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May 08, 2008 06:50 pm
Editor's notes: No photos
Mining Santogold’s debut for catchy pop songs
Jeremiah finds nuggets of value in Santogold's album "Bittersweet World."
By Jeremiah Tucker
CNHI News Service
JOPLIN, Mo. — Santogold is a Philadelphia artist who was born with the name Santi White. She’s worked in the record business as a talent scout and a songwriter. She was in the ska-punk band Stiffed, which I’ve never heard of, and according to her Wikipedia page, she studied Caribbean and West African drumming at Wesleyan University. Last year she was on producer Mark Ronson’s covers album “Versions” singing lead on a cover of The Jam’s “Pretty Green.”
But Santogold achieved her highest profile because of a single called “Creator” that was widely circulated last year after she released it on her MySpace page. It’s a devastatingly good song. The song begins with isolated, cavernous third-world percussion. Santogold ululates some strange mating call for a species of animal no one has heard of, and the percussion continues to grow in intensity and volume as, I believe, a brigade of Imperial Storm Troopers begin firing laser guns. Then Santogold begins to rap: “Tell me no, I say yes, I was chosen, and I will deliver the explosion.” Given the global-urban noise detonating in a wave of mushroom clouds beneath her lyrics, her boast is believable.
“Creator” immediately invited comparisons to M.I.A., which isn’t inaccurate considering the Sri Lankan-by-way-of-London hip-hop star and Santogold share the producers Diplo and Switch. And like any single worth its weight in ad revenue, a snippet of “Creator” can be heard in a Bud Light: Lime commercial. Unfortunately, Santogold’s new self-titled album doesn’t deliver anything as thrilling as “Creator,” which is track five, even thought the “You’ll Find a Way” remix at the end of the album comes close.
Instead, “Lights Out” proves White can write a delicious pop song. The song is catchy with a sugary, light touch that reminds me of the indie-pop band That Dog, or maybe just the mid ‘90s in general when there were so many good bands with women as lead singers. Similarly, the warm, fuzzy bass in “I’m a Lady” reminded me so much of Kim Deal I had to double check and make sure I wasn’t listening to the Breeders. Had White made a guitar pop album, it might’ve been great.
If White had made an album full of songs like her second single “L.E.S. Artistes,” a song with a compact intensity reminiscent of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, that, too, could’ve been a great album. But while White is undeniably talented and possesses a fierce personality, this isn’t enough to hold my attention through all her shifts in style. I especially begin to drift off during the few excursions into ska and some of the mid-tempo songs.
In addition to her own self-titled debut, White had some of her songwriting appear on Ashlee Simpson’s “Bittersweet World.” White co-wrote two songs for the younger Simpson sister — first single “Outta My Head (Ay Ya Ya)” and “Ragdoll.” Frankly, I’m surprised Simpson was able to get such top-tier talent after her lip-synching snafu on “Saturday Night Live” a few years ago. But in addition to Santogold, she also has Timbaland and Chad Hugo, one half of the Neptunes, as producers. These are the same guys who worked on the new Madonna album.
“Bittersweet World,” while I wouldn’t necessarily recommend rushing out and buying it, is definitely enjoyable. “Boys,” the second song, sounds a lot like the Cardigans, which reminded how much I like the Cardigans. “Rule Breaker” is stupid in the best way. Built around a “Beat It”-era Michael Jackson guitar riff, it’s all about wearing hoodies and getting in people’s faces with her boyfriend Pete Wentz.
Actually, the danceable, staccato “Beat It” guitar is a big staple on the album, which gives you a pretty good idea of what you’re getting — crunchy, slick pop songs. Aside from a predictable ballad, only the Broadway-baiting “Murder,” Simpson’s bid to remind people she was in “Chicago,” is the only real style deviation. And even then, after the guest rapper tosses in a verse, it begins to sound like everything else.
After awhile, the glossy, catchy pop songs begin to bleed into one another, and the emptiness gets a little grating. Simpson’s voice is breathy and passable, but it’s not much of a main attraction. Nor is she interesting or dominant enough to sustain an entire album, no matter who’s serving her the hits, but I will probably cherry pick a few songs from “Bittersweet World” for summer mixes.
“Santogold” I’ll probably be mining for the rest of the year.
Jeremiah Tucker writes for The Joplin (Mo.) Globe.
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