Most Popular

Recent Articles

Recent Articles by Nate Patrin

National Features >

  • Village Voice

    The Book of Sarah

    Subjected to the light of day, Sarah Palin doesn't look like a maverick at all.

    By Wayne Barrett

  • SF Weekly

    Building Overtime

    Exposing a construction-site scam only a San Francisco cop could love.

    By Joe Eskenazi

  • Houston Press

    Don't Nobody Cry

    Ronald Taylor is one of perhaps hundreds of innocent people Harris County has put in prison.

    By Randall Patterson

  • Westword

    Open Secrets

    Sloppy U.S. government paperwork is putting the lives of asylum seekers at risk.

    By Lisa Rab

And the Wind Cries Maya

Even more galanging about M.I.A.

Nate Patrin

Published on March 23, 2005

M.I.A.
Arular
XL Recordings

 

At the decade's midpoint, we've finally got the beat of the Zero Years: an international consolidation of East-West styles all tied up neatly in an 808-shaped bow. In this quad-continental era, Erick Sermon responds to a Hindi lyric with "Whatever she said, then I'm that" and Jay-Z rides with Panjabi MC. Which makes it a good time for someone like Maya Arulpragasam to release her debut. A Sri Lankan refugee whose family fled the country (her father fought as a Tamil independence militant), she came of age in London with a Bomb Squad soundtrack. After Peaches coaxed her into tinkering with a Roland MC-505, M.I.A. released 2004's Q*Bert-ragga single "Galang" and its follow-up, a rubber-tabla reappropriation of Dr. Buzzard's "Sunshowers." Both tracks, which appear near the end of Arular, caught critics' attention because they fit into many different niches: grime, dancehall, hip hop, R&B.

Like the singles, the other songs on this full-length debut place an emphasis on Metroid explosion bass lines, maxi-minimalist click-rhythms, and the occasional burst of tinny 8-bit machine gun fire. From the retro-electro sprint "10 Dollar" to the slinky chimes of "Amazon," the tracks are simply a series of stunning exclamation points, and their success rests largely on M.I.A.'s vocals. Deadpan here, buoyant there, her voice is frequently double-tracked in a way that makes her sound like a one-woman Althea & Donna, flinging singsong lyrics like grenades on yo-yo strings. On the album's first song, her exhortation "Pull up the people/Pull up the poor" is a perfect slogan-as-chorus, and "Fire Fire" recounts her immigrant experiences as it name-drops various Jamaican ragga dance crazes: "Row da boat, straight to da ocean/Give 'im a run, a run at his own game/Signal the plane, and I landed on the runway/A survivor, independent foreigner." The beginning of "Bucky Done Gun" outlines her purpose: New York, London, Kingston, and Brazil are all told to "quiet'n down, I need to make a sound." If they don't, her voice can still penetrate the noise, staking roots in all four cities, all four sounds.



City Pages Insiders

  • Local food, music and news blasts
  • Free Stuff
Backpage.com