

The E.N.D has more beeping than a Tourette’s sufferer broadcast pre-watershed and more autotune than Hilary Duff, Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton’s albums combined (that’s a lot btw). When this works (Boom Boom Pow, Rock That Body, Party All The Time), dancehall mayhem ensues; when it doesn’t (too many forgettable tracks to mention), you just wonder if all your electrical appliances have gone off at once. There is one surefire smash that has summer written all over it – I Gotta Feeling (simple, sunny and screams of ‘Mazel tov!’) – and enough trademark BEP fun moments to keep you interested (Fergie pretending to be drunk and forgetting her lines on Out Of My Head, aping My Humps on Alive). But it’s the more mellow moments that impress, with the Fergie howl in fine fettle on the gorgeous melodies of Meet Me Halfway and Alive; you just wish songs like those came along more often.

Fair play to the BEP for doing something different but I prefer the random riots of their previous two offerings. The E.N.D is an easy album to admire, but a hard one to adore.

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