Fergalicious

Fergie ft. Will.I.Am
Album: The Duchess (2006 A&M)

(the lyrics)


Summary

Having made up a new word to describe what sets her apart from other women, our speaker sets out to describe it. Aside from good genes and certain biological traits, the key to her sexual irresistibility appears to be a strict “look, don’t touch” policy. She dismisses the failed attempts of fans and posers to associate with her, making her boundaries clear, though she clearly relishes the spotlight of mass male attention. She relents slightly at one point, offering the possibility to the listener that if they wait long enough, they might have the opportunity to engage in some sort of sexual union. Then, suddenly aware that all this vanity might be off-putting to some, she apologizes in a way, but asserts that she simply can’t help it: the public consensus is that she is attractive and therefore she is awarded certain rights and privileges.

Analysis

Stacey Ferguson has never been one for subtlety, since earning her stripes and graduating from the Black Eyed Peas’ School of La-La-Las. Her lyrics tend to have the slightly nerve-wracking effect of an ESL student making a dirty joke; the coyness is there but the words are anything but subtle, and are followed an awkward “get it?” wink. Friend, there’s nothing to get. “Lovely Lady Lumps” is probably the opposite of a euphemism.

So, “Fergalicious.” It’s a song about cunnilingus, among other things. Triple-duh. In plain English:

Fergalicious
Definition: adj. Having a nice-tasting vagina, and not being generous about it.

In the World of the Song, EVERYBODY knows that Ferg’s got a yummy cooter. This means that, in the World of the Song, either an astronomical number of people have gone down on her, or the subject is so fascinating that rumors of it qualify as a topic of conversation. Stranger things have happened; I’m sure if universities started offering degrees in Celebrity Anorexia Evaluation, college enrollment would soar. At any rate, public fascination, rather than the narrator’s own libertine behavior seems more likely, considering the ad nauseum assertion of her selectivity (In the World of the Song.)

What interests me most is the thin line here between slutty and blameless. Fergie IS a tease. Fergie is NOT promiscuous. (If you told me five years ago that “promiscuous” would become a pop culture buzzword, entering the vocabularies of 10-year-olds around the world, I would have slapped you and then tongue-kissed you.) You CAN’T come up and talk to her at a party. You CAN jack off to a picture of her. Fergie will NOT fuck you. Fergie WILL give you a killer BJ. That last part is questionable, but I personally couldn’t help but hear shades of Kelis in the following:

I blow kisses (mmmwwahhh)
That puts them boys on rock, rock
And they be lining down the block just to watch what I got

So, she hands out the blowjobs like it ain’t no thing but doesn’t let anyone return the favor. I’m not judging, but that doesn’t seem like a lifestyle choice I’d write a song about, at least not one so dancefloor-ready. If you want, there could be a much darker reading of the song, starting from the open-ended and mysterious line: “I got reasons why I tease them.” What are her reasons? Past betrayal? Abuse? With that phrase alone “Fergalicious” could become a melancholy, sado-masochistic torch song sung by a woman who, scarred by a trauma of the heart, denies herself pleasure with other human beings and toys with the hearts of men.

Except for the fact that “Fergalicious” is too much fucking fun. The beat rolls out like a Hummer on I-15 trying to make it to Vegas before midnight, and cuts to the bare minimum just when it needs to. Fergie’s delivery is sassy and matter-of-fact, albeit a blatant Peaches impression, and largely spoken-word—a voice we haven’t really heard from her before. It’s a decidedly stronger voice than Will.I.Am, who here is a bored would-be impresario later relegated to the chorus, singing her praises in traditional exponential style.

Boys are her doting playthings in the song; they line down the block for an awful lot of things, even just to watch Ferg hit the treadmill. In the Wonka-themed video they dance with delightfully unsubtle candy canes, brainless robots with dicks attached. In that sense, despite all the innuendo, this is one of the least sexual songs currently on the air, if sexuality is to be defined as a chemical reaction between people who are attracted to each other. There is no attraction in this song, only fanaticism, and Fergie herself is certainly not turned on by any of the hullabaloo. “Fergalicious” is more a self-image manifesto than come-on, it would have been a fantastic debut song but works just as well as a renewal of vows of sorts.

My Only Unanswered Question:

Is that really how you spell tast(e)y?


(the video)