Artist: M.I.A.
Production: Blaqstarr, Rusko, Switch, Sugu Arulpragasam, John Hill, Diplo, Derek E. Miller, M.I.A.
Label: N.E.E.T., XL, Interscope
❝ Songwriting and production for the album were primarily handled by M.I.A., Blaqstarr and Rusko. M.I.A.'s long-time associates Diplo, Switch and her brother Sugu Arulpragasam also worked on the album, which was mainly composed and recorded at M.I.A.'s house in Los Angeles. The album's tracks centre on the theme of information politics and are intended to evoke what M.I.A. called a "digital ruckus"; with the album, elements of industrial music were incorporated into M.I.A.'s sound for the first time. A deluxe edition was released simultaneously, featuring four bonus tracks.
Critics' opinions of the album were generally favourable although divided, with both its musical style and lyrical content each attracting praise and criticism. (...) M.I.A. promoted the album by releasing a series of tracks online, including "XXXO", "It Takes a Muscle" and "Born Free", the latter of which was accompanied by a short film-music video, which generated controversy due to its graphic imagery. ❞ — wikipedia
❝ The art for this booklet was also done by M.I.A and long before she herself wrote the lyrics for the album. Kylie Anderson, who works at MTV described the artwork as 'typically choppy, traveling, disorienting work of art' (...) ❞ — encartespop
YIPPEE!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!
i have a drawing ive been working on for weeks, its not really a new year celebration sorta type drawing but i pushed myself to finish it before new years, so you guys can have it.
also the drawing, oddly enough, started off as a little shitpost, but then i decided that it was too low quality so i needed to redraw it. so you know what i did? i redrew it. and it took WAYYYYY too long.
redraw of one of my most favorite albums (how to be a human being by glass animals) with mythos characters :3 (monty, eunice and cthonaut c designs by @/sternevogn ^_^)
For all of us who have tossed and turned and decided to keep the lanterns lit and go searching – hoping that just maybe, when the clock strikes twelve … we’ll meet ourselves.