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 This album is a contradictory monster - abrasive and celebratory, discordant and melodious, loving and aggressive, political and… well, unpolitical!
Apart from a really jarring feature from Timbaland on a political song where he ends up spouting loads of nonsense about his libido and girth, and a misjudged cover version of ‘Where Is My Mind?’ by the Pixies, there isn’t much to fault on MIA’s ‘difficult’ second album. Her backstory has gotten more column inches than her music and I won’t go into that here, because it’s probably best she didn’t do a whole album with Timbaland, as what’s on show here is something so cutting edge, my fingers are bleeding just typing about it.
‘Bamboo Banger’ sets the tone with the rallying call to arms of MIA coming back with power-power. When it takes off at the end, it really sets your heart rate pulsing through to ‘Bird Flu’ which is discordant and melodious all at the same time. The triptych of ‘Bird Flu’ ‘Boyz’ and ‘Jimmy’ all show MIA’s embracing of her Sri Lankan roots, and digging out those Bollywood samples. However, as this is MIA, they’re never quite as simple as 4 bar sample, and repeat. These are re-sequenced, re-honed and effected to high heaven before you hear them. ‘Jimmy’ even finds her singing a long song that name-cheques Darfur. It’s a brilliant dancefloor-busting amazing monolith of song, both cheesy and sophisticated at the same time, ‘Jimmy-ajaa’ being whispered and cooed so delicately, sitting perfectly with the anarchy of the lyrics. This is a full aural assault that ends in a Shangri-La’s-esque quiver and cry.
Politics is the means and method on this album. MIA is not happy, and not only is she not happy with the way the world is being run, she’s not happy with you either. Or me, for that matter. She would probably scoff at me reviewing her album when I could be off fighting civil wars. She wears her politics on her sleeve, lambasting her listeners with the question of how much $20 means to them and how much it means to a kid in Africa? This is a proper political album, somewhere between soundbite polemic and textured comment.
This is also a much more musical album than her first effort, ‘Arular’, which was trendy and minimalist and meant for the dancefloor. Here, she uses percussion and embraces a slower tempo, and hell, in places, she even sings. Especially, on the best song on the album, ‘Paper Planes’, which showcases a ruff singing voice and some choice sound effects. Buy this album.
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