Amanda’s Best of the Decade #4

#4
Paper Planes – M.I.A.
Album: Kala
Year: 2007
I was somewhat surprised to find M.I.A.’s gangsta/dance/rap(??) anthem – I guess anthem is the operative word here – so high on the countdown.  I know, I know, I organized it but I have never felt much of a relationship with M.I.A. as an artist.   I had an adverse reaction somewhat akin to revulsion to my first listen of Arular (choppy, rap-like, with loads of phase changes?  What do you mean you didn’t like it, Amanda?  That’s so your thing.  Ha.)  and so I had been consciously ignoring her and the hype surrounding the release of her second album, Kala.  So it is with some embarrassment that I confess I first heard “Paper Planes” when it was featured in the Pineapple Express trailer.  I was sitting there, vaguely uninterested in this movie trailer and suddenly that beat dropped and I ran – yes, ran – to my computer to find the name of the song.  I discovered, chastened, that it was M.I.A. and proceeded to listen to it on repeat for the next two weeks.  I was so psyched on this song I would tell people about it during telephone catch-ups and at dinner parties: “So, I know I’m the last person to this party but…”  And so on.  But despite this excitement, I was still a little shocked by how high it had climbed in my esteem.  Number four?  By an artist I for whom my feelings were lukewarm at best?  Because when it really comes down to it, I have no emotional connection to “Paper Planes” whatsoever.  Nothing significant has happened to me while listening to this song, it didn’t capture my imagination in the way that other songs on this list have done (see: “Armistice,” “Parentheses,” or most recently, “Come Pick Me Up”), it doesn’t even inspire any particular feelings.  And then I realized, the real magic of this song:

It is the consummate single.

The single most perfect standalone track of the last ten years.  Not that Kala is a bad album, or that you don’t appreciate Maya Arulpragasm more as an artist for knowing the rudimentary facts of contemporary Sri Lankan politics, or that it’s not infinitely more badass when you know that she’s been denied visas to perform in this country for speculated terrorist leanings.  These things enhance its value from a more panoramic standpoint.  But within the vacuum, within its three-and-a-quarter minute space, “Paper Planes” needs nothing more than its brutal lyrics, its brilliantly chosen samples and references, its flip use of sound effects and its sheer infectiousness to be great.  And you don’t need a story or a promise to love it.  You just need ears.