Baile funk, dancehall queen Maya Arulpragasam is back—or as she puts it on her new release, “M.I.A. coming back with power power.” She’s not kidding. Her much anticipated second album, which hit the U.S. August 21, is an explosion of electro dance beats fueled by political lyrics, world music, pounding drums, guest rappers, M.I.A.’s unique, brash style.
Kala, named for Ms. Arulpragasam’s mother, is as diverse as the countries in which it was recorded in: Japan, India, Trinidad, Jamaica, Australia and America. She leaves the cohesiveness of her first album Arular (her father) behind in both her sound and lyrical subjects. Where Arular focused mostly on her tumultuous upbringing—her father was a member of the radical Sri Lankan political group the Tamil Tigers, forcing her family to seek refuge in London—Kala explores world issues ranging from genocide, illegal immigration, and the low cost of firearms in Africa.
The result of mashing up various nations’ music, ideologies, and popular culture references is surprisingly refreshing. Instead of sounding deliberate and trite in her messages and music, M.I.A. finds subtle ways to keep Kala from sounding like a public service announcement. This isn’t a cry for charity; it’s an elaborate display of Arulpragasam’s sometimes cryptic, always blunt, point of view.
“Paper Planes,” perhaps one of the only songs on the album where M.I.A.’s often questionable vocal prowess comes through uncontested, uses a hook from The Clash’s “Straight to Hell” to give the otherwise mellow tune some edge—that is, until the chant, “All I wanna do is bang bang bang / and a / reload / kaching / and take your money,” kicks in. Amidst all the gunshots, M.I.A. finds time to give a shout out to “third world democracy.” All of this—The Clash reference, singsong tune, claims of “some, some, some, I murder / some I let go,” the politics—amount to something new. It’s part protest, part call for action, but it could easily be played and enjoyed in a club—even for those not familiar with M.I.A.
The albums opener, “Bamboo Banga,” abandons complication by going primal. It sounds like if you took a great, albeit over-produced hip-hop track, and boiled out the excess. The simplistic drums, echoes of “Roadrunner, roadrunner / with your radio on” (a nod to Jonathan Richman’s two-chord classic), and the way it lends itself to be blasted with the windows down—I know first hand—makes it addicting.
So, why all this talk of “ease” and playability? Well, at first listen Kala has the potential to be disregarded as a rough, disjointed, and too harsh for some. There is no song like cheery “Sunshowers,” off Arular (sound wise—the video was banned from MTV for the line, “Like the P.L.O. / I don’t surrender”). Tracks like “Bird Flu” and “Mango Pickle Down River,” are more experimental and can prove alienating to newer listeners. “Bird Flu” drops chicken squawks in between childlike chants and Indian instruments. In “Mango Pickle Down River,” a group of aboriginal boys quietly rap about fishing and other trivialities over a bellowing didgeridoo.
M.I.A. breaks the trend of abrupt, electronic beats and use of mind-boggling, unconventional sounds in a jaunty Bollywood disco tribute, “Jimmy,” and her collaboration with Timberland on “ Come Around.” While both songs are good, they don’t compare to the rest of the album. M.I.A. does manage, however, to throw in a some lyrical surprises the seemingly carefree “Jimmy”: “When you go Rwanda Congo / Take me on ya genocide tour / Take me on a truck to Darfur.” As for her work with Timbaland—it was actually a bonus track on his 2007 album Shock Value, but instead of being a highlight on Kala, it just seems like it was put in as an afterthought. Catchy yes, but definitely not fit for the album’s closing tune.
“$20” is by far one of Kala’s strongest. M.I.A. has been lauded by critics for her creativity and lambasted by others for the tendency to go overboard on sampling music. On “$20,” which doesn’t seem to be an extension of “$10” off Arular, she uses The Pixies’ lyrics and slows down New Order’s “Blue Monday” to provided a subtle backdrop for a powerful message. $20 buys an AK47 in Africa which rightfully begs the question, “Where is our mind?” –thus the infamous Pixies sample.
Kala is a pivotal album for our generation. It’s not so much because M.I.A. is a woman dropping a critically acclaimed album in the male-dominated hip-hop genre, nor is it because the album is labeled by many reviews as “groundbreaking.” Sure, those things are important but Kala deserves a nine because every song is good—damn good—I cannot stop listening to it.
