Tag: M.I.A.
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M.I.A., a.k.a. Maya Arulpragasam, lives up to her stage name on Kala, the follow-up to 2005’s Arular—she represents and champions the musicians who tend to remain “missing in action,” overlooked by most popular artists of our time in favor of bland beats and overdone rhymes. There’s nothing dull about M.I.A., from her fresh take on traditional hip-hop beats to her boldly colored outfits, to her mesmerizing live performances: tight and electric, despite it being just her, a background dancer and a machine. Kala adds to the multiple sonic levels of her one-woman show, bringing in the voices of India, Africa, Australia, and more to her unique sound. M.I.A. has already made a name for herself and now she’s inviting the entire world to the party, effectively striving to, as she says, “put people on the map that never seen a map."
“Bamboo Banga,” the album’s opening track, lets us know that M.I.A. means business. She gets things wired with sing-song lyrics, informing us with a total-reckoning authority that Kala is a “jungle banga”—no, wait, a “cold jammer.” This battle cry is seconded with the rallying shout of “Power! Power!” and we’re immediately schooled in the ways of M.I.A.: she’s not a flash in the pan, nor a bewildered vocalist looking to big-time producers for success—not that she doesn’t have a solid back-up team. In her recent, provocative interview with Pitchfork Media, she insisted that despite the collaborative efforts of producers such as Diplo, Switch and Timbaland, her music is all her own, birthed from her own story. For more proof, one need only look to the songs themselves. Kala offers glimpses of M.I.A.’s youth (“Jimmy,” the glitzy, radio-ready cover of a Bollywood classic from her childhood) and her own unadulterated world perspectives, as in the dense and heavy “Hussel,” a gritty, layered track that serves as the album's cornerstone, in which guest vocalist Afrikan Boy reminds us: “You think it’s tough now, come to Africa.”
Female musicians like M.I.A., unafraid to separate themselves from the pack, are a rare breed. Though she was meant to record most of Kala in the US with Timbaland, VISA problems kept her from doing so—an unforeseen blessing. The one Timbaland number that makes it onto the track list, “Come Around,” is a catchy party-stirrer on its own, yet it sounds timid and paint-by-numbers compared to the rest of the album. One has to wonder Timb is even thinking, following up M.I.A.’s rhyme of “In a faraway land, we got shit made / Ray-Ban shades, warheads laid / Babes born in air raids,” with his plea: “Girl, let me hit that.” This amusing (and purposeful?) juxtaposition exemplifies M.I.A.’s alternative to what’s already out there in hip-hop, rap and dance hall, and what’s been regurgitated to death. She speaks from the perspective of the vulnerable but resourceful immigrant in “Paper Planes,” the troubled revolutionary in “20 Dollar” (“Do you know the cost of AK's up in Africa? / 20 dollars ain't shit to you but that's how much they are”) and (heaven forbid?) the feminist in the restless “Bird Flu,” talking back to the men who are always “jumpin’ girl to girl, make us meat like burgers/ when I get fat I’ll pop me out some leaders.” No doubt any M.I.A. followers-turned-leaders will think globally and speak openly. And like her, they'll refuse to settle for less than a revolution.
Now, I know what you're all thinking. CMJ was eons ago, it's old news! Well, I apologize for being so tardy with my review of the shows I saw. The thing is, my camera broke right in the middle of the festivities and I was hoping to eventually get it fixed so I could write my review alongside all of the tasty photographs I took. No such luck, though; after two trips to the service center, the camera still doesn't work, so here I am, writing my review without the visual evidence. I hope you all don't mind. To soothe you savage beasts, I've got three days worth of fun after the jump: M.I.A. at Terminal 5, the BrooklynVegan Friday day show at R Bar, Sahara Hotnights, The Maccabees and Sons and Daughters at Bowery Ballroom, Foals at Pianos and Spoon at Roseland Ballroom! Phew, I'm tired just thinking about it.
