Category Archives: Music

The Madonna Timeline: Song #176 – ‘Joan of Arc’ ~ Winter 2016

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

It is literally impossible to be a woman. You are so beautiful, and so smart, and it kills me that you don’t think you’re good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we’re always doing it wrong.

You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can’t ask for money because that’s crass. You have to be a boss, but you can’t be mean. You have to lead, but you can’t squash other people’s ideas. You’re supposed to love being a mother, but don’t talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people.

You have to answer for men’s bad behavior, which is insane, but if you point that out, you’re accused of complaining. You’re supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you’re supposed to be a part of the sisterhood.

But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged. So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful.

You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line. It’s too hard! It’s too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault.

I’m just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. And if all of that is also true for a doll just representing a woman, then I don’t even know…

~ From ‘Barbie’, by Greta Gerwig

Each time they take a photographI lose a part I can’t get backI wanna hide, this is the part where I detach
Each time they write a hateful wordDragging my soul into the dirtI wanna dieI never admit it, but it hurts…

When I was going through my formative years, girls ran the world. At least, they ran my world.

My Mom was the real head of our home. Dad may have outwardly been the powerhouse disciplinarian, but my brother and I knew that the way to get something we wanted was to have Mom on our side. We also saw how she ran the house, and the finances, and our lives. We watched as she went to graduate school, worked her way into a career as a nursing professor, and somehow kept us all going. 

My friends from school – Suzie, Rachel, Lynn, Jill, Missy, Ann, Kate – were the people who inspired me. I wanted to be one of them. They held all the power and sway over what mattered to me. They were smart and funny and caring and kind, they knew how to put themselves together, and, to put it into the simplicity of my childhood mind, they were just cooler. Boys were clunky, awkward, and so much slower to develop. In later years they would appeal in a different way, but for grade school I much preferred the company of females. Before sexuality and forced gender assignations got in the way, my nature related more to women than to men. In the way I grew up viewing the world, women were the better sex in every way. 

The mothers I knew – Suzie’s Mom, Missy’s Mom, Ann’s Mom,  – were the powerful people who, in my head and likely in reality, ran their own families and households. Best of all, they would guide me at times when I needed intelligence, grace, and strength. 

The teachers I had – all women until seventh grade (aside from physical education) – were the people who gave me the greatest gift of all: knowledge and a thirst for learning. 

And my grandmother, whose birthday would have been today, was from a time and place where she couldn’t see her own power, or how much she influenced my young life. She saw herself as a quiet and shy person, who only came into her own when surrounded by familiar people and family, who counted on her husband, even in the many years after he was gone. (He died before I was even born, and yet her allegiance and deference to him was part of her regular narrative.) I only saw her steely grit and strength, the way she survived on her own for most of her adult life, and the way she wove glamorous stories of Greta Garbo alongside tales of Peter the Rabbit (which may explain more than I realized at the time). 

I don’t wanna talk about it right nowJust hold me while I cry my eyes outI’m not Joan of Arc, not yetBut I’m in the dark, yeah
I can’t be a superhero right nowEven hearts made out of steel can break downI’m not Joan of Arc, not yetI’m only human
Anything they did to me, said to meDoesn’t mean a thing, ’cause you’re here with me nowEven when the world turns its back on meThere could be a war but I’m not going down.

Along with all those women who ran my world, there was one singer who cast a spell on me in the way that everyone should so have a spell cast upon them in their formative years, and Madonna was that guiding force. While she was consistently being pilloried for her sexiness, her desire, her provocation, for her survival as a woman and for her domination as an artist – all I saw was her majesty and might, and the way she ruled the pop world throughout the decades in which I grew into an adult.

One little lie I can ruin my dayWords are like weapons, they betrayWhen I am afraid, one word of kindness it can save me
I don’t wanna talk about it right nowJust hold me while I cry my eyes outI’m not Joan of Arc, not yetBut I’m in the dark, yeah

I can’t be a superhero right nowEven hearts made out of steel can break downI’m not Joan of Arc, not yetI’m only human
Anything they did to me, said to meDoesn’t mean a thing, ’cause you’re here with me nowEven when the world turns its back on meThere could be a war but I’m not going down

In the skewed view of my youth – skewed only in the view of the rest of the world – my limited and somehow visionary idea of women as superior to men worked to instill an idea of equality in my head, particularly when the  underlying-yet-ever-prevalent patriarchy worked to skew things the other way. It was only after the first blush of innocent youth that the world began encroaching its sexist and misogynistic awfulness upon my mind, and as my friends and classmates fell into socially-prescribed gender roles, the safety and happiness I felt in my matriarchal existence was quickly threatened, and just as quickly extinguished. When it suddenly wasn’t safe to be a girl or a woman, then it certainly wasn’t safe to want to be like a girl or a woman. 

I didn’t see that then, I only felt the diminishing of joy – something I likely attributed to growing up and losing the exuberant innocence of youth. But from that removal of joy came a slow substitute of strength and power, something that many women have had to conjure simply from being a woman in a world still so hostile to equality. 

Being destructive isn’t braveThey couldn’t say it to my faceOne day I won’t careBut for the moment I’m not thereI’ll just close my eyes and let you catch me now

A gay man attempting to understand what it’s like to be a woman is as trifling and trivial as it can be noble and empowering, depending on how one goes about it. These days I approach such endeavors with wary humility, and a keen acknowledgment of all the limitations that my privilege and charmed life have bestowed upon my life and my viewpoint. I count myself extremely fortunate to have been raised by all the women who made my first view of the world one where women were in absolute control. That I still believe that to be true in so many ways is a would-be/should-be truth I will endeavor to bring into reality. 

It feels like we should be far beyond this by now, but then I see an out-of-touch, wrongfully-stacked Supreme Court defy the precedent of Roe V. Wade and strip women of their bodily autonomy… I see a misogynistic felon running for President and getting support from a disappointing number of people… I see a doubling-down of sexism and the desperation of a dying patriarchy… and I wonder how my female friends and family feel at such a time. 
I don’t wanna talk about it right nowJust hold me while I cry my eyes outI’m not Joan of Arc, not yetBut I’m in the dark, oh yeah

More than that, I wonder how they feel at those moments when the world demands they be the women we think they should be, when the weight of being a woman is piled upon all their other roles as wives, mothers, professors, nurses, directors, aunts, sisters, and friends. I wonder how they do it, and in making me wonder that they open my heart to things I need to learn. Women still run my world.

I can’t be a superhero right nowEven hearts made out of steel can break downI’m not Joan of Arc, not yetI’m only human
Anything they did to me, said to meDoesn’t mean a thing, ’cause you’re here with me nowEven when the world turns its back on meThere could be a war but I’m not going down

My mother’s mother, Marion Louise Mitchell, born on this day, March 13, in the year 1911, in the little town of Hoosick Falls, remains a guiding spirit in my life. To most who knew her in my lifetime, she was a quiet and docile grandmother, a somewhat anxious worrier who relied on her rosary beads and bible to see her through the nights. But that’s not entirely the woman I knew and loved. In addition to the unshakeable faith she exhibited, she was one of the first people to show me the power of a story – in the tales she would share with me and my brother as we snuggled into the twin bed that she had in the guest room of my childhood home – the same bed that my Mom slept in as a child. More than that, she shared stories of working in the arsenal during the war, stories of a childhood with four siblings, stories of nights out when she would dress up and dazzle, smoking a cigarette for effect even when she didn’t smoke the rest of the time. She embodied another lifetime – and another life of which we merely heard echoes – and in that world she raised the woman who would become my mother. 

Whenever I listen to this song, I think of my Gram, and all the women in my life, and I am grateful for them. 

Anything they did to me, said to me… Doesn’t mean a thing, ’cause you’re here with me nowEven when the world turns its back on meThere could be a war but I’m not Joan of Arc

Song #176 – ‘Joan Of Arc’ ~ Winter 2016

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The Light of Aural Heaven

Last year Madonna’s ‘Ray of Light’ album turned 25 and we celebrated its silver anniversary within this post. On this day, I am scheduled to find myself departing Boston from a weekend there, which is where my ‘Ray of Light’ experience originally took place. The world occasionally circles back in such reassuring fashion, though that night grow ever dimmer with each passing year, if I think about it hard enough, and pace myself there again, I can rekindle the faded magic of that time in my life. 

Mostly, it was a time of solitude, and for me that’s where the majority of my growth and resolve as a human being began. When you’re alone, you have to deal with the inner-voice, alternately heckling and pushing, degrading and supporting, celebrating and criticizing – and learning how to control and live with that before getting entangled with a romantic partner. It is, I still believe, one of the best ways of beginning a relationship, and I watched as I and many of my friends thought that finding a partner was the best way of finding ourselves, only to have it fizzle out because we didn’t even know who we were then. 

‘Ray of Light’ was setting the stage for my adult relationships, even if I felt entirely out of control and disastrously lost when it came to romance. Madonna’s lyrics, and the accompanying majesty of the ambient groove that opened the album (in the exquisite ‘Drowned World/Substitute for Love‘, which remains my favorite Madonna song) and drifted into more worldly concerns such as in ‘Swim‘ and the epic wonder of that thumping title track, resonated in ways that felt more personal than any of her albums prior or since. 

I traveled many miles listening to ‘Sky Fits Heaven‘, seeking and searching for a destination that looked like peace and tranquility, and never finding anything remotely close. I drove south with a boyfriend as ‘Nothing Really Matters‘ was released, desperately aiming to mold myself into a creature made full and complete by a command and understanding of love, only to lose him in a winter that ended up rivaling the lonely winter in which I first heard ‘Frozen‘. (In some ways it only made sense, as I met him when ‘The Power of Goodbye‘ was being released.) The more I learned, the less I knew, and I was too deep in it to see the overreaching arc of any progress or discovery I might be making. Whenever I got lost, ‘Ray of Light’ was the musical journey that set me back on the right path.

To this day, the music brings me back, as much as it brings me forward – a testament to the enduring power and legacy of this album – still the best in Madonna’s vast catalog and at this point unlikely to ever be topped. Music, when it is heard at the crux of winter and spring, on those warmer nights when the earth seems to be awakening again, and all sorts of possibility and hope ride on the Western wind, strikes at the heart, and renders me breathless. With ‘Ray of Light’, Madonna proved that she still knew how to cast a potent spell. 

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Stellar Still Remains

Last night we went back a couple of decades and I finally felt like the teenager I never quite allowed myself to be. Suzie and I made a surprise appearance for my brother’s birthday at the Still Remains show, and we finally got to see his band play after this all-too-brief visit the last time they had a performance. It is with great relief that I don’t have to write a barely-veiled snarky review because it was a genuinely enjoyable show, and it reminded me of how on our very best nights it is music that can still bring people together, inspiring some joy and euphoria in these dark times. 

Billed as Amsterdam’s only alternative/grunge band, Still Remains performed a solid collection of 90’s covers and an original song or two that fit right into those celebrated melodies. From the timeless vibes of Jesus Jones’s ‘Right Here, Right Now’ through a magnificent mash-up that found The Who’s ‘Teenage Wasteland’ morphing into the brilliant ending of Guns N’ Roses’ ‘November Rain’, it was a cohesive show that bridged multiple decades and somehow felt entirely of the moment. 

It was also a night on which the full moon was in full effect, and in the face of a fire alarm, microphone mishap, and the usual bar-room ruckus of a live venue, Still Remains put on a stellar show. It may have taken at least three starts, but when the driving might of The Cranberries and their classic ‘Dreams’ finally took off, April Payan’s vocals soared, while Rancid’s ‘Ruby Soho’ was a crowd-pleasing anthem, full moon be damned. Throughout the two-part set, the band reminded an adoring audience of friends and family of some indelible 90’s gems, dragging them into modern-day relevance, such as in the primal, visceral ferocity of Alanis Morrisette’s ‘You Oughta Know’ and the barn-burning finale of Nirvana’s ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’. They even managed to remake Madonna’s ‘Open Your Heart’ into a grittier demand for love courtesy of Payan’s vocals; Suzie said the great thing about that was that it managed to be very Madonna while still being very true to Still Remains. 

Front-man Joe Leone mentioned how old some of these songs were, calling out his own age and returning to this theme several times during the evening – a topic echoed by references to my brother’s impending birthday the next day, and the remnants of nostalgia that some of the music rekindled in my own mind. It was a timely – and timeless – reminder of how great songs, and great bands, defy the passing of time, existing to bring together all ages and all sorts of people in the name of music, our greatest artistic unifier. 

{Still Remains is made up of Joe Leone on guitars and vocals, Paul Ilagan on guitar and turntables, Jay Tatlock on bass, Dave Gahr on drums and April Payan on vocals. For more on the band, including future performances, check out their website here and FaceBook page here.}

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Like a Vagabond

Marianne Faithfull’s exquisite album ‘Vagabond Ways’ carries a few musical gems, including my favorite ‘Marathon Kiss’ – and this moodier entry, ‘File It Under Fun From the Past’. As our recent bout of nostalgia proves, fun may be found in the past, so long as you don’t dwell there very long. This song isn’t all fun and games, but it has an element of acerbic reminiscence to it, a glance back to buy us some time. 

Do you remember me,Do you remember anything?Don’t pretend I didn’t make you laughFile it under fun from the past
Well, I’m looking ’round the roomSome of the people I’ve lovedGuess I remember everythingFile it under fun from the past

I could have been a contender, a contender for your loveI would have given you everything if I only knew howI would have given you everything if I only knew how, only knew howI could have been a contender, a contender for your loveFile it under fun from the pastFile it under fun from the past
It was only you, it was always only youI never saw what other people boughtI never cared what they thoughtWell, I’m looking ’round the room, some of the people I’ve lovedGuess I remember everythingFile it under fun from the past

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Frozen Hot Desert

Initially given a gorgeously-icy treatment, Madonna’s ‘Frozen’ majestically led the mystical charge of her greatest album to date, ‘Ray of Light’. it came with a number of wildly-varied remixes, the sleeper of which was this Stereo MC’s version, which accentuates its Moroccan desert vibe in the best way. It puts me in the mind of a night journey, the way I used to travel in my younger years, when I’d easily stay awake to three o’clock and be happily chugging away on the Thruway. 

Strangely, or fittingly… because I can’t quite see the forest through the trees yet… the notion of driving and traveling is stirring in my mind. More than the usual winter restlessness, it speaks to something else, something greater at work – a healing, a grieving, a running… away from or toward something, I can’t be sure. 

Isn’t everyone just traveling down their own road…

A mysterious post perhaps, inspired by the mystics and going back centuries, and if it’s one of the last in this incarnation of the website, so shall it be. (I’ve received word that the hosting platform for this place will be updated and my antiquated version of WordPress may not work after February 20, so if it goes away for a bit or forever, you’ll understand why.) Frozen in time, frozen in space, frozen in place…

The thawing of a heart is a curious thing…

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A Valentine Hodge-Podge

Am I the only person who enjoyed Valentine’s Day more as a kid than as an adult? Don’t get me wrong, my husband is always lovely enough to gift me with some exquisite item I’ve oh-so-subtly-hinted-at, and I always take him out for a V-Day dinner (never on this date, but a day or two afterward, because who in their right mind messes around with reservations and questionable service/value on February 14?) But for the rest of it – the candy and flowers and in-store hype – I always think back to when it all meant a little more.

Strangely enough, Valentine’s Day was never about romantic love for me – it was about love in general. For a child growing up, that’s the only sort of love I understood or felt. Rather than pining for a love interest, I poured my heart into crafting Valentine cards for my friends and family. The thrill of the day was in watching my classmates open up their bags of cards, and opening the ones they had given to me. While we all exchanged cards (even if we hated the person they went to) there were some that were more dear to me, especially when someone I liked, or tolerated, turned out to write something touching in a few short words. It was always more moving when it came from someone I would never suspect of such kindness; we expect worship and adoration from our dearest friends – it’s the unexpected show of love that pulls most insistently at the heart

As for romance – or Romance with the capital ‘R’ because we add such unearned Reverence to the concept – I couldn’t quite grasp it when I was a kid. On an episode of ‘Family Ties’ they put this heartsick ballad on, and I felt the first hints of the longing and heartache that love could elicit. This song tore up the radio shortly thereafter, and I’d listen to it late at night, wondering at what it all meant. 

Meanwhile, I focused on the superficial trappings of the season – all the pinks and reds and fuchsias, all the stuffed animals and cuddly promises of LOVE…

One year I begged my Mom to let me get some fabric and decorations to make a stuffed heart. Using a silky chiffon in the brightest red, I sewed it all up by hand – a typical red heart, which I then bordered with a thin ribbon of purple velvet ribbon – all softness and sensory delight – before gluing on a pink felt heart at its center, and a healthy sprinkling of sequins and glitter in an act that would become a trademark – much to the chagrin of all my friends who never wanted glitter on their faces for the rest of their lives. 

‘Tis the damn season, so go have your Valentine’s Day and celebrate in whatever fashion you deem delightful. I’ll be home with Andy, watching the new season of ‘Feud’ with Truman Capote and his Swans. A night in with a television show is a rare indulgence for me, and I couldn’t ask for a better Valentine.

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Weaving a Summer Story Through Winter

Joan Baez is going to narrate this blog post, with a tale told through song, and a bit of escapism to take us out of the winter framework. Perhaps this should have been a summer song entry, but we need a little reference to summer here and now – after all, what’s the point of summer if we can’t conjure it in the midst of winter

On a wagon bound for marketThere’s a calf with a mournful eyeHigh above him there’s a swallowWinging swiftly through the sky
How the winds are laughingThey laugh with all their mightLaugh and laugh the whole day throughAnd half the summer’s night

Stop complaining“, said the farmer“Who told you a calf to be?”“Why don’t you have wings to fly withLike the swallow so proud and free?”
How the winds are laughingThey laugh with all their mightLaugh and laugh the whole day throughAnd half the summer’s night
Donna, Donna, Donna, DonnaDonna, Donna, Donna, DonDonna, Donna, Donna, DonnaDonna, Donna, Donna, Don
Calves are easily bound and slaughteredNever knowing the reason whyBut whoever treasures freedomLike the swallow has learned to fly
How the winds are laughingThey laugh with all their mightLaugh and laugh the whole day throughAnd half the summer’s night

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When Your Heart’s Not Open

It was during this week way back in 1987 that Madonna was reigning on the charts with her #1 hit ‘Open Your Heart’ – one of my all-time favorite songs by her, and one that she recently performed in thrilling fashion on her Celebration Tour. While the Madonna Timeline for ‘Open Your Heart’ has already been written, I am happy to resurrect this extended version of the song in honor of such a recollection of its chart success. 

1987 was a banner year for music in my life (even if critics may disagree on its musical merit). Pop songs can infiltrate the mind of a 12-year-old and leave an imprint that may last for decades. The cadence of melody here always brings me back to that winter of 1987 – much else from that winter has been forgotten, the typical loss and degradation from time, and other things occupying the mind. And still, the longing to belong, inherent in this song, the desperate way she begs for another to open their heart, will always resonate with that part of me who never felt like he belonged. 

“If you gave me half the chance you’d see my desire burning inside of me, but you choose to look the other way…”

Meanwhile, Madonna’s love for art, and an artist like Tamara de Lempicka, spoke to me on another, more subtle and subliminal level. I had just begun to appreciate her appreciation for certain painters, following her lead less for the specific artists she chose to champion (like Frida Kahlo) and more in her passion and love for the evocation of a scene, of a mood, of a feeling. The greatest works of art elicit an emotion of some sort, ideally many emotions from many different people. The readings and interpretations are as varied as the viewers. 

For a 12-year-old in the golden age of MTV, Madonna’s ‘Open Your Heart’ video was a piece of modern-day art – a little story set to music, a mini-movie defined and delineated by costume, dance, movement, and gaze. Madonna’s mastery of the medium made her a star, and an inspiration for many a burgeoning gay man such as myself. She was speaking a language I understood in a way I couldn’t understand the basic communication of other boys my age. They spoke through sports and physical activity, through fights and horse-play and wrestling; I wanted only to whisper, to share a secret, to cast a spell. With wishes, with words, with sheer force of will…

‘One is such a lonely number…’

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #175 – ‘Looking For Mercy’ ~ Summer 2019

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

Madonna has crafted some amazing summer songs – see ‘True Blue‘ and ‘Express Yourself‘ and ‘Vogue‘ and ‘Ray of Light‘ – and songs hit a sweeter spot when they are released in the summer; the season of the sun burns musical memories into the mind more indelibly than perhaps any other time of the year. 

It was a darker summer but we didn’t know that then, and so it was a summer of light, the last if I really think about it. The thing is… summer always comes with dark nights, and darker currents underneath all the sun and fun. This Madonna Timeline, a bonus track from her ‘Madame X’ album, hints at that darker undertone, taking things on a slightly more serious turn, one that would find fruition the next year. 

Every night, before I close my eyes
I say a little prayer that you’ll have mercy on me
Please, dear God, to live inside the divine
Not like I want to die
Teach me to forgive myself, outlive this hell

Is it really love if it hurts?
Is it really pain if it’s inside?
On the outside, I’m strong
Hold my hand, please sympathize
Hard enough trying to forgive
Hard enough trying to live
Please don’t criticize, yeah
Please, please sympathize, yeah

The ‘Madame X’ album was an exercise in moody music, even as it came out just as summer was getting started. The drama of ‘Looking for Mercy’ finds Madonna examining a quest for mercy, a search for sympathy – the usual desire for connection and understanding. It’s not the fluffy stuff of previous summer fare like ‘Love Makes the World Go Round‘ or ‘Where’s the Party?‘ It rings closer in theme and import to ‘Live to Tell‘ – a throwback to summers that wanted to be more carefree than they ever actually were. 

Somebody to teach me to love
Somebody to help me rise above
I need to survive, I’m looking for
Looking for, looking for, looking for mercy
Looking for, looking for, looking for mercy
I’m looking for, I’m looking for love
Looking for, looking for, looking for mercy
Looking for, looking for, looking for mercy
I’m looking for, I’m looking for mercy

Looking back at that summer of 2019 – the summer before we were plunged unwillingly into a worldwide pandemic – it feels both innocent and somber, as though we knew there was something darker coming, and somehow we had to make the most of it. Summer lends urgency to its days, ever-aware that September would arrive sooner than desired. Did we embrace the days? Did we honor the hours? The memories now are mostly questions, the wisdom of hindsight muted and inscrutable, and the gauzy haze that summer wraps around its days closes in cocoon-like fashion. 

Is it really faith if I’m weak?
Can you tell the truth when you live lies?
I’m just looking for the signs
Hold my hand, please sympathize
Hard enough trying to forgive
Hard enough trying to live
Flawed, flawed by design, yeah
Please, please sympathize

Song #175 – ‘Looking For Mercy’ ~ Summer 2019

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A Selfish Showdown

People seem to have to pick a side these days, when everything is a binary choice in a world that was never meant to be about binary choices. Case in point is Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears. It feels like you have to be #TeamBritney or #TeamJustin with nary the room to be a fan of both. I’m not falling victim to making that choice, especially as neither has impressed me for years, but there were many former moments of love for both. 

That said, I do love a bit of pop-star trolling, and watching the Brit Stans succeed in pushing her 13-year-old track ‘Selfish’ from the ‘Femme Fatale’ album above Timberlake’s own ‘Selfish’ attempt at a sort of comeback is as amusing as it is enlightening for me (never heard the track, as that’s about the time I started tuning her out – not from ill-will, just from other interests supplanting that brand of dance-pop). So here is her version of ‘Selfish’ from all those years ago.

When pop titans fight for their musical relevance, it’s always a sight to see, and the aural explosions are designed to devastate. As for Justin’s ‘Selfish’, it percolates along at a pleasant pace, but it’s not a banger like former glories such as ‘SexyBack‘. Perhaps he’s banking on this having longer legs and insinuating itself in our heads as an amuse bouche in preparation for when the full album arrives. 

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #174 – ‘Crazy’ ~ Summer 2019

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

The Madonna Timeline is on a bit of a ‘Madame X’ kick of late, with the most recent entry being ‘God Control‘, and this one moving on to ‘Crazy’. One of the most charming and effervescent tracks of that album, ‘Crazy’ brings me happily back to the summer of 2019, a time that feels more quaint and sunny when you realize it was all in the months right before a worldwide deadly pandemic. In so many ways, that summer feels like one of the last great summers, and all the summers since then have been trying to achieve something similar, and all to no success. Maybe I’ve just grown up beyond having a carefree summer. Maybe last summer simply ruined it for me. I don’t know. What I do understand is that there is power in music – and power in this pretty little song. 

I spent all night waiting upIt’s gonna be the last night I wait up for youSpent a long time wakin’ upUsed to think that I was not enough for you
Now I see that I’m just way too muchYou got your hands full, I’m misunderstoodNow I see that I’m who I can trustAnd you got a lot of room, you tryin’ to make it good
But if you think I’ve been foolish and you only fool me onceI guess it’s shame on youSay now if you think I’ve been foolish and youKeep on trying to do it, baby, Imma switch the plans on you
‘Cause you’re driving me crazyYou must think I’m crazy

The start of the summer of 2019 was spent in gleeful anticipation of the ‘Madame X’ album – one of the first true summer albums released by Madonna since I can’t remember when (perhaps the most notable one being ‘True Blue’). The magic had begun with ‘Medellin‘ and while some of the album was gloriously experimental, Madonna still knew her way around a heady hook and a magical melody, which she melded with some strong Portuguese influence on ‘Crazy’. 

And I won’t let you drive me cray-ay-ay-ay-zyAnd I won’t let you drive me crazyVocê não vai me por tão lo-o-o-oucaVocê não vai me por tão louca

Starting the season as early as possible, I remember painting some of our worn backyard plant stands and furniture a bright yellow, unifying the accents with the curtains hanging from the canopy that year. They would be excellent foil for the garishly-colored pots I was using, forming a vibrant fiesta of color and bold hues that would help to make a celebration of summer. All the while, I played the ‘Madame X’ album on repeat, burning these beautiful songs into a summer memory

I bent my knees for you like a prayerMy God, look at me nowPulled off my weakness layer after layerNothing left for me to keep ’round
I’m a force that I won’t tame, babeCan’t go through this and stay the same, babeI’ve seen a lot of stranger things, babeAnd I’ll never look at you the same
But if you think I’ve been foolish and you only fool me onceI guess it’s shame on youSay now if you think I’ve been foolish and you keepOn trying to do it, baby, Imma switch the plans on you
‘Cause you’re driving me crazyYou must think I’m crazyVocê me põe tão loucaVocê pensa que eu sou louca
And I won’t let you drive me crazy-ay-ay-ay-ay-zyAnd I won’t let you drive me crazyVocê não vai me por tão lo-o-o-oucaVocê não vai me por tão louca

Once the patio was put together and looking pretty, the canopy assembled and providing some shade, and the pool swirling its chlorinated warmth in circles of wavering blue and aqua, Andy and I would pause and take it all in, enjoying this little oasis in the midst of upstate New York, our own little escape from the rest of the world. His adamant desire to have a pool paid off, and I’ve always been grateful for that. Madonna sang her songs crafted halfway round the world, and they matched the surroundings and the time perfectly. 

I put you on a pedestal but statues, they can fallFelt so safe, I let you drive me straight into the wallPaid the hell you dealt me, thought you felt meWas never good at games, now I just forget your name
But if you think I’ve been foolish and you only fool me onceI guess it’s shame on youSay now if you think I’ve been foolish and you keepOn trying to do it, baby, Imma switch the plans on you
‘Cause you’re driving me crazyYou must think I’m crazy

Summer ended all too quickly that year, though we didn’t realize it then. It was just another summer in a long line of summers, and there would always be such summers to come, wouldn’t there? I wish I’d known so I could have held onto it a little longer. Strike that – I’m glad we didn’t know. There was nothing to mar the happiness of the moment. 

If that makes me crazy, so be it.

Song #174 – ‘Crazy’ ~ Summer 2019

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A Christmas Wish from Madonna

This Santa took a tumble at Madonna’s latest ‘Celebration’ tour date when a dancer gave hi a bit of a lap-dance that he simply couldn’t handle. All in a Madonna concert, I suppose. The lady herself has never seemed all that big on Christmas, having released but one holiday song, a rather annoying version of ‘Santa Baby’ when she was in full Betty-Boop/Nicki-Finn mode. Still, as the only Madonna Christmas song we have (all stretches of ‘Holiday’ to the side) it has remained a holiday staple, even if nothing could ever come close to the original version by Eartha Kitt. It’s here below because it is, ahem, the season.

Personally, I’m glad we don’t have a Madonna Christmas album, although given her name and religious dabbling, I could see her putting together a majestically sacrilegious romp that might prove very interesting. Until such time, I’ll make do with the songs that remind me of my own personal holiday memories

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #173 – ‘God Control’ ~ Summer 2019

{Note: The Madonna Timeline is an ongoing feature, where I put the iPod on shuffle and write a little anecdote on whatever was going on in my life when that Madonna song was released and/or came to prominence in my mind.}

Everybody knows the damn truthOur nation lied, we lost respectWhen we wake up, what can we do?Get the kids ready, take them to schoolEverybody knows they don’t have a chanceTo get a decent job, to have a normal lifeWhen they talk reforms, it makes me laughThey pretend to help, it makes me laughI think I understand why people get a gunI think I understand why we all give upEvery day they have a kind of victoryBlood of innocence, spread everywhereThey say that we need loveBut we need more than this…

One of the absolute highlights of Madonna’s somewhat-underappreciated (and some might say somewhat-underwhelming) ‘Madame X’ album is ‘God Control’ – a masterpiece of a sonic journey, complete with choir and tongue-in-cheek rapping, that comes with the last great video she’s given us. Give it another listen and viewing below:

We lost God controlWe lost God controlWe lost God controlWe lost God control

This song, and the entire thought-provoking ‘Madame X’ album, brings me back to the summer of 2019 – in so many ways a last summer of innocence, and a last summer before the world went bonkers. Maybe it’s just me getting old, and maybe people always say this as time moves on, but I do genuinely feel that things are different. Society – especially American society – has changed, and it doesn’t seem for the better.

This is your wake-up callI’m like your nightmareI’m here to start your dayThis is your wake-up callWe don’t have to fallA new democracyGod and pornographyA new democracy…

The rise of America’s gun culture, and the apparently unswaying way we are all letting people, including children, just succumb to something that could be so easily stopped is one more tell-tale sign of these changes. Madonna tackled the subject in this song and video, switching out ‘Gun Control’ for ‘God Control‘ because religion plays its part in where we have been, and where we are headed. A hypocritical religion, perhaps, but a religion nonetheless. 

People think that I’m insaneThe only gun is in my brainEach new birth, it gives me hopeThat’s why I don’t smoke that dopeInsane people think I amBrain inside, my only friendHope it gives me birth each newThat dope I don’t smoke, it’s true…

Only Madonna could turn such a controversial topic into a video that is transfixing, enthralling, entertaining, disturbing, and impossible-not-to-watch. At four decades into an unprecedented career of entertainment domination, she’s mastered the art form of the video – hell, she practically invented it – and it remains one of the most vital methods of communicating her message. Images aligned with music, backed with meaning and significance, taking us on a journey of light and dark… this is what Madonna does best. 

Everybody knows the damn truthEverybody knows the damn truth (wake up)We need to wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake upWake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake upWe need to make up, make up, make up, make upMake up, make up, make up, make up, make up, make upIt’s a hustle, yeahIt’s a hustleIt’s a conIt’s a hustleIt’s a weird kind of energyA bizarre thing that happens to beAn abnormal fraternityAnd I feel more than sympathy

A message that was depressingly resonant and needed in 2019 has become a message that rings with even greater loss and rage in 2023. Thoughts and prayers have done nothing over the past four years, and will continue to do nothing. Gun violence is the number one killer of children in America. So while you’re worried about drag queens reading books to your kids or an imaginary war on Christianity, ask yourself what Jesus might do when confronted with an epidemic like guns. Pretty sure he wouldn’t be arming himself with an AR-15. 

A new democracy!
Everybody knows the damn truthOur nation lied, we’ve lost respectWhen we wake up, what can we do?Get the kids ready, take them to schoolEverybody knows they don’t have a chanceGet a decent job, have a normal lifeWhen they talk reform, it makes me laughThey pretend to help, it makes me laugh…

And so we laugh, and so we float along… In that summer of 2019, my niece and nephew join us for a swim in the pool. Laughing and splashing, the carefree memories of childhood encroach on the present moment, and I remember a time when kids weren’t getting shot in schools. The water is warm, the sun is strong, and, based on all outward appearances, who can tell a summer day by the pool today from a summer day by the pool forty years ago? A disco tune still spins in the background, the gleeful squeals of kids having fun punctuate the beat, and that funny juxtaposition of laughter and tears reminds me that the world has gone mad, and I no longer know how not to go mad along with it. 

Song #173 – ‘God Control’ ~ Summer 2019

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A Whisper on the First Day of Winter…

Winter then … let us have our winter now.

With pause and hesitance and … slow deliberation …

With wait and stop and still and false …

With the eternal ellipsis indicating that something is missing …

With something more

“Depending on their context and placement in a sentence, ellipses can indicate an unfinished thought, a leading statement, a slight pause, an echoing voice, or a nervous or awkward silence.”

I like the idea of winter beginning with an ellipsis …

So much mystery, so much possibility, so much left out, so much left to come …

So much left …

“An ellipsis may also imply an unstated alternative indicated by context.”

I also like the idea of winter beginning in bright bombast, in the cacophonous tumult and zany, electrified excitement of the holidays. Christmas!! New Year’s!!! And then the inevitable letdown and arrival of the doldrums … that’s what I truly seek this season.

The emptiness.

The aloneness.

When the noise is done, when the parties are over, when the resuming of school and work and life quickly renders this next week or two obsolete and soon forgotten, I will embrace the quiet and the stillness

The dark night of winter descends – may it also be a cloak, wherein we find healing and growth. I don’t want to pretend the pain away, I want to be fully present, to go through all of the hurt and ache of a winter, the prick of an icy wind, the sting of a frigid morning, the deluge of a winter snowstorm. But I want to do it with a cloak, or at the very least a veil. We all need a little bit of protection, no matter how strong or bullish we might appear. 

“The sign of ellipsis can function as a floor holding device, and signal that more is to come …”

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Found Song Echoing For the Final Day of Fall

We have arrived at the end of fall, and so we bracket this day’s end with the same song we played at the beginning of fall. Often, this is the post when we might have looked back at the fall season and all the things we did, but I’m not feeling nostalgic this soon – it’s too fresh, and I’m a bit too tired. If you’re truly interested in going back, scroll all the way to the bottom of the post, and look on the left for the little link labeled ‘Older Entries’. Repeat that until you find something approaching summer, then keep going… 

Another compelling reason not to recap anything here is the simple fact that I just don’t remember much of it. That’s a bit of a problem, indicative of my gaining years and losing faculties. So much of this fall has been simply going through the motions, setting myself on autopilot, days moving swiftly by in habitual, ordered fashion, anything to maintain momentum, even if the momentum is the bare minimum required to sustain, to survive, to get up one more time. 

I want to drown in your moonbeam…

This fall was partly about faking it, about pretending that I’d made it through the wilderness of this past summer and was beginning again, and that it was ok. But I don’t think things are ok. No. In fact, I know they are not ok, and there’s a likely possibility that they will never be ok again. I wasn’t quite ready to admit that at the start of fall. Leaving the options open for something to change my mind felt like the right thing to do. It gave me the spark of hope, even if nothing ever ignited or came of it. Maybe this winter I will learn to face it, to accept and somehow embrace the predicament of not being ok. 

The comforts of fall grow even more scant in winter, but I’m not afraid of that. Discomfort is often the only way to grow, and even though 48 years old feels closer to the end than the beginning, I’m giving myself some room, and time, to get better. Let’s see what this winter will bring…

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