M.I.A. "Kala" (XL Recordings/Interscope Records) Sounds like: The epitome of a successful follow-up album.
Few artists can match Mathangi "Maya" Arulpragasam's fiery, socio-political gusto, and the London-native's genre-bending sophomore album, "Kala," serves as testament. After dazzling critics with her Mercury Prize-nominated debut, "Arular," Maya, nicknamed M.I.A., had mounting expectations to meet with her highly anticipated follow-up album. Fusing rap, hip-hop, electronica, grime and baile funk beats, M.I.A. has delivered a dizzying kaleidoscope of international voices.
"Kala" is a maverick, global album in every sense, namely as its production took place across the world, from India, Trinidad and Jamaica to Australia, Japan and Baltimore. With such a diverse landscape came an equally diverse repertoire of producers, including the likes of the U.K.'s DJ Switch, Philadelphia-based Brazilian baile funk specialist Diplo and mastermind genre revisionist Timbaland. All of these cross-cultural locales and artists have left their own individual traces upon "Kala," presenting patchwork of bustling universal sound.
As intoxicating as the beats might be, the album's ultimate objective is to conjure up awareness of the poverty-stricken nooks and corners of the world that we, wrapped up in our array of luxuries and indulgences, have all but forgotten or, as M.I.A. implies, chosen to ignore. On the album's opening track, "Bamboo Banga," she acknowledges automotive extravagance as she cunningly purrs, "I'm knocking on the doors of your Hummer Hummer / Yeah, I'm knocking on the doors of your Hummer Hummer." While M.I.A. undoubtedly took her share of swings at the white-collar upper class elite on "Arular," her tactics here on "Kala" are far more aggressive, startling and ultimately successful. M.I.A. conceals herself so deep into the personas of her characters that one forgets that she is actually a 30-year-old music sensation and not a besieged parent as she is on the track "Hussel" when she belts out, "We do it cheap hide our money in a heap / Send it home and make 'em study / Fixing teeth, I got family, a friend in need / A hand to throw the gasoline."
The album's finest track, however, is "Paper Planes," a gritty, poignant tale of guerilla warfare, greed and power. The most haunting aspect of the track is the chorus performed by a children's choir: "All I wanna do is (four gunshots) / And (cash register 'ka-ching') / And take your money." At the end of the song, she declares "third world democracy." Despite a couple of forgettable tracks, this is an energized, globe-trotting odyssey that offers listeners the most creative musical departure since Panda Bear's "Person Pitch"
