M.I.A.: inside one rebel's insurgency against hip-hop's tired traditions

Mathangi "Maya" Arulpragasam, known professionally as M.I.A., was born 29 years ago in London but grew up partly in Sri Lanka during the country's ongoing civil war. Her father, Arul Pragasam, was deeply involved on the Tamil side of the conflict, and his activities meant that M.I.A., her mother, and her siblings had limited contact with him. In the late 1980s M.I.A. moved back to London, where she imbibed many of the hip-hop references that turn up in her stylistically varied music.

Before launching her music career, M.I.A. attended art school, and her exhibitions of paintings were attention-getting. M.I.A.'s debut album, the socially concerned Arular (XL/Interacope), was released in 2005 to great acclaim worldwide. Just as the singer-songwriter's new album, Kala (XL/Interscope), was being readied for release this year, M.I.A. was denied a visa to enter the United States to live. She hopes to re-return to the country later this year.

MATT DIEHL: Where are you?

M.I.A.: I'm in London. Even though I've moved to Brooklyn, pretty much this whole year I've spent outside the United States, traveling.

MD: You've been traveling partly because you had difficulty this year getting a visa to come back to the United States. Why?.

MIA: The formal reason was bureaucratic.

MD: God, it's like George Orwell. Or Kafka.

MIA: Yeah. All over again.

MD: Meanwhile, you will soon release a new album, Kala. Do you think it's better than your first one, Arular?

MIA: I put more blood and guts into it. I made it all on my own--I couldn't get back into the United States, so I started killing time working on it everywhere else.

MD: Just think: You could have been chilling with Timbaland [one of the album's producers] at his mansion In Virginia Beach [Virginia] instead. Pharrell would be coming in with a plate of martinis.

MIA: And I'd get to drive around in Hummers all day and get taken on yachts. But, no. That didn't happen.

MD: Your first album was named after your father and invoked his rebel warrior spirit. The new album is named after your mother and seems more feminine.

MIA: I think it is. Everyone can be in touch with both. It took time for me to realize that what my mum was doing when I was a kid was important.

MD: And what did your morn do?

MIA: Got a job at the supermarket and cooked food and fed the kids. Made sure we didn't get killed in a war. Brought us to a different country. I was always so angry she had kids. It was just such a messy situation. There was a point when my mum sold a knife and fork because she didn't have enough money to buy food.

MD: You almost resented them for bringing you into this world.

MIA: It's true. I felt that my mum was super strong, but she wasn't verbally strong. She never really taught us anything; we taught ourselves stuff.

MD: A mother can be a warrior in her own way, even if she's not holding a gun.

MIA: Definitely. You can be a person who affects thousands of people, or you can affect two people at home. That also counts. A lot of people used to come up to my mum and say, "Oh, what you're doing is great, but it's okay that dad's not here, because what he's doing is more important." But I don't want my mum to think that I also feel that way.

MD: Some of your time in India got translated into the new album. Did you do the song "Jimmy" there?

MIA: I recorded parts of it there, but I put it together in London.

MD: It was a hit in Sri Lanka.

MIA: Yeah, it was massive. The original version ("Jimmy Jimmy Jimmy Aaja"), years ago, was as popular as Michael Jackson's Thriller [1982]. It was from a movie called Disco Dancer [1982] about an Indian entertainer who is the greatest thing ever. And then the villain tries to electro-cute him with an electric guitar, and he loses the desire to sing and dance. "Jimmy" is the song that his girlfriend sings to ease him back into being a singer.

MD: Your version of the song "Jimmy" is on the new album. Did you relate to it when the song was released originally?

MIA: I don't know, because at that time--when I was a kid--things were tough.

MD: During the civil war in Sri Lanka involving the Tamil and the Sinhalese?

MIA: Yeah. During the war you couldn't shop for food at certain times. And there were curfews. People used to ask me to entertain at birthday parties. I used to go with my cardboard cutout of a guitar and do my dance routine to "Jimmy," to get the other kids dancing. That was my anthem.

MD: And they would pay you in food?

MIA: Yeah. I used to get biscuits and stuff like that--luxuries in Sri Lanka.

MD: But you've worked with some of the big commercial names, so in a way you're toying with the experimental-commercial divide.

MIA: I was really happy that this album was about so many different things. I'd go to Jamaica and fit into their art, and then to India and fit into their art. I realized there wasn't a distinction between high art and low art.

MD: I love the tapestry effect of the new record. Not even "Jimmy" is a straight Bollywood track--you played with the lyrics a little bit.