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Against my better judgement, I am reviewing the latest “album” from British-Sri Lankan activist and musician turned religious zealot M.I.A. I stayed away from Kanye and the ‘Bully’ rollout, as his unabashed Nazism over the last few years is perhaps the most egregious abandonment of any sort of moral standing from a popular artist in recent memory. Not that M.I.A is necessarily in the exact same boat, but her recent approval of fuckwits like Alex Jones is enough to raise an eyebrow, and question her mindset in the here and now. An apparent born-again Christian, she’s gone the route that every other mentally ill public figure does when they run into the metaphorical brick wall, and find themselves in a bout of ill-repute with the public. Embrace God, hide behind its theoretical grace, and avoid having to take proper accountability for your real-life actions and words. It’s pretty obvious to me, and to anyone else who isn’t delusional that M.I.A has, for lack of a better phrase, lost her fucking mind.
She has deemed herself fit enough to construct what sounds like a concept album, complete with a set of arbitrary “trumpet” interludes that are also clarified within the tracks themselves; as if we didn’t already know what was painfully obvious. These are *meant* to connect the record’s godly themes, but of course, M.I.A wants to be special and different. Unlike the best concept albums of music’s whole canon, this album seems categorically inept at actually organising itself into much of anything at all. What fills in the gaps between these interludes is a barrage of mindless platitudes about accepting God, loving God, needing God, God delivering us all. I’m surprised we didn’t get an extended cut of M.I.A moaning and cheek clapping for God too. It would be the least ridiculous thing to occur in this tracklist. Better than that hypothetical, what we actually get to close out this neuron-dissolving shitshow is a whole THIRTY-THREE MINUTES of COMPLETE SILENCE. M.I.A would like to think this serves as a time of reflection for what the listener has heard throughout their journey of necessary enlightenment. What it actually ends up being is a time to sit, stare at the wall, and contemplate the very tempting option of ending it all.
This woman made “Paper Planes”, she made ‘Arular’ and ‘MAYA’. Ridiculously forward-thinking hip hop, glitch, industrial, electronic, funk brasileiro and dancehall. What she’s essentially morphed into with this disingenuous pile of sanctimonious garbage is the equivalent of a really shitty Instagram reels musician. You could feature any of these tracks on @catatonic_youths’ Instagram page, and I would be none the wiser as to who it was. I think a visit to the psych ward is in order for this shell of a human being. Anything short of bussing her in immediately shall be seen as endangerment. Not just to herself, but to my and everyone else’s eardrums and sanity. If y’all don’t mind, I’m gonna go and listen to Corey Feldman’s ‘Angelic 2 the Core’ to unwind.
Dan Will Review 