I haven’t exiled anyone for a while (my last eviction was Wil Anderson, and he’s still refusing to actually go away) so this week I have decided to get rid of the Most Annoying Band on Earth.
“Who?” you ask (because you're too stupid to read the title of this post). Well, there were many contenders vying for this gong, not least of which were Gwen Stefani, The Pussycat Dolls, and Akon. But given two of those were solo artists, not bands, I had to settle for BEP instead. (To be honest, the jury’s still out as to whether The Pussycat Dolls are a band at all, as after many scientific experiments and lab tests, no one seems to be able to determine how many girls are actually in the group.) (Seriously, is that dark haired girl screwing the video director or what? None of the others even get a look in).
Of course it was also hard to overlook the Crazy Frog for this week’s eviction, especially as the bloody thing seems to be on tour at the moment and is lining up an album deal with The Hoff, but when an animation that goes “ba-ding-ding-ding” can feature no less than THREE TIMES on the ARIA singles chart, I feel I should be giving praise, not criticising. After all, some bastard is making lots of money for doing absolutely fuck all, and they get my applause, even if their money maker is making me want to stick a pencil in my eye. (And let’s face it, stupid animations singing “ba-ding-ding-ding” could very well apply to Gorillaz right now, and they’re apparently cool, so you know – perspective, people.)
As a side note: another contender for exile this week (which, if it continues to annoy me, may very well be cause for me to throw my TV into the neighbour's yard quite soon) is that Hungry Jacks ad for the Tandoori Chicken Baguette that goes "Aiee-aiee-aiee-aiee-ahhh OH YEAHHHHHHH!!!!!" about 17 times every adbreak. WHOEVER CREATED THAT AD SHOULD BURN IN HELL.
However, in the end, I have decided that the title of Most Annoying Band on Earth goes to:
Spot the Photoshopped-in band member.
Yes, The Black Eyed Peas. Admit it, they suck.
Now here’s where I make a confession – I used to like BEP. I REALLY liked them. I had Behind the Front and Bridging the Gap and I still think Weekends is one of the best tracks ever. But then SHE came along. That devil woman they call Fergie.
Admittedly when I first heard Fergie was singing with the Black Eyed Peas I thought it was a great idea – she could sing about weight loss, and getting her toes sucked, and being fat, and losing weight, and being ginger, and being fat, and losing weight. But alas, they weren’t getting the former Duchess of Pork to rock freestylee on the mic-ro-phone. We had to settle for this leathery piece of beef jerky with a boob job.
I had hope for the band – ‘Perhaps some chick vocals will be a good thing’, I thought.
And then they released Where is the Love. I’LL TELL YOU WHERE THE LOVE IS, IT’S IN THE TRASH ALONG WITH YOUR REPUTATION, YOU COMMERCIAL BLING-BLING BASTARDS!
Now they’ve released My Humps, a song that is only slightly more annoying than the Hungry Jacks ad for that Tandoori Chicken Baguette.
Sersiously, what the FUCK is this song? I DEFY ANYONE to actually sit through this utter garbage without at least THINKING about killing themselves.
I’m afraid the in-depth lyrics and music craft of BEP might be lost on most listeners, so here’s a simple breakdown of the best bits:
All that junk inside your trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
Clearly she is a refuse-carrying camel that also provides alcoholic beverages to passers-by. A great franchise idea, by the way, for any entrepreneurs who might be reading this.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps.
She must be some sort of mutant dromedary, as she obviously has more than one hump – the chorus sees her pointing each of them out. Or perhaps BEP were commissioned to write an ad for routine breast checking and the deal didn't work out, so they've just worked the jingle into their new song. Either/or.
She said “Hey, hey, hey, yeah let’s go.”
Great rhyme! And I love how they’ve given this girl a stutter in order that the second line should keep meter with the first. I don’t know where the camel has gone at this point.
Lets spend time, not money.
I mix your milk wit my cocoa puff,
Milky, milky cocoa,
Mix your milk with my cocoa puff, milky, milky riiiiiiight.
Um, ”riiiight” is right... Actually I’m not even sure about this bit. I think he’s talking about sex. The camel is still absent.
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’m a make, make, make, make you scream
Make u scream, make you scream.
The camel makes a triumphant return! And she’s not going to be lending this guy no donkey, no siree! It’s HER or nothing.
If you touch it I'ma start some drama,
You don’t want no drama,
No, no drama, no, no, no, no drama
The camel is now pointing out that she is a NIDA graduate, and could easily star in a soap opera if she weren’t currently occupied with refuse collecting and alcohol serving.
Anyway, for writing this stupid, ridiculous, thoroughly boring song, I say: It’s time to go, Black Eyed Peas.
And in closing, this and this.