Being a Fan of M.I.A. is Tough, but Loving MATA Isn’t

Graphic by Cate Banks

By Parker Bennett

Two days before the release of her sixth studio album, MATA, 47 year-old Sri Lankan rapper M.I.A. took to Twitter to share her thoughts on the recent court decision regarding alt-right figurehead Alex Jones: “If Alex Jones pays for lying shouldn’t every celebrity pushing vaccines pay too?” It’s definitely not the publicity most artists would want going into an album release, but M.I.A. has always been unabashed in what she deems unjust (BTW: COVID vaccines are not only just, they’re completely safe and should be taken by every single person that can get them). Controversy is nothing new for M.I.A, with even her earliest singles like “Sunshowers” being banned from MTV, simply due to lyrics referencing the Palestine Liberation Organization. The clear distinction, however, is that while M.I.A. used to exert her influence to speak up for people and issues outside of the scope of Western media, her power is now being used to align with alt-right talking points and dangerous misinformation.

It’s a disconcerting turn for one of the most exciting artists of the past two decades to take, because her early albums like Arular (2005) and Kala (2007) still hold up as some of the freshest and most inventive takes on pop and hip-hop that have been created. Unfortunately, it’s been six years since her last album—Aim—which was a relatively dull and somewhat forgettable overall product. Since then, fans have been teased with Instagram Live snippets and random collaborator confirmations, as well as scrapped release dates and nebulous tracklists. Finally, however, MATA is here, and while the album itself has received little to no fanfare on its release, it’s the most solid front-to-back work she’s released in a long time.

Across the board, MATA embodies rebellion. Nearly every track is a stylistic assault on pop, dance, and rap conventions, and a conceptual and lyrical attack on consumerism, media coverage, internet culture, and perceptions of M.I.A. and her ideals. With 13 tracks spread over just 33 minutes, everything  moves at breakneck speed, and nearly every sound M.I.A. has flirted with in the past two decades is present in some way. There’s the trunk-shaking rap anthems of Matangi (2013), the distinctly bhangra sing-a-longs of Kala (2007), and the aggressively defiant punk spirit of ΛΛ Λ Y Λ (2010) —and all of these styles are crafted into catchy, concise moments that feel like the perfect distillation of everything that has been the M.I.A. sound up until this point.

While MATA is certainly a noisy album, M.I.A. and her production team have clearly taken a tremendous amount of care to ensure that it isn’t a noise album. The tunes can be easily hummed, and M.I.A.’s iconic deadpan delivery encourages the listener to hop in and chant the lyrics along with her. Take the album’s opener for example: the two-part epic “F.I.A.S.O.M.” (Freedom is a State of Mind, pronounced “fearsome”) which explodes to life with siren-like synths and stadium-filling drum lines, all accented by random sword scrapes and a variety of gun sounds. It’s a lot. But as suddenly as it started, everything drops out except the distant singing of an indistinguishable chorus; now the solo occupants of a track that just seconds ago had every sound known to man. Then, it’s back into the madness with new-comer Priya Ragu’s throat-scraping bellows on the song’s second part. In the hands of anyone less competent, a collage this diverse would be a neck-breaking series of unenjoyable whiplashes, but M.I.A. is such a veteran at constructing noise-pop bangers that nothing feels unwarranted or out of place.

Single “Beep” is a definite high-point on the tracklist, providing one of the most club-ready anthems of the whole project. M.I.A.‘s lyrical ability is in top form on this joint as well, with her singing “Every time I see you, well, I’m gonna break through it” so smoothly that the riotous aggression of the song might just just go over your head. It’s a song that doubles down on the things M.I.A. has always stood for in her career: activism, independence, and artistic liberation, and serves as a hip-shaking affirmation for all the listeners who share the same kind of sentiment.

Track after track, MATA oozes energy, passion, and indelible creativity. “Popular”, the lead single for the album, still manages to be one of—if not the—best songs. It’s an incredible jam that blends tight production with classic M.I.A. chant-rap, and makes for a track that needs to be replayed the second it finishes. There’s “Energy Freq”, a stylistic sequel to 2016’s “Bird Song” (unconfirmed, but the resemblance is uncanny), which transforms a pitched-up, traditional Tamil sample into a swinging anthem calling for good vibes and embracing good energy.“Got the party swinging like a nun-chuck” is a Top 10 lyric of 2022, no doubt. “Zoo Girl” is a drum-heavy banger that positions M.I.A. as starting a revolution in the “jungle”, a term she’s used in the past to describe the masses of people that exist outside the scope of Western and corporate media. “Puththi” is one of the most dance-able highlights, with both M.I.A. and uncredited feature Navz-47 rapping in almost entirely Tamil. 

Even in the sea of speaker-breaking bangers, there’s still a solid list of relatively mellow moments. “100% Sustainable” is one of these respites, and also happens to be one of the most left-field and joyfully unique moments of the album. The song consists of M.I.A. quietly rapping over what sounds like a raw recording of a school choir, clapping rhythms and singing in Tamil. It’s an abrupt but welcome left-turn, and the raw, almost documentarian quality of the recording certainly fits with what she later dubs “100% organic… no pestibeats.” “The One” is another more lowkey effort,  as M.I.A. takes on a traditional melodic trap song. The beat is spacey and somewhat melancholy, and M.I.A.’s vocals are drenched in reverb as she sings some of the catchiest melodies on the album. It all comes to a close on another one of these less-frenetic moments, with “Marigolds” showcasing a languid, guitar-driven ballad that begs for divine intervention in the myriad of earth-threatening crises that our planet is facing. 

By the time it’s over, MATA feels like a return-to-form for M.I.A. that’s comfortable treading new ground. Still, it’s hard to not feel like something’s off. While her music still embodies the sonic and conceptual rule breaking she’s always stood for, the real world actions behind the scenes ring hollow. It’s a hard thing to watch, seeing an artist who was once at the forefront of battling misrepresentation and misinformation become a purveyor of those very same things. MATA is great, but it’s hard to shake the feeling that some part of the M.I.A. magic might be lost. Luckily, the album features several up and coming Tamil voices in the list of collaborators, like the aforementioned Priya Ragu and Navz-47. If their performances here are anything to go off, it sounds like these artists have what it takes to carry the torch of what M.I.A. once represented, and to usher in the same revolutions she once did for a newer, angrier generation.