How will you spend your Thanksgiving break?
"/\/\/\Y/\"
M.I.A.
2 stars
Images
Never ask M.I.A. to explain how the Internet works. She will probably tell you anyway. "Hand bone connects to the computer connects to the Google connects to the government," she chants on "The Message," a
song that seems to be her paranoid, equally awful version of the "The Secret" — and apparently, your iPhone is twice removed from the government, too. On "/\/\/\Y/\," her unsubtly titled and un-Googleable new album, she dispatches many similar "messages" while producer Diplo desperately attempts to mangle her voice with shrill synthesizer blasts and primal, pounding beats.
It's hard to assess M.I.A.'s music without considering how annoying she is in everyday life. Her Twitter account is written IN ALL CAPS, she threw a temper tantrum when journalist Lynn Hirschberg accused her
of loving truffle french fries and, if Hirschberg's profile is to be believed, M.I.A.'s blind endorsement of the Tamil Tigers actually worsened civil war tensions in Sri Lanka. And yet, she always finds a way to transform this into song. On "Born Free," which consists of a sneering bass sample and bone-headed drum thrashing, she sings, "I throw this shit in your face, cuz I got something to say." The music video, which depicts ginger genocide, provides no answers as to what "this shit" might be, or what exactly she's "saying." At least she elaborates on later tracks.
"You told me this was a free country," she protests on "Lovalot." "Now it feels like a chicken factory." Notice that M.I.A. has just rhymed "free country" with "chicken factory." But then Diplo reels in some shakers and tribal rhythms and M.I.A dips into a languid rap ramble with her signature "laka laka li" made-up words. Here, her babbling is palatable because it's rendered incomprehensible by the jungle beat.
In these rare moments, the listener is free to enjoy the undeniably cool "concept" of M.I.A., a feverish five-foot-tall, throw-shit-in-your-face rebel. The music soon returns to the background and we hear the album's most honest sentiment: "I fight the ones that fight me / I really love a lot / I love the ones that fight me." M.I.A. needs conflict to exist, even if this means living in "Google connects to the government" delusion.
At least Diplo seems to be making the best of the situation. "Teqkilla" notably buries M.I.A.'s voice in a digital spasm of slugging bass notes, squawks and blaring synthesizer; when it drags on for another frantic two minutes, you can practically hear her instructions: "Yes, yes, make this one sound even more pissed off."
She definitely shows her skill as a curator of other people's sounds; on the (presumable) Sleigh Bells collaboration "Meds & Feds," her voice is diced up and we are treated to fist-pumping, jock-rock, jam-guitar action. In the end, she has something to say, but her music is most enjoyable when you can put your head on auto-nod and ignore what she's saying.
