M.I.A. is probably the only artist on the planet who can get away with using the phrase “rub-a-dubby-dubby-dub” as a chorus. But the quirky moments of lyrical nonsense that pervade this year’s MAYA aren’t just there to fuck with your brain. Most people aren’t going notice the smart stuff cleverly packaged in the pulsing club jams we’ve grown accustomed to hearing from M.I.A., though, and that’s the point. There’s a clear theme here, and it begins with album opener “The Message,” a track of someone (ostensibly M.I.A.) typing. We don’t know what she’s saying, but as the album progresses the point becomes clear enough: In 2010, there are a lot of ways to send a message, but nobody’s really saying anything. With Rye Rye. SARA BRICKNER

Sun., Oct. 17, 8 p.m., 2010