The Black Eyed Peas inescapable hit single “My Humps” is perhaps the single most misguided, unappealing, and by extension, worst pop song of the last God knows how many years. Either that or it’s a misunderstood and subversive feminist masterpiece challenging the way modern society views and objectifies women. I’m still not sure, but I’d tell everyone I know to bet the house on “Choice A.” Allow me to explain.

If by some strange fortune you’ve been able to avoid the song, I envy you. Lord knows I try my best. No cable or MTV. No radio in my car (Stolen. Big up St. Louis!). I don’t go to 18 and over nights at lame dance clubs. But yet, there is no escape. Coworkers hum it incessantly, although most admit to also hating the song. And with every visit to the incredibly useful iTunes music store, there it is staring back at me from the #1 spot on the “Todays Top Songs” list. Alas, there is no escape. The basic gist of the song is that Fergie, the group’s recently added rent-a-slut singer, waxes moronic about how she’s able to bend men to her will through the power of her “humps”, which apparently is the new 4th grade slang for T&A. So, great. Some newsflash. Men spend money on you cause you got big titties and a matchin’ ass. Stay tuned for more at 11. We’re not exactly reinventing the wheel here, but granted, nobody says you can’t make a great record based on flaunting one’s (dubious) sexual assets and prowess. See any Missy Elliot album for examples.

Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not faulting the song for its subject matter, but rather its execution. I’m all for music about tits and ass. Boobies and a bangin’ backyard are two of my five favorite things in the whole world, right up there with bacon, Buffalo wings, and yourethemannowdog.com. If you want to objectify women and reduce them down to the sum of a few interesting anatomical parts, you’ve come to the right place. Lord knows if a few buddies and I put our heads together, we could fill a dictionary with slang and code words referring to a chick’s equipment. The song goes terribly, terribly wrong, however, by its choice of language. By referring to her goods as “humps” and *deep breath* lovely lady lumps, Fergie inadvertently evokes images breast cancer and 8th grade health class film strips about self-examinations in what is ostensibly a mindless party song. But hey, way to take foreplay and make it as erotic as driving your mom to get a mammogram. I’m just counting the days until the follow-up song in which she refers to her thunder thighs as “sexy saddle bags.” Maybe she can find away to bring gynecology into the mix. I can see the brainstorming session now. “Hey, anyone know a word that rhymes with ’stirrups’?” In addition to being incredibly inane, the song is guilty of being the least sexy song with the intention of being sexy since Don Johnson crooned “Heartbeat”.

So there’s my first reaction; however, in thinking about the song, I had to come to terms with the idea that maybe the artist’s vision was to make it intentionally unappealing, thereby making some kind of statement about the way we as a culture so often objectify women and reduce them to little more than a collection of appropriately placed “lumps”. Is it really social satire and a clever parody of the state of pop music? Perhaps, but only if the Black Eyed Peas are fully aware of their existence of a parody of a pop group, complete with the scantily clad chanteuse and omnipresent plugs and cross promotions.

Having viewed their descent from semi-underground rap group with legitimate cred with hip-hop aficionados to iPod-NBA-Playofs-Best-Buy-and-God-knows-whatever-else shilling sellouts, I think we can officially discount that theory. It gives me chills to think that when their first album dropped in ‘98, one might have actually heard their name mentioned in the same breath as Common or Talib Kweli. Now they’re going head to head with Bowling for Soup for Nickelodeon Kid’s choice awards. Go figure. Anyway, given their recent trajectory towards catering to the lowest common denominator, we can come to terms with the fact that the Black Eyed Peas are no Jonathan Swift and “My Humps” is no Modest Proposal. It’s just a really shitty song.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 10th, 2005 at 6:08 pm and is filed under Word of Reason. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.