I feel roughly the same way about MIA as I do the Beastie Boys: I understand the critical acclaim, I respect the social significance, I see the greatness of some individual singles, but please god, don’t ever make me listen to an entire album. It’s just too much. So let’s explain it piece by piece.
The Critical Acclaim: Here’s how it looks to me as a middle-class suburban white kid, which most critics are. I want to like hip-hop, but I’m not, in any way, gangsta. I will admit this. So, since I don’t want to look like a square (or, even worse, a racist), I find hip-hop that’s a little less street – this is why every critic in the world loves Outkast (well, that and the fact that they make blisteringly awesome music). So here we have MIA – most of the time I can’t figure out what she’s saying, so it must be really intelligent. And, of course, there’s a real pack mentality to rock crit – no one wants to miss out on the next big thing, so one really good MIA review leads to five hundred others. It happens. It’s why License to Ill is referred to as a pantheon record when it’s basically what you’d get if you left a tape recorder in a high school locker room for any length of time.
The Social Significance: A woman in a male-dominated (in this case, literally dominated) genre. A Sri Lankan in an American-dominated industry. A revolutionary social conscience in a rap game more concerned with the shrinking exclusivity of the Maybach. These are all good things. I am for all of them. None of them make me want to listen to Arular any more. She is an alternative, yes. She is not the only alternative. Just because Lil’ Jon is too ignorant and Dizzee Rascal is too grimy, it doesn’t necessarily follow that MIA is great. Don’t give her credit just for not being things you don’t like.
The Greatness of Some Individual Singles: Yes, it’s finally time to talk about the actual music – bouncy but incomprehensible lyrics and homemade beats that Mike Skinner would be proud of. And sometimes, it works brilliantly. The horns on “Bucky Done Gone.” The strangely traditional disco sample on “Sunshowers.” These are the high points, the tracks that differentiate themselves from the rest of the album. Really, there aren’t any bad songs here, there are just a bunch of songs that blend together. Badly. I would nod my head to any one of these tunes in the club, but I would be throwing bottles at the DJ if he tried to play three of them in a row. So respect the singles. Any more than that, though, and prepare to duck. |