This past weekend in Miami, The Black Eyed Peas played their final concert before going on an indefinite hiatus so the band’s members can focus on their supposed solo projects. The event saw guest appearances from the likes of Cee lo Green, T-Pain, and even Queen Latifah.
I'm sure the event must have been emoitional. I’m emotional even thinking about it - in fact I’m welling up just now...but they’re tears of joy. PURE, ELATED, JOY.
Sure, I cannot resist singing along to “My Humps”. Or “Let’s Get it Started”. Or “I Gotta Feeling”. But that doesn’t mean I like singing along to it. Oh no. It just happens. Their songs get inside your brain and command you to sing along. It's disturbing.
There has always been something about the Peas that has irked me. Maybe it’s will.he.is’ ego that I find off-putting. Or the random band members that no one knows the name of. Or maybe it’s because their music reminds me of highly processed Kraft Singles, spritzed in Fergie-Ferg’s “Outspoken”.
Thanks to the Peas reign of terror, I've had to deal with people requesting “I Gotta Feeling” be played on repeat at their wedding receptions, ex-boyfriend’s blasting “Shut Up” at me when they were angry (that I asked them to turn off the crappy music), and Superdrug playing the karaoke version of “Meet Me Halfway” while I shop for tampons.
Enough is enough.
The Black Eyed Peas will no doubt come back to haunt us all again with their auto-tune, use of the word "phunk" and electronic butchering of classic songs once Fergie produces spawn, Taboo (whoever that is) gets some recognition and will.i.am grows tired of trying to make Cheryl Cole big in the States, or whatever it is he does.
So long, and farewell, Peas. We’ll see you again when you need the money.
Image via Walmart Stores Flickr (from when they performed at the Wal-Mart Shareholders Meeting. 'Nuff said.)