Will.I.Am, There’s Still Time To Not Release Your Solo Album

One would be reasonable in assuming that Will.I.Am.’s forthcoming solo album would be a fall highlight for retailers and the bean counters at Interscope. The last Black Eyed Peas disc has sold nine million copies so far, and (despite any sort of force for justice in this universe) the Will-masterminded Fergie solo album has been certified double platinum. As a highly sought-after hit maker and a member of one of the more popular groups of recent years, there shouldn’t be any reason to doubt the success of Will.I.Am’s Songs About Girls. An article in yesterday’s Los Angeles Times, however, brings one question to mind: Is it too late to pretend this whole thing never happened?

On the surface, it looks like Times staff writer August Brown has made a most sincere attempt to pay Interscope back for a hookup with great tickets to a recent TV On The Radio gig with a press release masquerading itself as an article for a major newspaper (note: this scenario might not have actually happened). But Brown’s piece should result in Ted Field and Jimmy Iovine readying themselves for a Clive Davis-style intervention. There are some signs within this desperately fawning article that Will.I.Am might have a real stinker on his hands–and not even in the “What kind of self-loathing idiot would actually purchase this thing?” way that the Fergie album stinks:

Will.I.Am of the Black Eyed Peas heartily endorses the practice of safe sex. But what should one do to protect against the possible emotional damage from coupling up?

“I wish there were a kind of heart condom,” Will said. “Say I’m a skanky dude who gave my girlfriend herpes. Now, you can take a cream and make that disappear. But for the rest of their life, they’re going to be jaded.”

First of all, it’s obvious Mr. I.Am didn’t do terribly well in Health class back at Palisades High, but beyond that, when someone’s talking about an imagined prophylactic for one’s emotions, you get the feeling that he isn’t drawing from the same inspirational wellspring that created “My Humps.”

Will (who’s quick to add that he is in fact disease-free) has a more reliable tactic for fending off the ache of a breakup: Write an album about it. “Songs About Girls,” the third solo album from the Peas’ producer and rapper, due Sept. 25 from will.i.am Music Group/Interscope, walks the unlikely line between a Patrón-soaked party record and a meta-concept album detailing the aftermath of a particularly vicious dumping.

While I don’t doubt that an entire section in the music store of the future will be dedicated to “Patrón-soaked party record(s),” the R&B market of today isn’t really screaming out to hear the contents of Will’s friends-only Livejournal entries from the days when he wasn’t sure if love even existed (at least for someone like him), no matter how “meta” the album’s “concept” might be.

The record’s likely first single, “I Got It From My Mama,” suggests that Will has recovered nicely; its blunt-as-a-brick-wall chorus hook makes “My Humps” seem positively Churchillian. But like any love that ends unfortunately, the album has many stages of grief. “It’s Over” finds Will sulking over a crisp funk bass line, while “I’m a Heart Breaker” gives him an electro-soul outlet to cop to his bad habits in relationships.

“I Got It From My Mama” lacks the vocal synthesizing so popular on the urban airwaves these days, but it does have some promise as a hit, discussing the relative quality of women’s bodies and the complicated genetics of human childbirth in a fun party atmosphere. However, the R&B world has beaten Will.I.Am to the punch, covering a more contemporary multi-stage grief process: feelings of suicide, followed by alcoholism, then a somewhat sincere apology.

At this point, frankly, it seems like we should be concerned about Will.I.Am’s mental health.

“I was so broken up about it. Now I’m picking fruit,” Will said, ever ready with a chin-stroking metaphor. “I’ve got so many oranges, limes, grapes. I’m supplying Ralphs and Whole Foods.”

Mr. I.Am, Idolator begs you, even if August Brown wasn’t brave enough to say it: stop this solo album madness before it’s too late. We’re only saying this for your own good. You can thank us later by accidentally erasing the Pro Tools files for the next Fergie disc. That should even things up, as far as we’re concerned.

Peas leader has ex-rated album ready [LA Times]