there's been an internal debate about santogold for me. i came across the gold-laden mistress from a very brief and very vague review describing her as the new m.i.a. i thought that to be a very tall stature to live up to, given that maya has an original sound that's easy to mimic but hard replicate, at least in terms of energy and sincerity.

and with this chipped shoulder, i tossed back the golden pill and shrugged my shoulders. the first tune, l.e.s artistes, was just so-so on the first spin—afterall, being bitter towards super-skinny, pseudo-original hipsters used to be a routine, anger-management issue for me a couple years ago. i didn't think the song was bad, though. just not impressive. a few songs later, the album continued down this sort of half-hazardous route of becoming the next dust-collecting piece of plastic on my shelf until i hit the tune, appropriately entitled, say aha.

by this time, actual listening had transpired into background noise, but this song had me (unintentionally) singing along—well, maybe more like humming along a loose melody like a young child does with a commerical—afterall, this was the first time i ever heard this song. but this made me pause, and i realized there was something of more substance than i initially thought here. even now, i still find myself unexpectedly singing in harmony on say aha, even though it's not particularly a favorite song on this album. there's suspect of a higher conspiracy with hidden messaging or the sort, but that's for another mog, another day.

with this newfound openness, i felt the cynicism of the world slowly melting away and allowed myself to absorb the lyrical rapping of this philadelphia-raised-but-now-living-in-brooklyn musician. and when the song creator hit, i was fully listening. of course, it's almost impossible to ignore the powerful, gritty beats (very Freq Nasty [thanks decon]) as santi white belts out repetitively:

Me, I'm a creator
Thrill is to make it up
The rules I break got me a place
Up on the radar
Me, I'm a taker
Know what the stakes are
Can't roll it back, it's understood
Got to play our cards

this girl—i mean lady—has kick. and grab. songs like lights out and i'm a lady address the softer side of santi, successfully exploring outside the typical electronic/rap/reggae genre that i was naturally inclined to place her in (my bad, santi). not to mention that she can actually sing (though she may choose not to on every track). check out her free ballard (along with other tunes) called your voice on RCRD LBL.

this vaudeville act is not unusual, especially considering what a little wiki told me about her earlier days as the lead singer of a punk rock band and her friendly associations with m.i.a. (i wouldn't be surprised if she was the dancing skinny onstage with maya last year at terminal 5). she's an interesting character to watch, and i hope what i see is not a fabrication of different, just for the sake of being different, but a true manifestation of an artist. as i've listened to her album over the past few weeks, i feel like i've grown to be a part of santogold (and those bud light commercials are not what i'm referring to). i want to hold onto the experience of releasing cynicism back into its place—a place not within myself.

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brittanybf says:

gijibae, i love this: afterall, being bitter towards super-skinny, pseudo-original hipsters used to be a routine, anger-management issue for me a couple years ago.

(because i can relate to feeling that bitterness!)

i've been digging her lately and i too hope she's capable of upholding a title like, "true manifestation of an artist."

Posted 3 months ago | Delete

gijibae03 says:

brit: i'm not surprised—you feel like the real thing. :)

Posted 3 months ago | Delete

brittanybf says:

thanks, you're so nice! i'm glad i come across that way even through the interweb-o-sphere. you're a cool chick in my book!

Posted 3 months ago | Delete