I’ve seen the devil
Down Sunset
In every place
In every face…
Leave it to Madonna to continue the summer song vibe with this record-breaking return to the charts, along with The Weeknd and Playboi Carti. It’s easy and breezy and ideal for the summer season, the sort of song that percolates gently, easing into a sunny morning. Do I care about the lyrics? About as much as I care to be popular. This is just about the groove, the vibe, the languid shuffling movement that feels like slow-motion swimming, the only way to get away from the heat right there on the surface.
Tell me, do you see her? She’s livin’ her life
Even if she acts like she don’t want the limelight
But if you knew her, she lives a lie
She calls the paparazzi, then she acts surprised
Oh-oh-oh-oh, I know what she needs
She just want the fame, I know what sh? fiends
Give her a littl? taste, runnin’ back to me
Put it in her veins, pray her soul to keep,
Ooh-ooh, every night (Every night)
She prays to the sky
Flashin’ lights is all she ever wants to see
A summer vibe then – the summer of ’23 – too soon to tell what it will become, too early to feel how it will end. Pass the iced tea. Let’s have tomato sandwiches for lunch, the kind that turn the mayonnaise pink, the pretty mess dripping down our fingers. Even the bees are welcome to a taste.
The heat is high. The canopy does little to shield us from that. A hyacinth bean twirls its dark purple vines around a trellis, a clump of nasturtiums shading its base. Summer winds around itself now, heat building on heat, and a line of sweat drips down my chest, tickling and causing me to look down to make sure it’s not a bug. A salt lick for the horse inside of all of us.
Beggin’ on her knees to be popular
That’s her dream, to be popular (Hey)
Kill anyone to be popular (Hm)
Sell her soul to be popular (Popular)
Just to be popular (Uh-huh)
Everybody scream ’cause she popular (Hey)
She mainstream ’cause she popular
Never be free ’cause she popular
Summer shade in a song, summer secrets held too long. Lounging by the pool, sunglasses hiding where my gaze might fall, I know the seductive pull of the sunny season. It’s California and Florida balled up and thrown into a sea of flames. It’s light and water and dancing across the surface. It’s sitting as still as possible to remain as cool as possible as if that were remotely possible. The conundrum of summer – like the queasiness of Sunday night – is impenetrable and impossible. That’s why we had Sunday tea dances, why we braved the bridges to bear down on Provincetown, why we pinned our hopes and dreams on that one perfect swimsuit that would bring all the boys to the yard. Summer was the infuriating and tantalizing tease that the most diabolical devil couldn’t conjure even at his cruelest turn.
I know that you see me, time’s gone by
Spent my whole life runnin’ from your flashin’ lights
Try to own it, but I’m alright
You can’t take my soul without a fuckin’ fight
