Category Archives: Music

No one has had a better handle on the bittersweet and heartbroken anger that fuels empowerment better than Madonna. For all her steely nerve and breathtaking independence, she’s always been a romantic at heart, and she’s been hurt playing the game of love as much as anyone else. Maybe even more-so if we are to judge from her musical response to heartbreak. While some of her post-break-up songs are sorrowful (‘Take A Bow‘, ‘The Power of Good-bye‘, ‘Frozen‘, ‘You’ll See‘) there are others that simply rage, forming the jumping-off point to a whole new realm of empowerment, which always feels unlikely at such difficult times, but which has to happen in order to move ahead.

Here’s a little empowerment mix for anyone that needs to rage before moving on.

• Living For Love– It’s all about getting back up again, literally and figuratively. “I found freedom in the ugly truth/I deserve the best and it’s not you.”
• Devil Wouldn’t Recognize You– “Now that it’s over you can lie to me right through your smile/I see behind your eyes/now I’m sober, no more intoxicating my mind/Even the devil wouldn’t recognize you, but I do.”
• Gang Bang– Madonna at her most bitter and pageful, ‘Gang Bang’ is a hyperbolized jaunt through a little bit of the old ultra-violence, but it’s her whispered delivery of barely-veiled vitriol that gives this track its lethal bite: “You were building my coffin, you were driving my hearse.”
• Unapologetic Bitch– A barbed gem from the ‘Rebel Heart’ opus, this finds Madonna unapologetically ticking off a list of offenses from a former lover: “Tell me how it feels to be ignored.”
• I Don’t Give A…– Blunt, brutal, and brash, this exhaustive rendering of all that’s required when moving on cloaks some potent heartache: “I tried to be a good girl, I tried to be your wife/ Diminished myself and I swallowed my light/ I tried to become all that you expect of me/ And if it was a failure/ I don’t give a…”
• Best Friend– How this bonus track from the ‘MDNA‘ period got lost in the shuffle is anyone’s guess, and it’s an eternal shame, as it’s one of the most devastatingly personal examinations of a failed relationship that Madonna has ever written: “I lost my very best friend/ Not gonna candy-coat it and I don’t want to pretend/I put away your letters, saved the best ones that I had/ It wasn’t always perfect but it wasn’t always bad.” It’s her most pointed and powerful take on divorce since ‘Til Death Do Us Part‘ from the ‘Like A Prayer’ album.

• Sorry– This dance-floor tantrum was thrown in the face of wrong-doing, when saying sorry simply isn’t enough anymore: “You’re not half the man you think you are.”
• Jump– In every romantic bust-up, there comes a turning point when the anger and rage turn to resolve and betterment, when a person finally realizes the only thing to do is move on, starting at the jumping point. Are you ready?
• Express Yourself– Continuing on with Madonna’s perhaps-greatest rallying cry for empowerment, this classic song demands nothing but the best for its protagonist, wisely leaving wimps and wannabes in the dust: “And when you’re gone he might regret it, think about the love he once had/Try to carry on but he just won’t get it.”
• Falling Free– The final song on the brutal ‘MDNA’ break-up album, this finds the ambivalent abstraction of setting someone free, and finding freedom of your own in the process: “I let loose the need to know, and we’re both free, free to go.”

• Messiah– A warning as much as a bittersweet resignation: “I am the promise that you cannot keep/ Reap what you sow, find what you seek.”
• I Fucked Up– Madonna never fessed up to being wrong for the bulk of her career, and we loved her all the more for it. By the time the divorce album of ‘MDNA’ came along, however, she had to admit her part in the proceedings, and did so in this blunt apology song. Like ‘Best Friend’, this one got lost in the bonus track shuffle, and its heartbreaking and almost unnoticed final line is tellingly ambivalent: “I’m sorry, I’m not afraid to say, I wish I could have you back, maybe one day… or not.”
• I’ll Remember– One should always end on a hopeful note, or at least a note of reconciliation. Maybe even redemption. Love is always worth the pain. 

{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.}

This particular story must begin not with a Madonna song but a selection from ‘Swan Lake’ by Tchaikovsky. It rises slowly from a mist, just above some tremulous body of midnight water sparkling beneath a mysterious moon, in the darkness of winter on the edge of glassy-eyed solitude. There is beauty here, and there is danger ~ the razor-thin line between love and betrayal. In so many ways, one wouldn’t exist without the possibility or reality of the other. When men dance with men, there is a whole new set of rules and mores. Rarely does the dance end without injury; sometimes it only ends with death.

IT’S A BEAUTIFUL LIFE, BUT I’M NOT CONCERNED
IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DREAM, BUT A DREAM IS EARNED
I CAN DRESS LIKE A BOY, I CAN DRESS LIKE A GIRL
KEEP YOUR BEAUTIFUL WORDS, ‘CAUSE I’M NOT CONCERNED

‘CAUSE YOUR WORLD IS SUCH A SHAME
‘CAUSE YOUR WORLD’S OBSESSED WITH FAME
‘CAUSE YOUR WORLD’S IN SO MUCH PAIN
‘CAUSE YOUR WORLD IS
‘CAUSE YOUR WORLD IS
UP IN FLAMES

We are in New York City for a production of ‘Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake’, the pseudo-ballet that turns the classic tale into a coming of age homosexual love story of sorts, while touching on all sorts of emotional mayhem and compelling visuals along the way, including a cadre of shirtless male swans that are feral, ferocious, exquisite and enchanting. I’d taken Andy to see it many years ago, and tonight I was gifting it to Suzie, along with the same pre-theatre dinner stop at the Russian Tea Room – for Tchaikovsky, of course. 

The evening is threatening rain, which is actually rather benign for a January night. Even so, I brought the wrong coat for rain. After our dinner, and mocktails at The Plaza, we have an hour or so before the show, so we duck into a teahouse called Radiance. Warm wooden surroundings echo the heat of the teapots. We consider a turmeric blend but opt for something called Serenity with chamomile and lavender. When Serenity is an option, one should always choose Serenity. There, in the midst of a dark gray night, and before the curtain rises on ‘Swan Lake’, we nestle into a secret nook hidden in a non-descript stretch of street across from the theater. It is a jewel-box of a teahouse that perfectly cradles us within its curving carved wood. My necklace of black feathers, a last-minute find while waiting for Suzie to arrive, and just the thing for an evening of dramatic swans, is mostly concealed by an ornate silk scarf scented with Tom Ford’s ‘Oud Fleur’.

IT’S A BEAUTIFUL PLAN (HMM), BUT I’M NOT CONCERNED (OH YEAH)
IT’S A BEAUTIFUL GAME (HMM) THAT I NEVER LEARNED
PEOPLE TELL ME TO SHUT MY MOUTH (SHUT YOUR MOUTH)
THAT I MIGHT GET BURNED
KEEP YOUR BEAUTIFUL LIES (HMM) ‘CAUSE I’M NOT CONCERNED

‘CAUSE YOUR WORLD IS SUCH A SHAME
‘CAUSE YOUR WORLD’S OBSESSED WITH FAME
‘CAUSE YOUR WORLD’S IN SO MUCH PAIN
‘CAUSE YOUR WORLD IS
‘CAUSE YOUR WORLD IS

A twist on the typical take of this balletic tale, this version always brings out new sensations and emotions depending on where one is in their life. The first time I saw it I was touched by the familial relations and the way image and outward appearance of a family unit was more important than what went on behind closed doors.  It was a brilliant rendering of that space where what people saw of your back as you sat down in the front pew of church with your family mattered more than what was in a little boy’s heart, where appearance counted for more than substance, because what happened behind the walls of your childhood house could better be hidden and explained or unexplained away all that much easier. Distant parental figures unskilled at unconditional love, particularly for a child who didn’t behave or desire the way most other children did.

That first time I was also moved with the way the show illustrated the first flush of romantic love, that feeling of being both wanted and protected, loved and desired, cared for and completed. When the protagonist arrives at the edge of a lake and finds the beauty of the swans, it was a transcendent experience for anyone who has spent any amount of time hiding and then discovering who they were. For a gay man of a certain age, it was powerful stuff.

For this evening’s performance, those moments touched me again, but I was most moved by what happens when it appears there may be a happily ever after, when man and swan dance together while the world of swans and humans looks on, and then attacks, because at some point every couple comes under attack. Most of the time the attacks come from the inside – occasionally they come from an outside source, and only the lucky ones get out without an element of destruction. The final scenes were heartbreaking, as the very essence of love and companionship was torn violently asunder, and the envy and vindictiveness of others intrudes, ripping any remnants of innocence apart. The swan troop swoops in and attacks the one swan who saved the young man, because not everyone can be happy in the happiness of others. They killed him, but they could not kill love. The young man dies too, but not his love. For its time, it existed – like a little fire, providing warmth and haven from a cruel, frigid world – and it lasted for as long as it lasted. In such a sense, love can be both finite and forever.

The curtain fell. The show was over. We exited the theater.

Another ballet was about to begin… a Dark Ballet.

Beauty.

Darkness.

Dance.

Sacrifice.

Storm.

All of it fits within the realm of Art, that all-encompassing way that humans have developed of dealing with the world as we know it. How to interpret and shape a vision, how to reflect upon and expound upon the particular time at hand, how to express a way out when one needs to escape. Art, in its most desperate state, is survival.

It was at the Metropolitan Museum of Art during the Met Gala when Madonna premiered a snippet of this song during her magnificent performance, paving the way for the dark beauty that would be her ‘Madame X’ album. It was theatrical, and the ‘Dark Ballet’ bit incorporated classical piano riffs and some balletic dancing recalling Madonna’s own storied beginnings as a dancer, where she was supposedly christened ‘Madame X’ by none other than Martha Graham.

I WILL NOT DENOUNCE THE THINGS THAT I HAVE SAID
I WILL NOT RENOUNCE MY FAITH IN MY SWEET LORD
HE HAS CHOSEN ME TO FIGHT AGAINST THE ENGLISH
I AM NOT AFRAID AT ALL TO DIE ‘CAUSE I BELIEVE YOU
GOD IS ON MY SIDE AND I’LL BE FINE
I AM NOT AFRAID ‘CAUSE I HAVE FAITH IN HIM
YOU CAN CUT MY HAIR AND THROW ME IN A JAIL CELL
SAY THAT I’M A WITCH AND BURN ME AT THE STAKE
IT’S ALL A BIG MISTAKE
DON’T YOU KNOW TO DOUBT HIM IS A SIN?
I WON’T GIVE IN

By far one of Madonna’s most experimental works, this song joins a largely-unrecognized canon of astounding aural adventures (see also ‘Gang Bang‘, ‘Mer Girl‘, ‘Act of Contrition‘ and ‘Secret Garden‘ – not all of which work, but none of which are dull or boring). It’s also a reminder of the darker fare of her later work output after 2001 or so, such as ‘Beautiful Killer‘, ‘American Life‘, ‘Killers Who Are Partying‘, ‘Revolver‘ or’Messiah‘.

Tchaikovsky is sampled here in a nod to the genius and insanity of ‘A Clockwork Orange’, and it’s brilliant and mad and utterly exhilarating. Her voice digitally distorted beyond recognition, and past the point where words can even be understood outside of the printed lyrics here, she warps the human sound into a computerized entity at once remote and commanding. There is a chill to the proceedings, in spite of the bouncy ballet music, and the juxtaposition is one of the most thrilling moments on the entire ‘Madame X’ opus. Three decades into her career, to find Madonna still experimenting and daring us to hear new things is quite a remarkable feat, one that should not go unnoticed in this era of play-it-safe stars and ultra-careful celebrities. The chance to get canceled for one kooky mis-step looms terrifyingly on the landscape of any burgeoning starlet; that Madonna dances boldly on in the presence of such landmines is testament to what I’ve always admired about her.

She ends the magnificent journey with a spoken warning as Tchaikovsky spins giddily on behind her:

THEY ARE SO NAIVE
THEY THINK WE ARE NOT AWARE OF THEIR CRIMES
WE KNOW, BUT WE ARE JUST NOT READY TO ACT
THE STORM ISN’T IN THE AIR, IT’S INSIDE OF US
I WANT TO TELL YOU ABOUT LOVE AND LONELINESS
BUT IT’S GETTING LATE NOW
CAN’T YOU HEAR OUTSIDE OF YOUR SUPREME HOODIE,

THE WIND THAT’S BEGINNING TO HOWL?

The electronic classical interim fades as the simple piano melody and its dour minor key returns. There is one last line, sung plainly, as much a wish as a sneer. It contains all the hope and poison of the world, and the unspoken notion that if everything was always beautiful, we might never recognize beauty. How sad, when you think too much about it, when you really dig into the philosophy of the idea. How glorious too, that we have the opportunity to live in this world right now. To live in the world at any time, really. We are afforded such scant joy in the grand scheme of the universe.

IT’S A BEAUTIFUL LIFE.

SONG #160: ‘Dark Ballet’ – Spring 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.}

Apologies for keeping you waiting on this Madonna Timeline, but it fits the song, so the slightly masochistic game of anticipation worked out in the end. This selection brings us back to the winter of 1993, following the hubbub and release of the ‘Erotica’ album and ‘Sex’ book – one of the most stunning and spectacular sections of Madonna’s career, and one which almost sent the whole thing off the rails. True fans thrilled at the ride, and as 1993 began I took cues from her ‘Body of Evidence’ thriller and lit a cadre of candles in my bedroom, watching the soft light elicit shadows as I writhed beneath the blankets on those frigid January nights.

WELL I KNOW FROM EXPERIENCE

THAT IF YOU HAVE TO ASK FOR SOMETHING MORE THAN ONCE OR TWICE

IT WASN’T YOURS IN THE FIRST PLACE

AND THAT’S HARD TO ACCEPT WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE

AND YOU’RE LED TO BELIEVE

IN THEIR MOMENT OF NEED

THAT THEY WANT WHAT YOU WANT BUT THEY DON’T

When she wasn’t waiting, anticipating or hesitating, Madonna kept a pretty active beat. Impatience may be her greatest sin, though it’s served her well. At a time in her career when slowing down may be mandatory, looking back on the way she rushed through the early 90’s in a whirlwind of image-change-ups, keeping all of us guessing as to where she might be headed next, is a lesson in inspired ambition. Such a continual and provocative turn of guises might blunt the power of a singular persona, yet they only added to her allure and intrigue. For someone who seemed to revel in revealing so much, she retained a mystique that felt tantalizingly impenetrable. We always wanted more.

DON’T GO BREAKING MY HEART LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD

BABY YOU’RE NOT GOOD

AND YOU HURT ME LIKE NO OTHER LOVER EVER COULD

DON’T GO MAKING ME CRY

YOU’RE GONNA SAY GOODBYE

BABY TELL ME WHY, TELL ME WHY OR YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO JUSTIFY THIS

WAITING FOR YOU

JUST WAITING

CAN’T YOU SEE I’M WAITING FOR YOU

DON’T BREAK MY HEART

For all her naked exploits and controversial posing, her vulnerable core seemed an easy target for careless men, or men who simply couldn’t quite live up to the impossibility of being her match. When you’re the most interesting person in every room it’s difficult to find much happiness or hope after a while. That doesn’t mean she ever stopped looking. It also didn’t mean that people couldn’t break her heart. Quite the contrary, and this song embodies the icy fire that burns beneath the entire’Erotica’ era. The album sizzles in snowy fashion. Sex was a weapon and a way to salvation. It could act as salve and savior, destroyer and devil. It could seduce and betray in a single slinky encounter.

IT WAS SO EASY IN THE BEGINNING

WHEN YOU DIDN’T FEEL LIKE RUNNING FROM YOUR FEELINGS LIKE YOU ARE NOW

WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT DO I REMIND YOU OF?

YOUR PAST, YOUR DREAMS, OR SOME PART OF YOURSELF THAT YOU JUST CAN’T LOVE?

I WISH I COULD BELIEVE YOU

OR AT LEAST HAVE THE COURAGE TO LEAVE YOU.

‘Waiting’ is mostly a spoken song that travels along the whispered path of ‘Justify My Love’ but it contains a few impossible-to-shake hooks. While Shep Pettibone (of ‘Vogue’ glory) got much of the production attention, Andre Betts gave the album its jazzy, hip-hop grooves, most of which were wetter than all those salacious dance tracks. (See the wizardry of ‘Where Life Begins’ and ‘Secret Garden‘.) ‘Waiting’ also contains some pretty pointed and powerful words that only occasionally verge on veering into trite territory. Madonna’s blunt delivery saves it, giving it an edge heretofore unseen in much of her work.

LIFE HAS TAUGHT ME THAT LOVE WITH A MAN LIKE YOU IS ONLY GONNA MAKE BE BLUE

BUT I LOVE YOU ANYWAY NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO

YOU DON’T COME AROUND HERE LIKE YOU DID BEFORE

WHEN YOU DID ADORE

TELL ME WHAT I DID TO DESERVE THIS

WAITING FOR YOU

I’M WAITING

CAN’T YOU SEE I’M WAITING FOR YOU

DON’T BREAK MY HEART

As the candles flicker and the wax drips, the intoxicating pull of desires and dreams lends the bedroom a sexual shadow. This song runs on for a healthy length, its meandering piano passes tickling Madonna’s breathless delivery, and the idea of waiting for a man, and for everything he might deliver, hangs in the smoky air. The hand moves languidly to the cock, and overcome by the need for sleep, my touch is one of casual lethargy. As sexually-charged as some cuts of the ‘Erotica’ album might be, there’s a richer layer of emotions at work, as evidenced by cuts like ‘Rain‘ and ‘Deeper and Deeper‘ and the title track itself. Sex was messy like that. As plainly physical as it could be, it always seemed tied into something deeper. Sometimes it was love. Sometimes it was pain. Always it was complicated. But I loved that about it. The complexities that swirled around the cock formed a heady conundrum that never failed to fascinate. What we did for gratification. What we did for want. What we did to connect… 

FINALLY I SEE A DIFFERENT MAN

ONLY LOVE CAN HURT LIKE THIS CAN

FINALLY I SEE A DIFFERENT FACE

TELL ME WHO IS GOING TO TAKE MY PLACE

The clock ticks. The clock tocks. Time hastens and slows, back and forth in a building rhythm. It pushes and pulls, and the body responds. Rivulets of wax run forth from the thick candles, spilling onto the desk, splashing and coalescing into muted echoes of what they once were. The transformation into heat and light and liquid complete, the flame flickers, daring and demanding to be blown out. Just open your mouth and lick your lips, letting the breath of life devour the fire. Take it all in…

I KNEW IT FROM THE START THAT YOU WOULD DESERT ME

YOU’RE GONNA BREAK MY HEART BABY PLEASE DON’T HURT ME

I KNEW IT FROM THE START THAT YOU WOULD DESERT ME

YOU’RE GONNA BREAK MY HEART BABY PLEASE DON’T HURT ME

Such was the fantasy, and such was the spell Madonna cast over me at the time. Whether it was pussy or prick for which I yearned, I couldn’t quite tell. The ‘Sex’ book had me straddling the divide like Madonna straddled a mirror while touching herself. The look of Madonna’s gaze as she reclined in shadow was as enthralling as the guys in the gaiety. The jockstrap-clad bald men enticed me as much as her dalliance with a shirtless Vanilla Ice. Sometimes sex was sex and it didn’t matter if it was with a man or a woman.

And so I stayed Waiting…

THE NEXT TIME YOU WANT PUSSY

JUST LOOK IN THE MIRROR BABY.

SONG #159: ‘Waiting’ – Winter 1993

{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.}

We have reached the depressing point in fall when all the color has drained from the world. From here on out there only grays and browns and blacks, as evidenced in the piles of leaves seen around the neighborhood. Mounds of them, tinged with mold and decay, some dismally soaked, some relievedly dry, remain in the lawn. The thought of bagging them feels impossible. Memories of raking flood my mind – smoke hanging in the air, tears drying on my face, our white brick house in the distance – and the inconsolable fact that November was somehow always the saddest month. I’d stand beneath the forest of pine trees and oaks, raking and bagging in an endless cycle of hellish repetition.

The weight of each bag depended on how wet the fall was. Dry leaves could be packed and stacked, their bags easily lifted and plopped by the edge of the road for pick-up. Wet leaves, while they were easier to handle because they all stuck together, were exponentially heavier. Rarely was there a happy medium. Rarely was there happiness.

Haunted by a house I thought was my home, I was too young to realize how I might never belong. I held onto the delusions of childhood as tightly as I could, to no avail. They took to the sky like those wisps of smoke that colored and scented the air. I could only feel the remnants of them, the echo of their sentiment.

An old-school pair of headphones kept my ears shielded from the wind, and more importantly they fed the lifeblood that would take me out of my body, out of my head, out of my misery while a musical enchantress sung of love and loss and family on her majestic ‘Like A Prayer’ album. Madonna was my escape and salvation. Then and now. Time catches up to me, literally three decades later. The same forlorn state of the season, the same forlorn terrain of the heart.

And, just like then, I turn to Madonna.

ONE

TWO

ONE

TWO

ONE-TWO

CHA-CHA-CHA

ONE-TWO

TWO-ONE

TWO-ONE

CHA-CHA-CHA-CHA

Choosing a snippet of ASMR as an opener to an eagerly-anticipated album is a head-scratcher, but there she was, whispering in my ear and transforming her voice into scratches of sound like the distant raking of dry leaves in the smoky autumn air, intoning the count-off to a cha-cha as her 14^thstudio album ‘Madame X’ began its sonic journey.

It arrived in the middle of spring, when we were just about to set the scene for summer. ‘Medellín’ came at the perfect time, even if the weather wasn’t quite ready to turn the page. New England doesn’t always like to let winter go, and on a weekend in Boston that was wild with wind and bitter with rain – the usual roller-coaster of weather that has always put me in a tizzy – I played this song to combat the awfulness.

That spring was a hopeful one, and this was a tease to a new Madonna album – one that promised to become the soundtrack to the coming summer. ‘Medellín’ was the ideal teaser – a whisper of a track that was a delectable way to shuffle into a meeting with Madame X.

I TOOK A PILL AND HAD A DREAM
I WENT BACK TO MY 17TH YEAR
ALLOWED MYSELF TO BE NAIVE
TO BE SOMEONE I’VE NEVER BEEN
I TOOK A SIP AND HAD A DREAM
AND I WOKE UP IN Medellín
THE SUN WAS CARESSING MY SKIN
ANOTHER ME COULD NOW BEGIN

It already feels so far away. How could spring have been so long ago? How could the world have changed so much? I still remember those first few days of warmth, when the dream-like trance of this song held sway and Madonna shared the aural territory with Maluma, something she had achieved with similar success in ‘4 Minutes’ with Justin Timberlake, and less desirous results in ‘Me Against the Music’ with Britney Spears. Here their voices worked well together, and the casual vibe of this entry was a refreshing change of pace from earlier lead-off singles. [See ‘Material Girlâ’, ‘Like A Prayer‘, ‘Vogue‘, ‘Hung Up‘, ‘4 Minutes‘ and even ‘Gimme All Your Luvin.‘

TRANQUILA, BABY, YO TE APOYO
NO HAY QUE HABLARNOS MUCHO PARA ENTRAR EN ROLLO
SI QUIERES SER MI REINA PUES YO TE CORONO
Y PA’ QUE TE SIENTES AQUÃ TENGO UN TRONO
TE GUSTA CABALGAR, ESO ESTÃ CLARO
SI SIENTES QUE VOY RAPIDO LE BAJO
DISCÚLPAME, YO Sà QUE ERES MADONNA
PERO TE VOY A DEMOSTRAR CÃMO ESTE PERRO TE ENAMORA

In our backyard, I painted plant stands in shades of bright canary yellow – so bright and saturated with color that they almost hurt my eyes as they dried in the sun. I found a few pots glazed in a rainbow of fiery shades and filled them with ferns. The patio by the pool was soon a tropical paradise, and on an ancient, dusty CD player Madonna and Maluma traded verses. If you squinted at the rippling water and pretended the neighbor’s kids were quiet, you could almost picture the aqua brilliance of the ocean, the sway of the palm trees, the heat of the sand…

VEN CONMIGO, LET’S TAKE A TRIP
SI TE LLEVO PA’ UN LUGAR LEJANO
VEN CONMIGO, I’LL BE SO GOOD FOR YOU
TE ENAMORO, TE ENAMORO, MAMI (AY-AY-AY)
VEN CONMIGO, LET’S TAKE A TRIP
DAME DE ESO QUE TÚ ESTÃS TOMANDO
VEN CONMIGO, I’LL BE SO GOOD FOR YOU
(AY-AY-AY)

April made way for May, and our annual trips to Boston and New York were flavored with this song. Over daydreams of idyllic scenes, Madonna and Maluma beckon us to Medellín a place I’ve never been, but one which I imagine is another sort of paradise. Their voices married, the harmonies are divine and the chorus is one big euphoric release. ‘Dos casamos’ indeed.

Like the very best Madonna songs, ‘Medellín‘ lifts us out of whatever mundane existence in which we may be living and drops us into the middle of aural paradise. The ultimate fantasy, where warm breezes rustle coconut trees, every beautiful shade of blue and green extends in endless ocean, and the flowers in bloom shed their perfume like a perpetually-discarded veil of silk.

SIPPING MY PAIN JUST LIKE CHAMPAGNE
FOUND MYSELF DANCING IN THE RAIN WITH YOU
I FELT SO NAKED AND ALIVE (SHOW ME)
FOR ONCE I DIDN’T HAVE TO HIDE MYSELF (DICE)

Madonna’s voice is reminiscent of her ‘Ray of Light’ work – careful and concise, at times almost shy and tentative in the most moving fashion – and though it’s tinged with a bit too much autotune for some old-school fans, I think it works rather well here. Maluma’s contributions work too, and the video illustrates some playful chemistry (and more cinematic scope than what she did on ‘Rebel Heart’ lead-off single ‘Living For Love‘).

We hosted friends for dinner as the summer traipsed onward. Andy grilled burgers and steaks and hot dogs and chicken. I assembled quinoa salads and preciously-filled cucumber cups. The plants on the patio filled in – a banana tree unfurled leaf after wondrous leaf, the angel’s trumpets lowered their pendulous blooms, and the ferns gently waved their green fronds in the slightest breeze. A summer spent in the backyard need not be lacking in beauty and calm; sometimes it is the only place to find both at once.

OYE MAMACITA, ÂQUÃ TE PASA? (DIME)
MIRA QUE YA ESTAMOS EN MI CASA (YEAH)
SI SIENTE’ QUE HAY UN VIAJE AHÃ EN TU MENTE (WOO)
SERÃ POR EL EXCESO DE AGUARDIENTE (DILE)
PERO, MAMI, TRANQUILA, TÚ SOLO VACILA
QUE ESTAMOS EN COLOMBIA, AQUÃ HAY RUMBA EN CADA ESQUINA
Y SI TÚ QUIERES NOS VAMOS POR DETROIT (TÚ SABE’)
SI SÃ DE DÃNDE VIENES PUES SÃ PA’ DONDE VOY

From her earliest songs (‘Everybody‘ and ‘Holiday’) through such classics as ‘La Isla Bonita‘ and ‘Where’s the Party‘ and all the way to ‘Get Together‘, ‘Celebration‘, and ‘Turn Up the Radio‘ Madonna has often been about escapist entertainment. The need to get away – just one day out of life – is too often undervalued and underrated, not unlike Madonna herself. In so many ways, we seem to have lost the understanding of the importance of rest and rejuvenation, of taking a break and doing nothing, all in the name of recharging and replenishing. Our souls are starving for such a respite.

VEN CONMIGO, LET’S TAKE A TRIP
SI TE LLEVO PA’ UN LUGAR LEJANO
VEN CONMIGO, I’LL BE SO GOOD FOR YOU
TE ENAMORO, TE ENAMORO, MAMI (AY-AY-AY)
VEN CONMIGO, LET’S TAKE A TRIP
DAME DE ESO QUE TÃ ESTAS TOMANDO
VEN CONMIGO, I’LL BE SO GOOD FOR YOU (OKAY)
SI TE ENAMORO (SI ME ENAMORAS)
EN MENOS DE UN AÑO, NO, NO (HAHAHA)
NO’ VAMO’, NO’ VAMO’, NO VAMO’ PA’ MEDALLO (AY, QUÃ RICO)
SI TE ENAMORO (SI ME ENAMORAS)
ES LO QUE AMO, NO, NO
PUE’ MAMI, PUE’ MAMI, PUE’ MAMI, NOS CASAMOS
(CHA-CHA-CHA)

Just as the summer seemed like it might linger forever, cooler nights slipped in. The ostrich ferns by the pool began to go brown – first just the tips, then the entire frond – shriveling in on themselves like the Wicked West of the East under her final resting place. The sweet potato vines, long since extending their chartreuse limbs all the way from the canopy to the ground, began to get straggly and spent. They looked tired. Soon – too soon, like always – the air of fall snuck in through the darkened edges of evening. Still we hung on. Still we cherished the sunlight, and most especially the moonlight, when it was warm enough to be outside looking up at the sky.

WE BUILT A CARTEL JUST FOR LOVE
VENUS WAS HOVERING ABOVE US (OH, YEAH)
I TOOK A TRIP, IT SET ME FREE (MI REINA)
FORGAVE MYSELF FOR BEING ME (AY-AY-AY)

VEN CONMIGO, LET’S TAKE A TRIP
SI TE LLEVO PA’ UN LUGAR LEJANO
VEN CONMIGO, I’LL BE SO GOOD FOR YOU
TE ENAMORO, TE ENAMORO, MAMI (AY-AY-AY)
VEN CONMIGO, LET’S TAKE A TRIP
DAME DE ESO QUE TÚ ESTÃS TOMANDO
VEN CONMIGO, I’LL BE SO GOOD FOR YOU

SI TE ENAMORO (SI ME ENAMORAS)
EN MENOS DE UN AÑO, NO, NO
NO’ VAMO’, NO’ VAMO’, NO VAMO’ PA’ MEDALLO (AY, QUÃ RICO)
SI TE ENAMORO (SI ME ENAMORAS)
ES LO QUE AMO, NO, NO
PUE’ MAMI, PUE’ MAMI, PUE’ MAMI, NOS CASAMOS

Thus Madonna ushered in her ‘Madame X’ opus, and thus she sang over the credits for the entire summer season. We splashed. We laughed. We read. We walked. We laid in the sun and listened to music. We visited with friends and sat around citronella candles. We celebrated the summer and the healing balm of its warmth.

It all feels so far away now.

The count-off ticks down.

We return to where we are.

Summer is no more.

ONE, TWO, CHA-CHA-CHA
ONE, TWO, CHA-CHA-CHA
ONE, TWO, CHA-CHA-CHA
ONE, TWO, SLOW DOWN, PAPI

Slow down, slow down, slow down…

The eternal chant and wish for summer to last.

The wish and hope riding high on a season.

The feeling riding high on a song.

We dance. We sing.

We fade out with a whisper…

ONE, TWO, CHA-CHA-CHA
ONE, TWO, CHA-CHA-CHA
ONE, TWO, CHA-CHA-CHA
ONE, TWO, AY-AY-AY
ONE, TWO, TWO, ONE
ONE, TWO, TWO, ONE
ONE, ONE, TWO, TWO
CHA, CHA-CHA-CHA

SONG #158 – ‘Medellín’ ~ Spring/Summer 2019