Santigold - The Keepers

Alyssa Rosenberg offers this critique:

It’s a house where impeccably coifed, white-blonde people eat food that glows with poison. When shooters in a car shred the walls, they momentarily startle, then check their hair and make sure their clothes are in place, and sit back down to dinner. And when their milkman’s caught in the crossfire, they make a spectacle of his death without considering the risk outside. The house build by racism is burning down around them and they don’t even notice. [snip] It seems it takes someone like Santigold to do the job properly, to reveal the obscenity of moving through your swish, stylish life ignorant of the fundamental inequalities you benefit from, and unprepared to adapt to a world without them.