Our own Chuck Eddy has already dissected “Boom Boom Pow” here, so I’ll leave that one to him and turn to the other singles coming off The E.N.D., as well as some of their older stuff.

Song: “I Gotta Feeling,” the second single off The E.N.D.
Face Value Reading: This is a song about partying, getting drunk, and getting stupid, complete with nearly meaningless and certainly not particularly poetic lyrics (“Here we come/ Here we go/ We gotta rock”) that are often repeated incessantly (at one point, Will.i.am says, “Let’s do it” 15 times in a row).
Alternate Reading: This is a song about dystopian hedonism and the search for hope in the face of recession and depression. It’s not difficult to make that argument about any party-happy song during trying economic times (in fact, it’s been made about the whole of disco). But “I Gotta Feeling” seems to fit the analysis rather perfectly: it is a song that, lyrically, is about feeling good, having fun, drinking and dancing and (apparently, if the video is to be believed) lesbian kissing your troubles away. All that debauchery is set to beats that are almost wistful and pensive and a melody that seems to work to propel the song forward and only gradually gathers steam, almost as if it’s convincing itself to, as the lyrics say, “get off the couch.”

Which makes you take another listen to those hedonistic lyrics: first, there are the economic references: “Easy come, easy go/ Now we on top,” for instance, sounds like a gambler’s motto (and aren’t we all gamblers right now?). And then there’s “Tonight’s the night, let’s live it up/ I got my money, let’s spend it up” — as in, might as well spend it now, while you’ve got it. Not practical advice in this crappy economy, but certainly a sentiment anyone who’s been broke can identify with.

Then there are the “I Will Survive” moments. The Peas don’t say “tonight rocks”; they say, “I gotta feeling” it will. In other words, they hope it will, perhaps against all odds. And they back it up with entreaties for us all to help each other and hold together: first, they all engage in a kind of unison call-and-response: “Fill up my cup!” they all shout, and Fergie calls back, “Drink!” And then Will’s infinitely repeated “Let’s do it” comes back in. But as the song builds in intensity and all the Peas join in, echoing Will’s imperative, it sounds more like a call to arms to survive this together — dare I say, a B.E.P.-style “Yes, we can!” or maybe “Live together or die alone” — than just nonsensical lyrics.

Song: “Imma Be”
Face Value Reading: Another single off The E.N.D., this is a song that’s structured around an oft-repeated respelling of “I’m going to be” and that relies all too heavily on the Peas’ not-so-stellar rhyming skills (e.g., “check” with “check,” “blog” with “job”) and seems to be solely focused on copping a “no, really, we’re down” kind of swagger.
Alternate Reading: This one’s a little simpler because, really, I think it is mostly about trying to prove that they are legitimate hip-hop artists. It’s the most straight-up hip-hop track on a mostly sung(/Auto-Tuned) album, mainly featuring a slow strut of a beat. Even Fergie does more rapping than singing. Rather than a bunch of poseurs trying to look cool, however, I think what we have here is an act of translation — something the Peas have long been in the business of doing. A good part of their career has been devoted to translating hip-hop idioms into their own multicultural, wholesome-as-Dr. Pepper language, and vice versa.

For instance, Apl.de.Ap begins “The Apl Song,” his autobiographical account of moving from a Philippine barrio to Los Angeles, by saying, “Every place got a ghetto/ This my version.” Similarly, on “Imma Be,” B.E.P. attempt to expand the paradigm of hip-hop to carve out a space for their own G-rated, “We Are the World”-style braggadocio. More significantly, they try to recast Fergie as a legit hip-pop artist. She takes the first verse (which, frankly, flows a good deal better than the boys’ verses) and dutifully extols her own skills like any good hip-hop emcee. Instead of waxing poetic about her big guns or her dexterous tongue, however, she brags about shaking her hips so that you lick your lips and “doing one-handed flips” (something she actually does in concert). In other words, it’s a way of saying, “Look, we know how the hip-hop narrative is supposed to go and we can do it; we just use different words.”

Song: “My Humps”
Face Value Reading: Oh, jeez. I’m not sure we even need to recap it, but let’s just say we can thank this song for giving us quite possibly the most unattractive word for lady parts ever (and that list includes “lady parts”).
Alternate Reading: Don’t laugh, but I have always thought this song has got to be some kind of “Material Girl“-esque, backdoor feminist (yeah, that’s right) paean. As in, “You think I’m so dumb and so self-objectifying that I actually refer to my own body parts as ‘humps’ and ‘lumps,’ but what’s really going on is that I am mocking your own drooling, slack-jawed ogling of me and your totally artless attempts to seduce me by cutting straight to the chase: you are so dumb that you can’t see anything other than humps and lumps. And oh yeah, you probably think this song is about you. Meanwhile, I will be busy getting you drunk off said lumps, taking you for all you’ve got, and yet still never giving it up.” It’s the ultimate cock-block to the male gaze, people! Seriously, there should have been a “mwa ha ha” following one of those “my humps” somewhere.