Category Archives: Music

{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.}

Turning back to Madonna’s ‘Rebel Heart’ album, ‘Borrowed Time’ is one of the bonus tracks from that musically fertile period. Rumor has it that originally ‘Rebel Heart’ was to be a double album, with two of Madonna’s emotional sides on raw display. I think that would have been a killer concept; whittled down to one collection left the final version feeling slightly disjointed and all over the place. Still, it was a beautiful mess, and while ‘Borrowed Time’ is rightfully left off the main event, it’s a lovely-enough tune.

It’s a good point to take a look back at that era, as Madonna has just released a new album – always an exciting time.

DO WE NEED TO START A WAR
DO WE NEED TO TAKE A SIDE
IF WE OPEN UP OUR EYES
REALIZE THAT WE ARE DYING
IS IT ALL WORTH FIGHTING FOR
IT ALL COMES DOWN TO

WHO’S WRONG OR RIGHT
WHO’S BLACK OR WHITE
IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU’RE BLEEDING FOR
STRAIGHT OR BI OR
GOD ALMIGHTY
DOESN’T MATTER UNDERNEATH IT ALL

‘CAUSE WE’RE ONLY HERE TO LOVE
LIKE THERE’S NO TOMORROW
SO LET’S LIVE EACH MOMENT LIKE OUR TIME IS ONLY BORROWED

Back in 2015, after all the leaks and falls and wonky stand-up moments, ‘Rebel Heart‘ arrived with the insistent drumming and drive of a standard Madonna album, even if she was not pushing any overt boundaries. Rather than one or two main collaborators, however, Madonna and/or her management had a hefty cadre of contributors adding to its spotty feel. When it was high, it soared, as in the title track, the second single ‘Ghosttown‘ and the glorious ‘Messiah.’ When it went low on ‘Best Night,’ ‘Queen,’ and ‘S.E.X.‘ it was a reminder that not all that Madonna touched turned to gold. Still, give me a slight Madonna misfire over any current pop star’s smash hit any day. More indicative of the album and Madonna’s head at the time were songs like ‘Joan of Arc’ and ‘Inside Out‘ – two gorgeous songs that deserved more attention and honor.

DO WE NEED TO BUILD A BOMB
DO WE NEED TO FIRE A GUN
IF YOU HAVE TO STAND YOUR GROUND
IT’S A WAR THAT CAN’T BE WON
IS IT ALL WORTH DYING FOR
IT ALL COMES DOWN TO

WHO’S RICH OR POOR
VIRGIN OR WHORE
IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU’RE PRAYING FOR
DEATH OR LIFE
YOU’RE TRUTH ALMIGHTY
DOESN’T MATTER UNDERNEATH IT ALL

‘CAUSE WE’RE ONLY HERE TO LOVE
LIKE THERE’S NO TOMORROW
SO LET’S LIVE EACH MOMENT LIKE OUR TIME IS ONLY BORROWED

The ‘Rebel Heart’ album spawned the Rebel Heart Tour, something warmer and more heartfelt than previous tour outings (such as the criminally and intentionally-icy MDNA Tour). It remains to be seen where she’ll go next with her upcoming Madame X Theater Tour, but the encroachment of time has always been her greatest enemy, and the one consistently driving force that grows louder with each passing year. That must feel suffocating to someone like Madonna, and her quicksilver darting is testament to her mantra that it’s tough to hit a moving target. She hasn’t got much time to wait…

IT ALL COMES DOWN TO
WHO’S RICH OR POOR
VIRGIN OR WHORE
IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU’RE PRAYING FOR
DEATH OR LIFE
YOU’RE TRUTH ALMIGHTY
DOESN’T MATTER UNDERNEATH IT ALL

‘CAUSE WE’RE ONLY HERE TO LOVE
LIKE THERE’S NO TOMORROW
SO LET’S LIVE EACH MOMENT LIKE OUR TIME IS ONLY BORROWED

SONG #151: ‘Borrowed Time’ – Spring 2015

Wacky, wild, weird and wonderful ~ all the superlatives you’ve heard about Madonna’s latest effort ‘Madame X’ are true, and then some. Early indications were questionable, with some die-hard fans finding many (or all) of the pre-release songs lackluster ~ and truth be told they comprise some of the weaker cuts of the album. I happened to be one of the few who loved ‘Medellin’ as a lead-in to the gloriously insane soundscape that ‘Madame X’ ultimately conjures. The duet with Maluma, performed as a holographic party at this year’s Billboard Music Awards, was seen by some as an oddly-muted lead single, but it ushers in a brand-new Madonna, which at this point in her storied career is a major feat unto itself. ‘Madame X’ gives us not one new re-invention, but a dazzling array of personae within which Madonna moves with characteristically-chameleon-like sinew. Whereas image may have fueled past musical endeavors, this time around the look (and it’s an intriguing, multi-faceted, one-eyed siren of sinister sexiness and voluptuous mystique) trails the music in impact. (Take note of the fact that the amazing video for ‘Dark Ballet’ shows only a few seconds of Madonna, cloaked in black lace at that.)

As a whole, ‘Madame X’ functions quite thrillingly as a sonic roller-coaster fit for a scintillating summer. It will invariably be saddled with expectations and a world of social media viciousness, but if you listen to the music you’ll find that everything’s gonna be all right, because the music is more daring and different than anything she’s made in years. That doesn’t always make it better, but it makes itself relevant and meaningful in a three-decade body of work that suddenly feels like an albatross, especially for someone who wants to keep moving forward.

As ‘Medellin’ reaches its giddy release, Madonna invites the listener to take a trip, alternating Spanish lyrics with Maluma and setting the album off on its world-wide trajectory. From there, ‘Dark Ballet’ reveals disturbing hints of tension and unrest, tied up in an insane Tchaikovsky bit over which Madonna gives warning to various entities: “They think we’re not aware of their crimes. We know, but we’re just not ready to act.” Only two songs in, she’s already tried out about five distinctly different voices, from her husky whispered “Cha-cha-cha’s” to the almost-unrecognizably-robotized distortion of ‘Dark Ballet’ and she’s just getting started.

Beginning ‘God Control’ with what sounds like a forced jaw effect, we hear Madonna like we’ve never heard her before. She previously promised ‘I Don’t Give A Fuck’ in 2012’s ‘MDNA’ album, but here she really means it. Even long-time fans of her more daring songs may be surprised by how experimental she’s going with ‘Madame X’ ~ and after finally giving up on chasing past chart glory, there’s a new freedom at work here, even better than her brilliant ‘Rebel Heart’ opus. ‘God Control’ is a highlight, and a powerful encapsulation of this whole new Madonna: exuberant, experimental, and ecstatic in all six-plus minutes of its glory. “It’s a hustle!” she gleefully proclaims at the midpoint, channeling all the disco divas that ever were and ever will be. This glitzy frenzy just keeps building and building until you can envision the final pan-out of a club at its most collectively-throbbing climax, hand-clapping choral chanting transcendently rising to rapture. Beneath it all lurks some troubling commentary on us as a nation, but the music’s so good it almost doesn’t matter, further fueling its potent pack of mixed messages.

An old-world accordion opens the gorgeous ‘Crazy’ and finds Madonna vacillating between joy and despondency, finally and fittingly settling on a certain ambivalent self-empowerment. It’s a piece of pop sweetness ~ captivating melodies and Madonna’s hopeful and mournful delivery. She moves from the high coos of a teenager to the deeper-throated whispers of a very wise and world-weary woman.

‘Crave’ with Swae Lee is deceptively quiet, and it finds Madonna at her most vocally relaxed, cooing like Ariana Grande as skittering high-hats delicately underscore all the obsessive love at hand.

The variety of voices employed here is schizophrenic, but rather than turning things into a disjointed affair, they somehow work to create a cohesive tapestry with their disparate nature. ‘Madame X’ is a skilled shape-shifter, and to her credit Madonna manages to wear multiple hats without ever letting them wear her.

Things falter a bit on the uninspiring ‘Future’ and the dour ‘Killers Who Are Partying’ which quickly falls into Mama-Don’t-Preach muck, but they aren’t bad enough to mar the overall experience of ‘Madame X’, the rest is simply too challenging, too daring, too good. Listen to things pick up whenever Madonna gives in to her new muses, as in the percussive call and response of ‘Batuka’ and the enthralling ‘Come Alive’ ~ all cheeky “I don’t want to blend in, why do you want me to?” attitude like that New York City street urchin from the early 80’s. The new influences of Portugal find delicious fruit in ‘Faz Gostoso’, a rollicking bit of Portuguese aided and abetted by Anitta – irrefutable proof that a good dance song need not originate in the disco, or in English for that matter.

If you’re looking for the ultimate pre-game party-prep track, seek no further than ‘I Don’t Search, I Find’ which locates Madonna back at the apex of 90’s acid-house eleganza. Her icy voice defiantly laments, “There’s no rest for us in this world,” before she gives into the essence of the music, and, finally, enough love.

‘Looking For Mercy’ is a classic Madonna power ballad that grows and grows, ultimately moving beyond a bit of maddening repetition into a clear demonstration of Madonna’s vocal prowess ~ when she cries out for “somebody to teach me to love, somebody to help me rise above” it’s one of the most commanding demonstrations of how stirring her voice can be. ‘Madame X’ could have done with a few more of these moments, and after further listening they may reveal themselves. For now, this is a dense collection of songs that cements her role as artist above all else. More than singer, more than actress, more than movie-maker, more than Madame, Madonna has always and originally been an artist, because an artist is the only thing that can encompass all she hoped to be. ‘Madame X’ returns her to those experimental roots while revealing striking new facets and shadings of her musical legacy. It also marks a way of reconstructing a fractured world, and if the pieces don’t always fit perfectly back together there can be beauty in the cracks as well.

There is a darkness at work here, and ‘Madame X’ is reportedly a direct result of Madonna’s loneliness and search for friends in Lisbon, where meeting up with other musicians at late night jam sessions was a comfort in a strange land. The album is proof that only in music Madonna does find her truest home. We welcome her back from her journey, eager to hear tales of her adventures… and it all sounds absolutely exquisite.

{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.}

LOVE WITHOUT GUILT, LOVE WITHOUT DOUBT
LOVE WITHOUT GUILT, LOVE WITHOUT DOUBT
LOVE WITHOUT GUILT, LOVE WITHOUT DOUBT
REJECTION, LOVE WITHOUT DOUBT

Late fall 1994. We had passed the point where there might be a warm day here or there. The leaves had mostly fallen. Nothing could hold any heat. The first man I had ever kissed had dumped me and I didn’t even realize we were going out. Ignorance saves some hurt, but you only get a pass that first time, and sometimes not even then. My awakening to the fact that I was gay had begun and it was hardly reason for celebration.

I DON’T, DON’T CARE IF IT’S NOT RIGHT
TO HAVE YOUR ARMS AROUND ME
I WANT TO FEEL WHAT IT’S LIKE
TAKE ALL OF YOU INSIDE OF ME

(DON’T GO NEAR THE FIRE, DON’T GO IN THE DARK)
(DON’T GIVE IN TO YOUR DESIRE, ‘CAUSE HE’S GONNA BREAK YOUR HEART)
(LET GO, LET GO)

I’d been leaving campus and riding the commuter rail in to Boston to see him. Now I did it to see the places we’d gone and wallow in the misery of it. What else was November for, really? The gray days and dismal weather added to the melancholy. I relished it. All that was at Brandeis was a cold dorm high in a castle turret, shaped like a piece of pie, bound by painted cinder blocks, and a small row of high windows that made Boston look like a speck in the distance. At night that space glowed, offering hope and warning and bitterness. Madonna’s somewhat doleful ‘Bedtime Stories’ album offered a gauzy aural cocoon of sonic warmth – whether it was the loss of ‘Inside of Me’ or the brutal solitude of ‘Love Tried to Welcome Me’ or the saccharine-sweetness of ‘Take A Bow’. Along with ‘Sanctuary’, these were re-structured love songs dealing with loss and regret and the tricky aftermath of romance. It might have been all about ‘Survival’ but I wanted so much more. At the tender age of nineteen, I’d had my heart broken and had broken a couple of hearts as well. I used to pretend there was something worse about the latter, but that’s not true. Guilt is awful, but loss is worse. There’s no bonus for trying to gain sympathy if you’re the one who ended it.

IN YOUR EYES (IN YOUR EYES), FORBIDDEN LOVE
IN YOUR SMILE (IN YOUR SMILE), FORBIDDEN LOVE
IN YOUR KISS (IN YOUR KISS), FORBIDDEN LOVE
IF I HAD ONE WISH LOVE WOULD FEEL LIKE THIS (LOVE WOULD FEEL LIKE THIS)

“The love that dared not speak its name,” as Oscar Wilde so delicately described the proclivity of those of us who enjoyed sucking cock, was instilled with all the forbidden enticement and defiant decadence that had always left me fearful yet intrigued. There was no doubt I was gay – there never had been – but I’d done my best to stomp it out, to go for the girl and the white picket fence and the blasted nuclear family because it was all I knew to do. We lived in a different world then.

From the very first time I saw one of the older kids in our neighborhood strip off his shirt and jump into the pool, I knew. It was summer then – so much of our youth seems to take place in the summer – and the world was warm and happy and gay. He dove underwater, his muscles rippling in the dappled light of the pool-filtered sun, and I knew. Enthralled and intoxicated, I drank his image in like the sweetest nectar, and somehow it wasn’t even sexual yet, not that yearning. It was a want and desire that was innate and primal, it was from the very core of my being, the soul that had been born when I was born. I knew.

I KNOW THAT YOU’RE NO GOOD FOR ME
THAT’S WHY I FEEL I MUST CONFESS
WHAT’S WRONG IS WHY IT FEELS SO RIGHT
I WANT TO FEEL YOUR SWEET CARESS

He swam away, into the deep end, his pale skin so tantalizingly different from my own tan body, like some rare, elusive sea creature, some white whale forever unattainable and unassailable, and my eyes followed. Lost in a chlorine haze, blinded by sun and beauty, choking on the feeling and wanting to both laugh and cry, I stayed in the shallow end and waited for his return.

When he did, my brother and I cajoled him into playing with us – roughhousing, as the adults called it. He’d pick us up – each so light and easy in his hands – and fling us into the deep end, our little bodies flying into the air and crashing into the body of sky-blue water. It thrilled us. Not just the motion, but the giddy focus of an older person intent on thrilling us. For me, it was much more.

I’d swim back, dizzy and delirious from the sun, the water, the flight, and the fight to make it back to the surface. Circling his legs, I felt both like the shark sizing up prey, and the scattering prey itself, darting to avoid death. I didn’t know what I wanted, I only knew he entranced me. I’d wrap my arms around his thigh, brushing against his swimsuit, and he’d lift me up again and off I’d fly. I didn’t know what was better – the lift or the let-go. Or the time in the shallow water when I was close enough to smell his sunscreen and see the blue of his sparkling eyes and the way his blond hair went dark when wet.

IF I ONLY HAD ONE WISH
LOVE WOULD ALWAYS FEEL LIKE THIS
WISHING ON THE STARS ABOVE
FORBIDDEN LOVE
IF I ONLY HAD ONE DREAM
THIS WOULD BE MORE THAN IT SEEMS
FORBIDDEN LOVE (FORBIDDEN LOVE)

Summer fades quickly. So does youth. The pool filled with oak leaves, then acorns, then it was closed and dark. Buried in the muck and mess of the ensuing winters, my childhood disappeared. Now, in the impending winter that came at the end of 1994, I was alone again. Summer felt very far away. The neighborhood boy I had watched, worshipped, and held onto had long ago moved somewhere else.

Back then it seemed like figuring out I was gay was the answer to everything, and in some ways it was very much the solution to much of my angst and confusion. So many things suddenly made sense and fell into place, so many fears and worries and anxieties dissipated and dissolved. Once it was done, though, what was next? The notion of forbidden love had already been bound inextricably to who I was, that sense of shame would forever be part of me. In that cold, late fall, it felt like loneliness and heartbreak were all that followed. Still, better to have loved and lost…

(LOVE WITHOUT GUILT, LOVE WITHOUT DOUBT)
(LOVE WITHOUT GUILT, LOVE WITHOUT DOUBT)
REJECTION IS THE GREATEST APHRODISIAC

Was the forbidden nature of the societal constructs of same-sex attraction part of my inability to find love? Had the ingrained stereotypical confines of how the world viewed homosexuals bled so deeply into my being that they would be impossible to eradicate? Or was I simply unlovable? That last question was one which most people had at some point in their lives; the questions before are the added and much more complicated journey through which only some of us must travail. At such a young age, I couldn’t get my head around all of that – to be completely honest I’m not sure I can today – all I knew was the dull ache of unfulfilled desire, and the infuriating sense of loss when there had been nothing to really lose.

(LOVE WITHOUT GUILT, LOVE WITHOUT DOUBT)
LOVE SHOULD ALWAYS FEEL LIKE THIS
HEAVEN FORGIVE ME, NEVER FORBID ME

SONG #150: ‘Forbidden Love’ – Late fall 1994

{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.}

LET’S DANCE, YOU CAN DO A LITTLE TWO-STEP
I’LL GO ANYWHERE THAT YOU STEP TO, ‘CAUSE I’M FOLLOWING YOU.
MY FEET MIGHT BE FALLING OUT OF RHYTHM,
DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING WITH THEM, BUT I KNOW I’M FOLLOWING YOU.

I suppose I should be grateful that Part 1 came before Part 2, otherwise it might have been awkward. As it stands, this Madonna Timeline will prove difficult enough, so I’m going back to basics, reminding myself of what this blog feature was originally meant to be. An encapsulation of what was going on in my life when a certain Madonna song came to prominence – whether that was in the world, or in my private life. In this case, it will mostly be my own little memory, as ‘Now I’m Following You, Part 1’ made about as big an impact as ‘Now I’m Following You, Part 2’ – which is to say not much.

It formed the main lip-syncing portion of Madonna’s Blond Ambition tour, appearing in the Dick Tracy segment. The period feel of the music and innocence of the sentiment is all fully intact in Part 1. We’ll get to Part 2 in another timeline.

UNLIKELY AS IT IS TO ME, ON THE FLOOR WITH TWO LEFT FEET
LET’S BOOGIE WOOGIE TILL OUR HEARTS SKIP A BEAT, BUT WHO’S COUNTING?
ENCORE, ONCE AGAIN AROUND THE DANCE FLOOR
ROMANCE IS IN THE PICTURE TOO, NOW I’M FOLLOWING YOU.

TAKE IT AWAY, BOYS.

‘I’m Breathless: Music Form and Inspired by the Film Dick Tracy’ was released in the spring of 1990 – just as the movie was about to come out, and Madonna was riding high on the wings of ‘Vogue’ and the Blond Ambition Tour. It was one of the most iconic moments, following as it did on the heels of ‘Like A Prayer’ and presaging the sexiness of ‘Erotica’ to come. That spring melted into a hot and sultry summer. Sticky and humid like all upstate New York summers, when the air hung thickly with the sweet scent of mockorange and fringe tree. The decadence of ‘Vogue’ brought the masses to the showtunes of Stephen Sondheim, who helmed a trio of songs on the album, while Madonna and Patrick Leonard fashioned their own selection of convincing period music, which included ‘Now I’m Following You, Part 1.’

I loved that album – its moody theatrical bent combined my love of Broadway with my love of Madonna – and it came with me (in my mind only) when I visited the then-Soviet Union. Upon my return, I resumed its non-stop rotation.

Oh, I almost forgot the most notable part of this song – it’s a duet with Warren Beatty! What is Mr. Beatty doing singing on a Madonna song? La publicidad! And maybe some romance was actually in the picture too – who can say? Dick Tracy was a hit for both of them, even if it cost a lot to make, restoring some silver screen luster to Madonna’s rather rusty track record. Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, this appears to be a rather sweet period in Madonna’s career and romantic life. She was tottering on the verge of mainstream Disney approval, and maybe playing it so safely bothered her. She would eventually take the road less travelled, which is what most of us loved about her, leaving Disney in the dust and provoking the Gods of Sex into orgasmic, damning glory. But that was a year or two away. For now, they danced until the record skipped…

UNLIKELY AS IT IS TO ME, ON THE FLOOR WITH TWO LEFT FEET
LET’S BOOGIE WOOGIE TILL OUR HEARTS SKIP A BEAT, BUT WHO’S COUNTING?
ENCORE, ONCE AGAIN AROUND THE DANCE FLOOR
ROMANCE IS IN THE PICTURE TOO, NOW I’M FOLLOWING YOU.

OH DEAR…

SONG #149: ‘Now I’m Following You – Part 1’ ~ Summer 1990

{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 was autumn of 2002. Andy and I were on one of our fall trips to Ogunquit, Maine. I was browsing in an antique store when the proclamation came over the radio. Between an ancient case of costume jewelry and a box of plastic-covered sepia-toned movie posters, I paused as the announcement interrupted the music. America was going to war. It struck me how old-fashioned the world suddenly felt. Even though this was the era before FaceBook and Twitter and social media as we now ubiquitously know it, an emergency message over the radio felt like a nostalgic throwback to another time. The imminent war also heralded the return of American soldiers to losing their lives in such regularity that we would become numb to it.

By the time the spring of 2003 arrived, the country had reconciled itself to a fate that felt impossible to escape. Duped by the war-happy GOP-led administration, national pride in the aftermath of 9/11 led to all sorts of evil decisions and hapless public support. Despite the objections of sensible people, despite the unnecessary cost of a war based on unreliable data and outright lies, America embarked upon a War on Terror – a war which is being waged to this very day. Such was the battle-drawn background of Madonna’s ‘American Life’ album, and the scene into which the lead single of the same name was dropped.

DO I HAVE TO CHANGE MY NAME? 
WILL IT GET ME FAR? 
SHOULD I LOSE SOME WEIGHT? 
AM I GONNA BE A STAR?

Spring was in the air – it smelled of possibility, of hope, and of a new beginning. I had been working at the Thruway Authority in an office full of men – a far cry and another world away from the office I had left, which had been filled mostly with women. I had free parking about 50 feet from the building entrance and was able to drive myself to work – a luxury of independence that I both cherished and fought against. (It’s nice to be driven around, especially in the cruel cold of winter or the blazing heat of summer; coming out to a car parked in an unsheltered lot all day in either situation is a pain in the ass.)

I was somewhat new to the job, and as I moved up in my state career every fresh start would be familiar territory, though never comfortable. It’s tough to be the new guy in the office, especially in your early 20’s. Shot through with insecurity, I leaned on my go-to inspiration for all those times when an extra dose of confidence was needed: Madonna. Her new album was being released, and after the block-buster success of her last musical endeavor, the ‘Music‘ album, it seemed she was ripe for a full-on embrace of Mirwais, the French electro-pop genius whose stuttering, vocoder-heavy work was the sound of the future.

I TRIED TO BE A BOY, 
I TRIED TO BE A GIRL 
I TRIED TO BE A MESS, 
I TRIED TO BE THE BEST 
I GUESS I DID IT WRONG, 
THAT’S WHY I WROTE THIS SONG 
THIS TYPE OF MODERN LIFE – IS IT FOR ME? 
THIS TYPE OF MODERN LIFE – IS IT FOR FREE?

Once upon a time, controversy meant nothing but success for Madonna. Think the ‘Like A Virgin‘ scandal, the ‘Papa Don’t Preach‘ maelstrom, the’Like A Prayer‘ explosion, the ‘Justify My Love‘ brouhaha, the ‘Erotica‘ album and ‘Sex‘ book – all of them were controversial and sometimes polarizing, and all were more or less splashy successes. (Even if some were critically drubbed, all of them made Madonna a pretty penny.)

When ‘American Life’ came on the scene, at such a questionable time of war and American pride, it found Madonna uncharacteristically pulling the video to avoid the commercial death of the Dixie Chicks who had had the audacity to criticize President Bush. The mind reels at such an innocent thought. Madonna made a wise decision in that respect, but the damage had been done, and mainstream radio turned on her, and has yet to really come back. Strangely enough, the song ‘American Life’ is not, in itself, overtly political. Madonna herself hasn’t always been broadly political – she’s usually followed the egotist’s path of being personally political. Despite its outward trappings and video, the song is more of a personal exploration of Madonna’s own way of living in the American landscape, seen at a different vantage point after having spent some time in England.

SO, I WENT INTO A BAR LOOKING FOR SYMPATHY 
A LITTLE COMPANY – I TRIED TO FIND A FRIEND 
IT’S MORE EASILY SAID IT’S ALWAYS BEEN THE SAME 
THIS TYPE OF MODERN LIFE – IS IT FOR ME? 
THIS TYPE OF MODERN LIFE – IS IT FOR FREE? 

In retrospect, the album has shifted and evolved in how it was, and has been, received and perceived. Initial reviews were, generally, positive. As is my wont, I raved and raptured over it, proclaiming it Madonna’s electronic pastoral, and most of the songs still hold up quite well. But after the first flush of fleeting success (it debuted at #1) and an impressive round of promotional appearances (witness her record store performances and that MTV special) it quickly plummeted, and the lead single barely cracked the top forty. Much of the problematic stuff and negative reports stemmed from the â’American Life’ single, which was blazingly wonky and brilliantly imperfect. Most people panned the rap portion of the song; I found it charming enough (she rapped in ‘Vogue’ too and no one batted a perfectly-shaded eye). The juxtaposition of electro-clash noise with the gentle strumming of an acoustic guitar proved too much for listeners and were perhaps just too far ahead of their time.

AMERICAN LIFE 
I LIVE THE AMERICAN DREAM 
YOU ARE THE BEST THING I’VE SEEN, 
YOU ARE NOT JUST A DREAM

Hindsight and factual reports of those early years of the new millennium reveal the terrifying depth to which the American public was so criminally deceived by the Republicans in power. It was over a decade and a half ago, but so much rings so true today. It’s exhausting and disappointing to think of how little we have evolved, and how the basic tenets of evil – fear, greed, and a desire for power – continue to coalesce and corrupt our world. In this age of our illegitimate President, the American ambition portrayed in this song is indeed not just a dream.

I TRIED TO STAY AHEAD,
I TRIED TO STAY ON TOP 
I TRIED TO PLAY THE PART,
BUT SOMEHOW I FORGOT 
JUST WHAT I DID IT FOR 
AND WHY I WANTED MORE 
THIS TYPE OF MODERN LIFE – IS IT FOR ME? 
THIS TYPE OF MODERN LIFE – IS IT FOR FREE?

That said, politics rarely makes for good music. Not the kind I’m interested in hearing anyway. I need something more personal, more resonant to the human experience. To that end, ‘American Life’ is masterful, portraying the seeds of doubt and insecurity that can lead to world domination or oblivion. There’s a dangerously fine line between them. When removed from its incendiary video, the song is rife with self-doubt and tension. Just when you think it might resolve or dissolve into something resembling resolution, the sonic swords strike again, musical guns on blast, and the battle for dominance re-engages.

DO I HAVE TO CHANGE MY NAME? 
WILL IT GET ME FAR? 
SHOULD I LOSE SOME WEIGHT? 
AM I GONNA BE A STAR? 
AMERICAN LIFE 
I LIVE THE AMERICAN DREAM 
YOU ARE THE BEST THING I’VE SEEN, 
YOU ARE NOT JUST A DREAM

Coming off of two successful albums (‘Ray of Light‘ and ‘Music‘) Madonna found herself at an interesting cross-road. Rather than playing things safe, she dove deeper into the brilliant madness of Mirwais and his musical mayhem, fully embracing the producer’s futuristic hand while tempering it all with her growing guitar obsession. In that sense, the ‘American Life’ album was an artistically bold move. The title track and lead single encapsulated all of it. There was a decent beat, once it kicked it, and the dance remixes would bounce along at racing BPM, but the song and the album weren’t made for dancing. America wasn’t in the mood to dance, and neither was Madonna.

I TRIED TO BE A BOY,
I TRIED TO BE A GIRL 
I TRIED TO BE A MESS,
I TRIED TO BE THE BEST 
I TRIED TO FIND A FRIEND, 
I TRIED TO STAY AHEAD 
I TRIED TO STAY ON TOP…

FUCK IT… 
DO I HAVE TO CHANGE MY NAME? 
WILL IT GET ME FAR? 
SHOULD I LOSE SOME WEIGHT? 
AM I GONNA BE A STAR?

FUCK IT. FUCK IT. FUCK IT.

In the ensuing years, the ‘American Life’ album has ripened into a fan favorite, revered along the lines of ‘Erotica’ which also had a rocky journey to its classic status. In her ‘Tears of a Clown’ codas near the end of the ‘Rebel Heart Tour‘ she revisited a number of ‘American Life’ selections, including ‘Intervention‘ and ‘Easy Ride‘ and fans were ecstatic. After the Reinvention Tour, she had largely steered clear of ‘American Life’ cuts, and she has yet to embrace the title song since that first flush in 2003/2004. It’s worth another look, if only because it’s unlike anything she’s done before or since, especially the next part:

I’M DRINKING A SOY LATTE 
I GET A DOUBLE SHOTTE
IT GOES RIGHT THROUGH MY BODY 
AND YOU KNOW 
I’M SATISFIED,
I DRIVE MY MINI COOPER 
AND I’M FEELING SUPER-DOOPER 
YO THEY TELL I’M A TROOPER 
AND YOU KNOW I’M SATISFIED 

At some point we all mentally run through the things we’ve accumulated and accomplished in our lives. This exercise of nostalgia or simple stock-taking can be exhausting or inspiring, depending on the mood and the way in which we want to quantify anything we’ve done. Madonna’s tick-list is larger and grander and more eventful than the majority of ours, but it’s also remarkably human and mundane. Her concerns are at once small and significant, superficial and complex, contradictory and consistent. From Mini Coopers to Metaphysics, she runs through the gamut of life at the turn of the millennium. Looking back, we’ve been on this rocky road for a long time – too long – and the cracks and pot-holes have grown exponentially disastrous.

I DO YOGA AND PILATES 
AND THE ROOM IS FULL OF HOTTIES 
SO I’M CHECKING OUT THE BODIES 
AND YOU KNOW I’M SATISFIED 
I’M DIGGING ON THE ISOTOPES 
THIS METAPHYSIC SHIT IS DOPE 
AND IF ALL THIS CAN GIVE ME HOPE 
YOU KNOW I’M SATISFIED 

On some level she knows her laundry list is ridiculous, and there is more than a little wink behind the infamous rap. It’s over-the-top, it’s too much, it’s silly and it’s profound. It’s what she knows, in all the limited and expansive glory that is Madonna’s world. It inspires neither envy nor empathy. America was messy then, as it’s messy now. Maybe it’s always been that way. Anyone who makes a success of themselves in this land has had to get messy at one point or another. As she runs through her accomplishments and accruals, things get more frenzied and insistent before finishing with a nihilistic revoking of the reality/realization that all is illusion.

I GOT A LAWYER AND A MANAGER 
AN AGENT AND A CHEF 
THREE NANNIES, AN ASSISTANT 
AND A DRIVER AND A JET 
A TRAINER AND A BUTLER 
AND A BODYGUARD OR FIVE 
A GARDENER AND A STYLIST 
DO YOU THINK I’M SATISFIED?
I’D LIKE TO EXPRESS MY EXTREME POINT OF VIEW 
I’M NOT A CHRISTIAN AND I’M NOT A JEW 
I’M JUST LIVING OUT THE AMERICAN DREAM 
AND I JUST REALIZED THAT NOTHING IS WHAT IT SEEMS 

Still, dreams are requisite ways of getting through the day, American or not. Yes, the idea of a Ice Blue Show Princess Mini Cooper was sewn in my head then, but it was only a wish. My Kicky Blue Gumdrop Impreza would go a couple more years, and the ‘American Life’ CD would ring loudly from within as spring warmed into summer. As soon as the rap fizzled and the electro-explosions faded out, the birds of ‘Hollywood‘ flew into the air. We bopped along to the music of Mirwais, seeking our next acquisition, our next fix, our next material obsession.

The world was on fire and all we could do was watch it burn.

DO I HAVE TO CHANGE MY NAME?
AM I GONNA BE A STAR?
DO I HAVE TO CHANGE MY NAME?
AM I GONNA BE A STAR? 
DO I HAVE TO CHANGE MY NAME?

SONG #148: ‘American Life’ – Spring 2003