Let me get this out of the way immediately: I sincerely, truly despise Fergie's solo debut, The Dutchess. I am not just being a snobby critic or taking potshots at an easy target. This album is a disgrace to pop music on every level, and by far the year's worst release.
Every last enjoyable second (and there aren't many) of music on The Dutchess is based on a sample. "Fergalicious" samples Afro Rican. "Clumsy" samples Little Richard. And when I say "sample," I don't mean reinterpreting a small snippet of the original.
Fergie literally takes half-minute segments and sings inane lyrics like "Fergalicious/So delicious/But I ain't promiscuous." As if it's not enough to commit aural hate crimes with songs like "London Bridge," Fergie also desecrates older artists.
"Here I Come" is the worst, though. Fergie wails over the Tempations classic "Get Ready," in what I imagine must resemble karaoke night in hell.
Listening to Fergie ruin Motown is the year's most offensive song. I'd be less upset if I saw Gandhi's image promoting an all-you-can-eat buffet, or heard a car dealership declaring "a jihad on the automotive market." (Wait, didn't that just happen?)
Fergie also includes one of those I'll-whine-about-critics-giving-me-bad-reviews tracks, called "Pedestal." "You hide behind computer screens so you don't have to be seen/How could a person be so mean?" Fergie laments, later warning us "You think I don't see you on the Internet," while typing sound effects (I'm not making this up) are sampled.
The song also starts with the mini refrain "Your pedestal is falling down, falling down, falling down" to the tune of "London Bridge is Falling Down." Yes, Fergie is so incompetent that she repeats the reference to the children's melody of "London Bridge" in an entirely different song.
Fergie also shows her detachment from reality by alternately whining about her rough life -- child actors have it tough -- and then bragging about her wealth. She boasts about how she "be up in the gym just working on my fitness," but then two songs later asks "Would you love me if I didn't work out?"
Worse yet is "Glamorous," in which she tries to show that's she's still Fergie from the block by singing "I still go to Taco Bell/Drive-through, raw as hell." This song starts with the refrain "If you ain't got no money take yo' broke ass home/G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S." Fergie later sings "Reminiscing on days when I had a Mustang." Here's a tip, Ferg: If you're trying to get sympathy, talk about driving a Pinto or an Edsel, not a Mustang.
Speaking of product placement, here's a few more I noticed: Grey Goose, L'Oreal, the children's cartoon underwear brand Underoos, UNO cards and an entire song devoted to "Mary Jane Shoes," which I thought was a pot song, but is apparently an actual brand.
Ferg does, of course, recruit Bob Marley's wife Rita to give it a reggae sound and obvious connotation. They even sample "No Woman No Cry," the kind of move that should get Rita disowned from the family. More humorously, the song's last minute breaks the hazy vibe and triples the tempo, making me wish Fergie had been true to herself and just recorded "Crystal Meth Boots" instead.
And, of course, Fergie lists God in the "thank you" section of the liner notes. I'm pretty sure He didn't have anything to do with this album.
In fact, this album is a good example of the notion that you can't prove something true, you can only prove it not true.
This album doesn't just represent everything that's wrong with today's pop music; it breaks new ground for terrible.
If you like this album, if you even tolerate this album, you have no respect for song craft, art, creativity or good music. Fergie certainly doesn't.
Grade: F
