M.I.A.
Kala
“How many no-money boys are crazy? How many start a war?” The real answer to those frequently-quoted questions from Kala’s “Boyz” is, “Um… historically, a lot.” But in M.I.A.’s hands, the clever lyrics become completely subversive; she makes you believe that no poor kid ever caused any conflict ever. This may have a lot to do with M.I.A.’s hyper-aggressive persona—she could say just about anything with enough force and you’d buy it; let’s hope she never gets into advertising—but it also stands at odds with the way Kala sounds. Kala sounds and feels poor, and not in a substandard way; in a Jean-Michael Basquiat way. M.I.A. recorded live South Indian drummers for the out-of-control beat on “Bird Flu;” they sound as if they could be the sickest subway performers on the planet. “World Town” inspires visions of an all-aboriginal cast of Annie. The cover is absolutely atrocious, but something about its obnoxious neon colors and badly pixilated graphics suits the album perfectly. It comes off like a concert poster done on an Amiga in a Sri Lankan public library. And Kala’s poverty feels hostile, from the gunshot chorus of “Paper Planes” to the anthemic opener, “Bamboo Banga.” Even her references to rock icons The Modern Lovers, The Clash and Pixies are rife with instigation. She turns “Roadrunner” into a rallying cry, “Straight To Hell” into an aural assault, and “Where Is My Mind?” into a voice in the wilderness. In the end, M.I.A.’s subversiveness may undermine her actual political intent. Even so, her greatest achievement in drawing together so many disparate sources into a united, revolutionary patchwork might not be actually changing the world, but making you want to believe that she can.
-Marty Brown, 2008
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