Santigold

Santogold is about to phunk yo' shit up, literally. On her self-titled debut, Miss Santi White, the record label rep turned punk-reggae-electro-goddess, throws convention out the window. Her smooth wail crescendos from a hip hop flow to a gravelly, punk rock growl. Amidst all of the genre mashing, Santogold remains quite classical in some ways. Take the hand-clapping and Beach Boys-style "ooh-ing" that float through "Shove It." Other places, like "Say Aha," she carries a tune like few of her peers can. From the reggae overtones to the electronic flourishes, there's a tangible tension at the heart of the record. After the tribal beat on "Creator," it feels like everything could fall apart at any second, but it never does. Santogold's way too good of an architect for that to happen. "Lights Out" is romantic pop for the blog-set with an electro boot and huge swooning chorus. She's crafted one of the most chaotic and, at the same time, structured debuts of 2008.

Yes, you can make M.I.A. comparisons until Justice goes out of style, but you know what? The only thing Santogold and Sri Lankan mistress have in common are a mutual love for genre mashing. Where M.I.A.'s stoned melodies take center stage over dance beats, Santogold sounds like tweaked-out sonic candy on "You'll Find A Way (Remix)," bridging the gap between creepy industrial and reggae, for all of us free thinkers. Also, Santogold's not necessarily political in any way. "L.E.S. Artistes" takes dead aim at New York's upper echelon of artist snobs with no real jobs, but someone had to do it.

Just like mixing punk, rap, dancehall and electronica; someone had to do it. She's that someone, an "Artiste" if you will.

—Rick Florino
05.01.08

Santogold, the collaboration between Santi White and former Stiffed bandmate John Hill, first began receiving notice in late 2007, thanks mostly to the release of the single "Creator," which seemed to point White in the direction of an M.I.A. knockoff. The debut full-length, however, shows Santogold to be a unique group, one that pulls equally from dub, pop-punk, hip-hop, electro, and rock without succumbing to the archetypes of any. Much of this is because of the contributions from Hill, who adds plenty of guitars and warm keyboards, encouraging White to fill out the songs, the verses, and the hooks, with her rich Gwen Stefani-meets-Janelle Monáe voice. "I'm a Lady," despite the fact it could belong in the late-'90s pop canon, is delightfully catchy and inviting; "L.E.S. Artistes" sounds like a fuller, brighter Tegan and Sara song; and "My Superman" is the urban 21st century's version of a sultry jazz standard. In fact, Hill is so instrumental in creating the diversity and lushness of sound that the pieces in which he doesn't contribute, or contributes very little, are markedly different. Switch, the producer responsible for M.I.A.'s Kala, shows off his impressive beat-making skills on "Creator," which features White doing the singsongy rap that has helped make Maya Arulpragasam so popular ("Me, I'm a creator, thrill is to make it up/The rules I break got me a place up on the radar"), and the Diplo-helmed "Unstoppable" marries dub and Hollertronix electronica nicely. These are the exceptions to the overall sound, however (and their very rarity makes them so much more appealing, and evidence of the work of a complete artist, not one trying to follow the coattails of another), because most of Santogold lacks that jagged angularity that drives M.I.A.'s records. Instead, the album is informed by pop and good humor, the importance of melody and structure never overshadowed by rhythm and dancefloor-worthiness. This is music that looks outward at the pan-continental landscape while staying firmly adherent to and respectful of its deeply American roots; it's the emerging -- and hopeful -- face of the new millennium, and an altogether shining accomplishment. ~ Marisa Brown, Rovi