ORIGINAL RELEASE DATE: JULY 12TH 2010


On May 25th 2010 the New York Times published an article via Lynn Hirschberg which effectively demolished an image that Maya Arulpragasam had built up from the ground over the five years prior. The timing couldn’t have been worse; M.I.A. was gearing up for the release of her third album MAYA, following on from Kala, itself one of the most critically-acclaimed and adventurous albums of the past decade. The article focused on the many seeming contradictions surrounding her image and her politics with M.I.A. herself reacting by tweeting Hirschberg’s personal phone number for fans to bombard with hate mail. It wasn’t a very smart move and the controversy surrounding the article only seemed to substantiate a general feeling that M.I.A. does not completely practice what she preaches. The problem is that, ultimately, many of M.I.A.’s fans are so invested in her image and her politics, and she has commanded attention through these steadfast beliefs to become the preeminent voice of her generation. When such strong beliefs are counteracted through ‘revelations’ about one’s personal life, the public get pissed; if you’re not absolute in your advocation, you’ll be wiped out and taken down.


None of this would’ve mattered if MAYA was a brilliant album, but it wasn’t and it still isn’t one year on. M.I.A. isn’t the first international artist to put a foot wrong after such a successful early run, but most of those before her have to go through a process of endearing themselves to the public again by giving them what they want. If the hits keep coming then all is forgiven. M.I.A. is doing herself no favours and almost seems to be going in the opposite direction as her political voice becomes stronger with each release. For all the focus on her ideals, just as much attention has been lavished on the progressive sound of M.I.A.’s music over the last half-decade. MAYA drafts in new collaborators whilst retaining the edge of Kala through continued collaboration with Diplo and Switch, but it’s not quite the same. Kala was always fresh, versatile and most importantly, warm. Everything slotted into place so easily and felt incredibly organic. MAYA is a mess by contrast, attempting to fuse genres and introduce elements of lo-fi and noise pop. After a year it sounds somewhat more complete, but this is mostly due to a familiarity that has resulted through an unusually high volume of repeated listens on my part to discover the gold I thought I was initially missing.


Teqkilla is a prime example of a track begging to be produced into something more solid, and half the length to boot. The same can be said for Lovalot, lyrically brilliant but musically scattershot. It retains a sense of dead space trawling beneath it; mistaken ‘atmosphere’ for lazy production, ditto Story To Be Told. Many of the songs here sound like demos waiting to be filled out. Lead single XXXO relies desperately on its chorus refrain but ultimately collapses under the clutter of its verses. Contrast this with the frenetic energy of Boyz or those pounding foundations of BirdFlu and it’s not hard to see where she’s gone wrong. The mid-section of MAYA falls flat. It Takes A Muscle and It Iz What It Iz sound almost circus-like and rely on comedic and kooky production for effect, ending abruptly and without much resolution. Born Free and Meds And Feds bring things back on track a little, the former an interesting foray into rockier, harder territory. The latter deploys Sleigh Bells’ Treats, building a wall of noise that aggresively demolishes any sort of melody in favour of sheer brawl. Tell Me Why tries to recapture the unexpected triumph of Paper Planes (which will probably remain her biggest hit) but fails on the basis that M.I.A.’s singing voice is just not that good. Suddenly Bamboo Banga seems too far gone.


Thematically, MAYA is concerned with government conspiracies, the paranoia that the we’re all “connected to the Google, connected to the government.” It works in theory, but to begin your record with such an unfounded overture just appears silly. Steppin Up is the only moment on this record where things come together to feel convincing enough to fit her new style. In retrospect, MAYA isn’t a total failure. There are a few interesting things going on with the beats here, but it’s all too clear after one year that this record just doesn’t hold up to her previous glories. The problem is not so much the production (because in truth it’s not that dissimilar to that of Arular and Kala), but the sheer lack of melodies and memorable hooks. Couple this with her even ballsier attitude and suddenly M.I.A. becomes a less appealing figure through which to enjoy her music on anything more than a base level. Something quite profound happened between the release of Kala and MAYA. It was called Paper Planes, and despite its huge crossover success, one has to wonder if the fame and lifestyle that came with it became the basis for the haphazard clutter that is this record. Since it’s not surprising that M.I.A. would throw a spanner into the works at this point in her career, it also seems likely that she will rebound to release something truly great in the future. Let’s hope it’s sooner rather than later.