Spring Break
M.I.A. mixes dance beats, reverb echoes, disco flow
COULTER MCWHORTER
Issue date: 9/11/07 Section: Variety
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M.I.A.'s first eclectic record, "Arular," gushed positive critiques with only a splash in commercial sales.
In her latest globe-trotting adventure, "Kala," she couldn't care less, and that's good enough for us.
Grade: B
Verdict: Most of M.I.A's shots fired hit their marks.Picture "Bamboo Banga," with M.I.A. perched on the edge of a giant 808 synthesizer, pumping her fist and declaring her newfound "Power! Power!" via loudspeaker, confidently spouting "sittin' down chewing on gunpowder/strike-match-light-fire."
The second track, "BirdFlu," shows off her underground credentials against the lack of choices proposed by her career counselor, stuffing the speakers with Indian-esque percussion and children cheering her to sing again.
"Boyz" brings out the heavy weaponry with maraca and African hand-drums pounding away. Then, she switches to lasers and '70s-inspired disco beats for backup in "Jimmy" long enough to hold our attention until "Hussel" stops the beat with guest Afrikan Boy and its barreled vibrations.
The track "Mango Pickle Down River" sticks out like a nail plugged into a two-by-four wielded by the adolescent Australian group The Wilcannia Mob over wind instruments, reminding us why parents doled out the dangers of experimenting.
Shifting (literally) to reverb echoes and bass, "20 Dollar" racks up pot shots against quite a few targets: cheap Kalashnikovs, radicalized kids choosing the Qu'ran or the new car, and amateur Internet critics trying to cut M.I.A down.
The dance energy returns in "World Town" stocked with gunplay and thievery to a cut-and-paste pulse and a siren-like kazoo. It takes a sudden dip into the calm of "The Turn" with another hand-beaten drum as M.I.A laments her own pressures and idiosyncrasies.
Here's where the ride careens into the middle of a shady club. On "XR2," tripped-up engineered beats on acid assault the ears, leaving the hangover enough time to recover with "Paper Planes" and its methodical pace. But only until the gunshots and child chorus attuned to robbery queues in.
It's odd to stop it all at "Come Around," a Timbaland® production complete with guest vocals themed in an Indian casino, of all places. As a club track, it's appropriate enough, but as a standalone, there's little to separate it from any other requisite DJ set.
In the end, how M.I.A. got away with an album like this is beyond me.
In her latest globe-trotting adventure, "Kala," she couldn't care less, and that's good enough for us.
M.I.A.
Grade: B
Verdict: Most of M.I.A's shots fired hit their marks.
The second track, "BirdFlu," shows off her underground credentials against the lack of choices proposed by her career counselor, stuffing the speakers with Indian-esque percussion and children cheering her to sing again.
"Boyz" brings out the heavy weaponry with maraca and African hand-drums pounding away. Then, she switches to lasers and '70s-inspired disco beats for backup in "Jimmy" long enough to hold our attention until "Hussel" stops the beat with guest Afrikan Boy and its barreled vibrations.
The track "Mango Pickle Down River" sticks out like a nail plugged into a two-by-four wielded by the adolescent Australian group The Wilcannia Mob over wind instruments, reminding us why parents doled out the dangers of experimenting.
Shifting (literally) to reverb echoes and bass, "20 Dollar" racks up pot shots against quite a few targets: cheap Kalashnikovs, radicalized kids choosing the Qu'ran or the new car, and amateur Internet critics trying to cut M.I.A down.
The dance energy returns in "World Town" stocked with gunplay and thievery to a cut-and-paste pulse and a siren-like kazoo. It takes a sudden dip into the calm of "The Turn" with another hand-beaten drum as M.I.A laments her own pressures and idiosyncrasies.
Here's where the ride careens into the middle of a shady club. On "XR2," tripped-up engineered beats on acid assault the ears, leaving the hangover enough time to recover with "Paper Planes" and its methodical pace. But only until the gunshots and child chorus attuned to robbery queues in.
It's odd to stop it all at "Come Around," a Timbaland® production complete with guest vocals themed in an Indian casino, of all places. As a club track, it's appropriate enough, but as a standalone, there's little to separate it from any other requisite DJ set.
In the end, how M.I.A. got away with an album like this is beyond me.
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