Essays from 116th Street

Self-therapy, since 2004...

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Location: New York, New York

Friday, May 26, 2006

A Serious Conundrum

I am presently faced with a dilemma, which, unresolved, could threaten the very fabric of my definition of human existence: I am thoroughly obsessed with Sergio Mendes' "Mas Que Nada." Liking a song, even loving one, rarely presents a dilemma of any kind, of course; the problem in this instance is the overwhelming presence of my musical nemeses, The Black Eyed Peas.Those who know me well are well aware of my hatred of BEP, which borders on a Luthor-esque mission to eradicate them from existence. Much like the relationship between my main man Lex and Kal-El, the Peas and I were once on good terms with each other; their well-documented and admitted sellout killed our friendship for good. Thus, it has been my duty to provide hateration, even upon hearing them at their most avant-garde.So I was chilling at home, firing up my Playstation 2 for an initial go-'round in 2006 FIFA World Cup, when the game intoned upon my earlobes the hottest song I'd heard since Zuco 103's "Garganteiro." Upon further listening, I felt the familiar pangs of guilt come over me, and the question "Is that The Black Eyed Peas?" began to linger in my mind. I navigated the game's menus, to discover the song's origin, and was relieved to find it attributed to Sergio Mendes. But then, I heard the disgustingly familiar "Ooh La, La, La La" that Fergie has somehow managed to make her calling card, and I knew the ugly truth to be true. Unfortunately for me, the song was too good to not listen to again; the slow process of The Black Eyed Peas creeping into my consciousness had already become an inevitability.As is commonplace with anything associated with those effing sellouts, I next encounted the song via a TV commercial. My usual righteous indignation was mellowed out, however, that the commercial in question happened to be one of those excellent Nike Joga Bonito joints with the Brazil soccer team. I still couldn't hate. Then, the other night, I was participating in one of my favorite new activities, checking out the outstanding Radio Mundial at Camaradas, when Radio's lead singer started singing the hook to "Mas Que Nada" over an improvised samba beat. Rather than getting an ice grill, I got extra excited instead. What in the world has come over me?The good news is that I'm not entirely carried away; I contemplated purchasing Sergio Mendes' Timeless, but a few listens on Amazon clued me in to the fact that the Peas are all over this album: I passed. So I know I'm not entirely delusional, but I'll be damned if my heart doesn't warm every time I hear the opening rhythms to this song. What's a righteous brother to do?

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