Seeing an artist in concert when she only has one album to her name is always a risk, even when she's damn good. Why? One word: filler. You'd be hard-pressed to find a popular musician who doesn't pad his or her albums with bland toss-offs, and the sin of filler is easy to forgive when all you have to do is skip the offending tracks on your iPod. Thankfully, Santigold's music evades the first-album curse primarily because she understands the beauty of versatility.
Born and raised in Philadelphia, Santi White attended Wesleyan University and worked in the music industry as a talent scout, a producer, and a songwriter for artists including the illustrious Ashlee Simpson. She's no sellout pop whore, however — before going solo she was the lead singer of a punk band. Santigold doesn't shy away from contradictions, and it's apparent on her 2008 debut Santogold. If the name Santigold made you do a double-take, you're not going senile — she changed her pseudonym from Santogold to Santigold after her original namesake, a jeweler known for his bizarre infomercial, slapped a lawsuit on her.
Buzz track "Creator" almost got Santigold pegged as an M.I.A. wannabe in the early stages of her career (and, to be honest, her voice does kinda sound Sri Lankan on this one), but its jagged, glitchy beats and confident flow put it on par with M.I.A.'s best work. Plus, Santigold is significantly less likely to pepper her Spring Weekend performance with random earsplitting gunshots. Some time after "Creator" became popular, another one of Santogold's songs achieved notoriety in a commercial for Bud Light with Lime. This track, "Lights Out," is toned-down, laid-back, and smooth as hell, the polar opposite of hot, haughty "Creator." It makes you want to guzzle mediocre lime-flavored beer as fast as your digestive system can handle it.
"I'm A Lady" is another track that's chilled-out and straightforwardly pop. White has a very endearing voice that easily switches from belting to murmuring and from disdain to sincerity. Her most successful song, "L.E.S. Artistes," showcases her vocals with a soaring, yelping chorus and moments of quiet beauty near the end. At various points in the song, White delves into insecurity, calls out hipster d-bags, and yearns for "change, change, change." It all comes together because of the song's unshakable pop foundations, which consistently carry the album. There's an obvious ‘80s pop influence here, but it's executed in a way that's refreshing, not cheesy. These songs sound at home in the 21st century, but they don't shy away from the glorious hooks and prominent, quirky beats that the ‘80s were known for. First and foremost, Santigold's music is fun, another reason why she won't bore you to tears during her set.
Santogold is what a pop album should be — it's wholly original, but fully embraces the conventions that make great pop songs a sugar rush. Whether they're reminiscent of Portishead or No Doubt or Blondie, Santigold's songs always sound more like Santigold than like any of her predecessors, which is impressive for an artist with so many clear influences. Immensely talented and incredibly promising, Santi White is guaranteed to put on a Spring Weekend show that's anything but boring.
