M.I.A. Assaults Terminal 5

And, let's just say, the tigress was definitely not missing in action.

By David Callicott

Click here for more photos of M.I.A at CMJ!



She’s got the bomb to make you blow, above.

Last week, we showed up to Terminal 5—the city’s newest concert hangar located two miles from the nearest subway on the west coast of mid-Manhattan—and found us a cozy zone on the second-level balcony. On stage, DJ Blaqstarr was spinning some Jay-Z; on the floor, a shoulder-to-shoulder crowd stood still. Amusing. It seems there’s some taboo against dancing unless the headliner is the one making the music.

Photography by Alexander Wagner

But there’s no taboo against heckling the DJ when his computer decides to take a nap, which is exactly what happened. Blaqstarr’s decks died, and the kids in the hall punished him. To stem the bleeding, the smiling Afrikan Boy came out to quiet down the din of disapproval with some standard-issue, but ironic, call-and-response: “Let me hear you make some noise!” (Just not the booing kind.) Then gunshots erupted. Luckily they were sampled blasts, signifying that the sound was back on and M.I.A. was in the house.

Looking like one of the Mary Jane Girls from a 1983 BET video, Miss Maya took the stage around 10, and the place went nuts. For the next 90 minutes or so, Terminal 5 got muggy and bumped to militia disco and techno funk. It was all the best of Arular and Kala, with some nice covers like the Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind” thrown in for good measure. The visa-challenged Sri-Anglo-Lankan Tiger shimmered in her sequins—“I’m wearing a dress, y’all better be appreciative!”—and spat her rebel rhymes, bringing the Tamil Third World to the Center of the Universe. Behind her, a wall of screens with home movies of tropical krumping and Atari-era graphics formed a schizo-delic backdrop, complementing the music perfectly. The whole scene was a sexy mêlée that reminded us of a neon Pollock brought to life. And without a doubt, it proved that M.I.A. is totally worth the hype.