Category Archives: Madonna

Madonna: The Rebel Heart Tour Review

Madonna: Rebel Heart Tour

September 26, 2015 — TD Banknorth Boston

She stands there, resplendent in the Bob Mackie gown she wore to the 1991 Oscar ceremony, looking every inch the superstar, dripping in diamonds, her bright blond hair glowing like a halo around her. Those blue eyes twinkle as she shimmies and shakes, and only when the camera pulls away slightly do we see that she is caged. A metal screen holds her back, framing her legendary body. Bumping and grinding, she shakes her booty just as she did at the end of that legendary 1991 Oscar appearance.

But all is not well, as the stomping of soldiers and the brutality of actions results in a bruised and battered Madonna, her gown sullied and her diamonds encrusted with blood. Is this what the world has done to her, or what she has done to herself, her image, her entire history?

She is beaten down, bloodied and left for dead at the hands of masked soldiers.

She waits to be rescued but it’s not a knight in shining armor who comes to her aid, it’s Madonna herself in flowing ‘Ray of Light’ hair, suited up in black fight gear, racing and leading a group of soldiers to the start of a revolution. That’s always been her way – saving herself and not counting on a man, or a woman, or anyone other than her own multitude of selves.

The battle cry of the ‘Rebel Heart Tour’ has been sounded, and the clarion of ‘Iconic’ sees her descending and breaking out of a metal cage that deposits her in the center of the maelstrom. She begins as Woman Warrior, dispensing cross wielding samurai with assured ease. Her own bulky get-up of red streaked with black is also soon dispensed, revealing an elegant black brocade dress for the polarizing ‘Bitch I’m Madonna’ and early hit ‘Burning Up‘ (for which she also plays a mean electric guitar).

Costumes and choreography are the mainstay of any proper Madonna show, and this evening finds her making clever use of a multi-song strip-down that ends with a sheer nun-inspired look for ‘Holy Water‘ – arguably the most controversial portion of the show. In all fairness, it’s pretty benign, even if it does find Madonna pole-dancing with scantily-clad nun figures. Getting beyond that, though, it also provides the evening’s seminal set-piece: a last supper brought to thrilling life. The image is an indelible one, and it fittingly segues into ‘Vogue’ because, well, didn’t Jesus Christ himself strike the most iconic pose of all? There are no such crucifixion scenes here, and after pushing the envelope (a phrase seemingly crafted for the sole purpose of Madonna) she comes to a new salvation in ‘Devil Pray’.

A ghostly interlude of ‘Messiah’ finds one of her back-up dancers working some serious performance art, and when Madonna returns things take a brighter, if bluer, turn with the 50’s garage-themed exuberance of ‘Body Shop’. As she did on her ‘Rebel Heart’ album, Madonna manages to reconcile her rebel and romantic sides for perhaps the first time in her career. Up until now it’s usually been one or the other, with varying results for each. (For every rebellious ‘Like A Prayer‘ or ‘Erotica‘ moment there was a softer ‘Evita‘ or ‘Bedtime Stories.’) On this tour, she melds those often-opposing views into a cohesive look back (and, as ever, forward) on the duality that has made her such a transfixing icon.

The heart of the show may be her sweetly-earnest rendition of ‘True Blue’ on which she plays the ukulele. Many of us fans never thought we’d see the day she’d sing the title track of the album to which she dedicated and so generously doted on first husband Sean Penn, but here it was, transformed into an unsaid ode to those fans who have stood by her in the very truest of blue manners. Equally-pleasing was the racing performance of ‘Deeper and Deeper’ which finds her breaking things down in a West-Side-Story-meets-Michael-Jackson moment of choreographic bliss.

Madonna’s ambivalence of love has always been one of her most interesting features, and the arrival of the melancholy mash-up of ‘Heartbreak City’ and ‘Love Don’t Live Here Anymore’ is one of the more dramatic, and assuredly mature, moments of the whole show. Yet getting over heartbreak is what Madonna has done in repeatedly fine fashion; here she does so in an infectiously-retro romp through ‘Like A Virgin’ finding that shiny and new feeling for the umpteenth time. It’s a simple yet effective crown-pleaser, a throwback to the girl who giddily danced and sang all by her lonesome while the rest of the world watched in flummoxed fascination.

An immense cape seems to run the length of the entire extended stage, and Madonna throws it off before diving into an unfortunately choppy version of ‘Living For Love‘. For those who recall her cape-inflicted fall from a stage, this is a triumphant return, indicative of what Madonna has espoused over and over: the ability to get right back up from any fall. It wouldn’t be a Madonna tour without a damn performance of ‘La Isla Bonita‘, but this time it works as a lead-in for the flamenco-tinged outfits and musical slant of a majestic mash-up. This one runs through some of her earliest and most beloved hits – ‘Dress You Up‘, ‘Lucky Star‘, ‘Into the Groove‘ – given a slowed down but still-smoldering flamenco spin.

It’s the perfect personification of this tour: a magical warm-hearted amalgamation of a multitude of countries – China, Japan, Mexico, Spain, France, and of course America. It’s a tour for the world, for a multi-generational cross section of humanity which Madonna has somehow always managed to unite – in adoration, in exasperation, in inspiration. When she dives into her 1987 #1 hit ‘Who’s That Girl’ (which most Madonna fans figured we’d never hear live) accompanied only by a guitar, it’s an astounding moment of introspection served up to the world. Standing near the edge of her heart-shaped stage, she moves into a joyously-nostalgic performance of ‘Rebel Heart’ while artwork by her fans plays on an enormous video behind her. Simple stuff, but powerful as hell when you listen to the lyrics and think about how far she has come – and how far all of us who have been on this journey have come.

For the final segment of the evening, an art-deco flapper send-off that finds Madonna dripping in sparkling crystals, all elegance and showgirl sexiness as she begins a slow-burn intro to the now-classic ‘Music’ – it soon revs up into a high-octane ‘Smooth Criminal’ scene. An unnecessary re-hash of one of her weaker songs, ‘Candy Shop‘ gets some extra flapper attention here, but it’s a shimmering straight-up almost ballad-like rendition of ‘Material Girl‘ that truly shines.

On this day, her son David turned ten, and he was the surprise ‘Unapologetic Bitch‘ of the evening. As such, he showed some serious dance moves before Madonna paused in her usual banter, foregoing the usual litany of ‘fucks’ at that point, and, in charmingly awkward mother-son fashion, explained to him that sometimes it’s ok to swear if it’s in a song. Later she dedicates a vocally-precious version of ‘La Vie en Rose’ to him. It is a rare and thrilling unguarded moment where the mother kicked in, and it was both startling and heartwarming to see this woman whom we’ve watched kick ass and take no prisoners for sentimental bullshit taking off her armor. That’s what this Woman Warrior is doing with her Rebel Heart tour. She’s still an ass-kicking renegade, but underneath it all she’s human. It’s that Madonna – the only Madonna – who rules and slays and loves – whom I’ve adored for 30 years. It seems the rest of the world is finally catching on.

 

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The Rebel Heart Tour Set List

Tomorrow I will post my long-overdue review of Madonna’s ‘Rebel Heart Tour’ (from her September 26, 2015 Boston date) but before we get down to that serious business, here’s another preview: the set-list of that glorious tour. For those songs that have been featured on the Madonna Timeline, click the links and enjoy.

  1. Iconic

2)  Bitch I’m Madonna

3)  Burning Up

4)  Holy Water/Vogue

5)  Devil Pray

6)  Messiah

7)  Body Shop

8)  True Blue

9)  Deeper & Deeper

10)  Heartbreak City/Love Don’t Live Here Anymore

11)  Like A Virgin

12) S.E.X.

13) Living For Love

14) La Isla Bonita

15) Dress You Up/Into the Groove/Lucky Star

16) Who’s That Girl

17) Rebel Heart

18) Illuminati

19) Music

20) Candy Shop

21) Material Girl

22) La Vie En Rose

23) Unapologetic Bitch

24) Holiday

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Preamble of the Heart

I’m a woman.
“Come on, baby.”
“Shake it for us, baby.”
“Do that dance you do so well for us, baby.”
Ok.
But I still want to start a revolution. Somebody’s got to.
 
There’s too much beauty in the world going to waste.
Too much talent going unnoticed.
Too much creativity being crushed beneath the wheel of corporate branding and what’s trending.
But it’s time to wake up.
 
I looked into the eyes of people and I saw helplessness.
I saw hopelessness.
I saw humans searching for a way out. 
 
Because when those Fascist dictators posing as righteous men come for you with their big leather boots to shut you up, to put a gag in your mouth, you better be prepared to fight for what you believe in.
You better be prepared to die for what you believe in.
I want to start a revolution.
Are you with me?
     ~ MADONNA, REBEL HEART TOUR INTRO

It’s been a long time coming, but soon I will post my review for Madonna’s Rebel Heart Tour, which will air on Showtime next month. This is a quick preview of that epic production, and a reminder of what can still inspire me.
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Coming Out Of My Sexual Shell

“I’ll teach you how to fuck,” she promised both in song and on paper.

It was October 1992, and Madonna was staking her sexual claim across the globe. Who was I to resist? At the time, my fandom was at its earliest height, and ever since then she has barely been able to do a wrong. Back then, I needed her for something more important than entertainment or amusement: I needed her to survive. In addition, I needed her to break through my shyness and social inhibition, and to help me bust out of the constraints of a conservative Catholic upbringing. All of those issues would end up killing me if I continued in my misguided beliefs, and deep down I knew that.

I was ripe for a sexual awakening, even if I didn’t know whether that would be at the hands of a man or woman, and as Madonna’s ‘Erotica’ album was casting its spell and putting me in a trance, I felt the stirrings of desire and carnal longing. As candles burned and fall winds blew, I conjured my own brew of prayers and wishes, and the hope that the secrets of sex would soon reveal themselves.

It was still such a mystery to me: slightly dangerous, slightly comical, slightly repellent, but supremely enticing. My body reacted to the sight of shirtless men while my mind thrilled to the notion of vulnerability – and as strange as it sounds the male always seemed more vulnerable than the female in my warped sense of of the world. We wore our sex on the outside, unprotected and swinging in the air, easily prone to attack or seduction.

A song like ‘Erotica’ burned red-hot and brazenly; a cut like ‘Rain‘ tripped the lights blue and fantastic. The entire ‘Erotica’ album was a rainbow of aural textures and sextures, each a little story in itself – tales of seduction and carnality as much as love and self-exploration. Coupled with the ‘Sex’ book, it was a project of sexual expression that played with the topic – sometimes coyly, sometimes overtly – and in such an extreme self-display of naked un-inhibition that it culminated in one of the most unpopular periods of Madonna’s career.

There was a wicked little lesson in that too: if you had ‘Sex’ you would get punished. She fought it against it, and ultimately so would I… but not quite yet. Though I would dip my dick in men and women soon enough, back then I kept it all to myself. I flipped the pages of ‘Sex’ and listened to the moans of ‘Erotica’ and dreamt of the day when I would share it with another.

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The Ride Home

Driving in the fall when it’s sunny out is a pleasure that seems largely underestimated these days. When so much entertainment and distraction is at hand on phones and other devices, we seem to be losing the joy in a simple ride through the changing foliage of New England. I’ll never lose touch with that, however, and when given the opportunity I’ll relish these days when all I have a drive ahead of me, and a destination where I can settle in for the night. Home is to be found where one feels comfortable enough to rest a weary pair of eyes, or relax into a state of unguarded ease. Boston and Albany provide both to me.

On this particular day, making my way from Cape Cod back to the Capital District, the sky is slightly hazy, but sections of sun shine through. It’s a ‘Bedtime Stories’ kind of day, and my mind returns to the fall of 1994, when Madonna released her most autumn-like album. Though ‘Erotica’ actually experiences its anniversary this week (bang-up sex-post coming tomorrow) this drive demands a quieter, softer soundtrack. Here are a few links to the ‘Bedtime Stories’ cuts that have already been written about on the Madonna Timeline:

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #132 ~ ‘Devil Pray’ – Winter/Spring 2015

{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.}

A stand-out track from Madonna’s most recent ‘Rebel Heart’ album, ‘Devil Pray’ intertwines drugs, booze, religion, and faith into one folksy sing-along, somewhat reminiscent of ‘House of the Rising Sun’ and unlike anything she’s done before. Surprisingly spiritual, melodically accessible, and as fun to sing as it is rich to ruminate upon, this is classic Madonna, over three decades into her reign.

TAKE MY SINS AND WASH THEM AWAY

TEACH ME HOW TO PRAY

I’VE BEEN STRANDED HERE IN THE DARK

TAKE THESE WALLS AWAY

 

I’VE BEEN SWIMMING IN THE OCEAN

‘TIL I’M ALMOST DROWNED

GIVE ME SOMETHING I CAN BELIEVE IN

TEACH ME HOW TO PRAY

At the end of the winter of 2015, I drive along the Massachusetts turnpike. Dirty snow, but not a lot of it, winds along the edge of the road, and gritty salt and mud spray coats the front of the Ice Blue Show Queen. We are both a little tattered at the end of the winter, both in need of escape. She longs for a sunny day in the driveway with Andy, I long for a similar day behind the house and beside the pool. Each of us pines for something just beyond our grasp, but at the tail end of the forlorn season neither expects much.

AND WE CAN DO DRUGS AND WE CAN SMOKE WEED AND WE CAN DRINK WHISKEY

YEAH, WE CAN GET HIGH AND WE CAN GET STONED

AND WE CAN SNIFF GLUE AND WE CAN DO E AND WE CAN DROP ACID

FOREVER BE LOST WITH NO WAY HOME

 

YEAH, WE CAN RUN AND WE CAN HIDE

BUT WE WON’T FIND THE ANSWERS

IF YOU GO DOWN THEN YOU’LL GET HELP ALONG THE WAY

BUT IF YOU WANT TO SAVE YOUR SOUL

THEN WE COULD TRAVEL ALTOGETHER

AND MAKE THE DEVIL PRAY

In Boston, candles flicker in the condo, their reflection mingling with the patches of snow seen beyond the window on Braddock Park. One reaches the end of its life, quietly expiring in a thin wisp of smoke. It smells like winter; spring is not yet in the air. Hunkering down with a cup of hot green tea, I sit on the couch and open a book, enjoying the simple luxury of the moment, waiting for the winter to go.

MOTHER MARY CAN’T YOU HELP ME

‘CAUSE I’VE GONE ASTRAY

ALL THE ANGELS THAT WERE AROUND ME

HAVE ALL FLOWN AWAY

 

THE GROUND BENEATH MY FEET’S GETTING WARMER

LUCIFER IS NEAR

HOLDING ON, BUT I’M GETTING WEAKER

WATCH ME DISAPPEAR

My mind wanders back to Brandeis, to a small pool of water in the midst of three houses of worship. Founded on the principles of diversity and freedom of religion, Brandeis ensured that each sanctuary offered a suitable space for its disciples. As a Catholic, I stepped into the church and sat in the last pew, kneeling down as I made the sign of the cross. In a state of loneliness tinged with some slight homesickness, it was a way of reconnecting to my life at home.

Outside, the morning is pretty, filled with a low September sun that was just starting to burn away the fog. When I exit the church, my eyes need a moment to adjust to the light.

I will attend Sunday services only a few more times. My homesickness will soon abate, my loneliness will travel with me for life, and I will come to understand that God can be by my side at all times. That sanctuary opened up to me when I was a little kid, squirming around on the cool, cruel hardness of the dark-stained wooden pews of St. Mary’s church, and I realized that God didn’t require the ritual and the confinement, and certainly not when one was a child. I knew too, however, that my parents did need that tradition, out of superstition or blind faith, and even at that young age I knew that the way through, in the easiest way possible, was to pretend certain things. So I sat upright again, my feet dangling over the wood, my hands cupping a violet I’d picked from the back yard and brought now as an offering to Jesus.

AND WE CAN DO DRUGS AND WE CAN SMOKE WEED AND WE CAN DRINK WHISKEY

YEAH, WE CAN GET HIGH AND WE CAN GET STONED

AND WE CAN SNIFF GLUE AND WE CAN DO E AND WE CAN DROP ACID

FOREVER BE LOST WITH NO WAY HOME

Shifting back to Boston, like walking to a different stained-glass tableaux, we revisit the end of winter. My book has been closed as my mind recalls those September Sundays at school. There is comfort in those memories, even as they are rife with tension and unresolved issues. One can’t return to certain moments with impunity and safety. Memories carry always the risk of forgotten agony and hidden heartache. Tonight, however, the risk has no unintended or ill consequences. Tonight, it is simply the return to a simpler time.

YEAH, WE CAN RUN AND WE CAN HIDE

BUT WE WON’T FIND THE ANSWERS

IF YOU GO DOWN THEN YOU’LL GET HELP ALONG THE WAY

BUT IF YOU WANT TO SAVE YOUR SOUL

THEN WE COULD TRAVEL ALTOGETHER

AND MAKE THE DEVIL PRAY

The next day, I return to the Massachusetts Turnpike, still bordered by brown snow, still dirty and dismal, and drive back to Albany. I sing along with Madonna as she tells her story. I think of all the places we’ve been together. I think about where we might go next.

OOOH SING HALLELUJAH

OOOH SAVE MY SOUL

OOOH THE DEVIL’S HERE TO FOOL YA

UNTIL MY STORY’S TOLD

SONG #132: ‘Devil Pray’ – Winter/Spring 2015

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A Peek at the Devil to Come

A dry, dusty road throws clouds into the air whenever a car or truck speeds by.

The barren stretch of scorched earth expands endlessly.

Is this where the world begins, or ends?

Worn wood creaks beneath each step, groaning for the insult to injury of such dire surroundings, such repetitive beatings.

If the devil lives, here would be a good place to find him.

In a few hours, the Madonna Timeline returns, and it’s going to be a devil of a good time. Some of Madonna’s best work comes when she confronts her own relationship with religion and spirituality. Witness the majestic heights of ‘Like A Prayer‘ and the plaintive beauty of ‘Messiah‘, or the delicate yearning of ‘Pray for Spanish Eyes‘ and the choral climax of ‘Nothing Fails.’ Even lesser pieces like ‘Holy Water‘ and ‘Act of Contrition‘ have their hidden merits. Madonna has a God complex, and it’s a gorgeous thing to behold. Coming up next…

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #131 – ‘Freedom’ ~ Spring 2004

{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.}

Created during the ‘Bedtime Stories’ sessions, this song was not included in that final funkified R&B slow-swing album, probably for its rather demo-like feel and lack of focus. It was officially released as part of Madonna’s ‘American Life’ follow-up remix EP (the most eclectic and puzzling release ever). It actually would have worked fine as a filler fodder on the original 1994 release, which found Madonna at one of her most casual and carefree musical moments, because it sounds out of place next to almost everything else she’s done (especially the remixed versions of the ‘American Life’ tracks). But no one says no to Madonna, so she had it on.

“NO” IS JUST A WORD
THAT PEOPLE SAY WHEN THEY’RE AFRAID
AND IF YOU SAY “NO” TO ME
THEN I WILL FIGHT YOU TILL I’M FREE

SAY FREEDOM, BROTHERHOOD
JUSTICE, JUST SAY “YES”
SAY FREEDOM, BROTHERHOOD
JUSTICE, JUST SAY “YES”

It’s mostly a rough musical riff or two, stripped down to a couple of guitars and Madonna’s lofty platitudes broken down into simplified cries of “freedom” and “brotherhood” and “justice” – and all of it boils down into a not-so-promising and completely-unfulfilling musical doodle. Bogged down by the whole “justice” angle, this is not one of my favorites.

‘CAUSE “NO” IS JUST A WORD
THAT PEOPLE SAY WHEN THEY CAN’T COPE
AND IF YOU SAY “NO” TO ME
THEN I WILL FIGHT YOU TILL I’M FREE

SONG #131: ‘Freedom’ – Spring 2004

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She Gives Me Fever

The birthday girl gets a red-hot post for the mid-day hour. Here are a few of her hotter timeline entries:

She gave us ‘Fever‘…

Nothing like a good spanky…

It will burn inside of me…

Warm wind carried on the sea, called to me…

Candy kisses and a sunny day…

Jumping in the pool and swimming with our clothes on…

That little fire is still alive in me…

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Birthday Fit For The Queen

 The Ministry of Madge-ic should have decreed this an International Holiday many years ago, but until such time as sense prevails, we will unofficially celebrate the birth of our majestic muse, Madonna Louise Veronica Ciccone, on this day of our Lord, August 16.

Madonna means many things to me, and while my fandom has matured and cooled over the years, it’s also solidified into something reliably fun, endlessly engaging, and perennially interesting. She still elicits the same thrill I felt decades ago when a new song or album was due to be released, the same joy I feel when revisiting her extensive and exquisite back catalog, and the same wonder at very new endeavor she deigns to attempt.

The First Hundred entries of the Madonna Timeline have already been contained with these two posts: Retrospective One and Retrospective Two. It’s been a while since we recapped the ones that came afterward, however, so here is the collection of entries 100 through now. We are not quite at the end (may it never come) but we’re approaching the last quarter of those songs currently lodged in my iTunes account. A few classic gems have yet to be excavated (the entries for ‘Vogue’ and ‘Express Yourself’ haven’t been written) so some good stuff is still on the horizon. In the meantime, here’s a quick link-back to the last thirty entries. Happy birthday, M.

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THE MADONNA TIMELINE: SONG #130 ~ ‘BEST NIGHT’ – SPRING 2015

{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.}

Why this plotting thud wasn’t excised and replaced with something like ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ on the otherwise mostly brilliant ‘Rebel Heart‘ album is beyond me, but here it is. A filler track at best, ‘Best Night’ is Madonna at her laziest, both musically and lyrically.

There’s really nothing more to say, but this is far from her ‘Best.’

YOU CAN CALL ME ‘M’ TONIGHT

YOU CAN BE MY MAN TONIGHT…

SONG #130: ‘Best Night’ – Spring 2015

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #129 – ‘Pray For Spanish Eyes’ ~ Fall 1991

{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.}

Smoke hung in the air, gray like everything at that time of the year. Somewhere, someone was burning leaves. It was already November, and fire would inform everything for the next few months. In summer we smolder; in winter we burn. Though the ‘Like A Prayer’ album had been out for two years, I was just getting into the deep cuts, and ‘Pray For Spanish Eyes’ came on the walk-man as I raked up the oak leaves in our endless backyard.

I KNOW FOR SURE HIS HEART IS HERE WITH ME

THOUGH I WISH HIM BACK I KNOW HE CANNOT SEE

MY HAND’S TREMBLING, I KNOW HE HEARS ME SING.

The earth was dry, which was best for raking and bagging, and all life had died back in the frosts and frigid nights of the weeks before. From my hands, decayed and desiccated leaves sifted through my fingers, as if I was Father Time sprinkling the sands of history over a barren land. Beneath the leaves was the brown ground, still scorched from the end of summer.

I LIGHT THIS CANDLE AND WATCH IT THROW TEARS ON MY PILLOW

AND IF THERE IS A CHRIST, HE’LL COME TONIGHT, TO PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES

AND IF I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO SHOW BUT TEARS ON MY PILLOW

WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS? IF GOD EXISTS, THEN HELP ME PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES. 

Looking up, I peer through bare branches and pine boughs, one running into the other, weaving a tapestry of limbs and needles. A cold wind moves overhead. Soon, snow will appear, but not on this day. We teeter on the edge, not quite ready to plummet into winter. It is dreary weather. It ebbs away at the soul with its overriding monotony, the dull way a barren landscape blunts the viewer’s gaze.

HE HAD TO FIGHT LIKE ALL THE REST

IN THE BARRIO ALL THE STREETS ARE PAVED WITH FEAR

I DON’T UNDERSTAND; AT LEAST HE WAS A MAN.

It is a difficult time in my life. The scent of fallen oak leaves will remind me of it in the years to come. A mournful, earthy scent fronted by the tomb-like mineral mist rising from the soil. I look around. A line of black garbage bags stands closer to the house, a conflux of short, abstract watchers, mute and faceless against the white house. The cleared expanse around me looks neat and clean. A small sliver of pride surfaces, but I tuck it away. No one extols the virtues of a spoiled teenager.

I LIGHT THIS CANDLE AND WATCH IT THROW TEARS ON MY PILLOW

AND IF THERE IS A CHRIST, HE’LL COME TONIGHT, TO PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES

AND IF I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO SHOW BUT TEARS ON MY PILLOW

WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS? IF GOD EXISTS, THEN HELP ME PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES.

Seeking a savior of some sort, I search the sky for signs of impending change. Simultaneously, I wish to be rescued and to wreak vengeance. Punishment and forgiveness, banishment and rebirth. I suppose I was seeking God, if God is indeed Love. Where was He? Where was I meant to be? As evening descended, and the grays all around me grew darker, I walked out of the forest back to the house. There was darkness in both places.

In my bedroom, I play the penultimate track on ‘Like A Prayer’ and light a candle in my mind.

This was the album that brought us such emotional tracks as ‘Promise To Try‘ and ‘Oh Father’ – and this song was in the same Catholic and confessional vein. The greatest Madonna songs tell a story – either in their lyrics or their video accompaniment. In this instance, a loose narrative of a savior – it could be Jesus, it could be a soldier, it could be a stranger, it could be a lover – carries through the guitar-laden ballad. This mysterious male phantom figure, perhaps a ghost of her then-recent divorce from Sean Penn, leaves Madonna questioning herself, her love, and the very existence of God.

HOW MANY LIVES WILL THEY HAVE TO TAKE? HOW MUCH HEARTACHE?

HOW MANY SUNS WILL THEY HAVE TO BURN? SPANISH EYES, WHEN WILL THEY EVER LEARN?

In Madonna, I found my savior. In her I found something more resonant than a God who sent his only son to die for others. How many suns will they have to burn? Those suns could be read as sons, and the first-born will always bear the brunt of the burn. 

YOU WERE NOT THE MARAVILLA IN OUR MIND

WE WERE PROUD TO FIGHT BUT WE CANNOT WIN THIS BLIND

STAND YOUR GUNS AGAINST THE WALL, WHO’S NEXT IN LINE TO FALL?

I LIGHT THIS CANDLE AND WATCH IT THROW TEARS ON MY PILLOW

AND IF THERE IS A CHRIST, HE’LL COME TONIGHT, TO PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES

AND IF I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO SHOW BUT TEARS ON MY PILLOW

WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS? IF GOD EXISTS, THEN HELP ME PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES.

My ghostly reflection looks back at me from the window, features smudged in the dirty glass, form abstract and ill-defined. In the darkness and haze, I hide my tears. Even if they ran as red as the blood of Christ, you would not see them. Though they burn my cheeks, I do not make a sound. Someone else will have to speak for me. Amid a flourish of trumpets, Madonna cries out in passion:

HOW MANY LIVES WILL THEY HAVE TO TAKE? HOW MUCH HEARTACHE?

HOW MANY SUNS WILL THEY HAVE TO BURN? SPANISH EYES, WHEN WILL THEY EVER LEARN?

There is nothing to do but sleep. That fall, it is the only place I find peace.

A guitar fades into oblivion.

A whispered prayer escapes my lips.

Tears betray my eyes.

TUS LAGRIMAS DE TRISTEZA

NO ME DEJAN OLVIDARTE

SONG #129: ‘Pray For Spanish Eyes’ ~ Fall 1991

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The DG Tour: Spring Thaw Salvation ~ Part 4

If you remember where this all began, you’ll find that we have returned to that moment and come full circle. In the beginning was the idea. We have now arrived at the execution. The curtain is going down… or coming up. This is The Delusional Grandeur Tour, and the Rock Star is about to take the stage.

FINALE:

The moments leading up to the performance are both mundane and electric. A school-age Madonna waits in the wings of the stage, her heart starting to pound in her chest, beneath her robe and through her costume, skimpy as it was. She ran through the routine in her mind again, then eyed the black-light she’d set up at the edge of the stage. It was designed to illuminate the day-glo body paint she’d applied to her body, just like she’d seen Goldie Hawn recently execute on television. She would stand there, naked for all intents and purposes, but for body paint and attitude and a few barely-seen pieces of underwear, and she would dance and writhe with gleeful abandon – a virgin foreshadowing of virgin activities to come. She would shock everyone who watched, and be the one they all talked about for weeks to come. She couldn’t explain why it needed to be done. She simply did it. For life. For love. For inspiration.

This would be her greatest show.

This would be her finest moment.

This would be the time when she showed her classmates, her friends and her family who she was.

She would show the world.

The lights go down.

The crowd falls silent.

The music begins…

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The DG Tour: Spring Thaw Salvation ~ Part 3

LOVE IS PAIN

AND

PAIN IS ART!

SHOW ME

YOUR

GRAFFITI HEART!!!

~ Madonna

IF GRAFFITI ON THE WALL CHANGED ANYTHING AT ALL

THEN IT WOULD BE ILLEGAL

IF SCARS COULD GO AWAY

WHAT WOULD YOUR BODY SAY

DON’T EVER HIDE YOUR FEELINGS

A crack in the visage,

like a fissure in an oil painting,

runs haphazardly along the random veining of a heart.

Bits of color peel away, fluttering to the floor

like snow or soap bubbles

or flecks of dried blood.

The artist bleeds like that:

clean and dirty and to-the-death.

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #128 ~ ‘Messiah’ – Winter 2015

{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 doesn’t always get the credit she deserves for some of her lyrics. Yes, she has a tendency to go a bit banal at times – and I know no one wants another waiting/hesitating/anticipating couplet – but if you dig into her deep cuts there are some jewels of gorgeous poetry at work, such as in this installation of the Madonna Timeline – the miraculous ‘Messiah’ from the stunning ‘Rebel Heart’ opus. The majestic track, with its dramatic orchestral flourishes and impassioned delivery ranks among Madonna’s very best ballads – a blending of ‘The Power of Goodbye‘ and ‘Falling Free‘ with a little ‘Drowned World: Substitute for Love‘ thrown in for good measure. In other words, a track that can cut you to tears – and I absolutely love it.

I AM THE PROMISE THAT YOU CANNOT KEEP.
REAP WHAT YOU SOW, FIND WHAT YOU SEEK.
I AM THE SORCERESS DOWN IN THE DEEP.
I AM THE EARTH UNDER YOUR FEET.

Winter.

The sky is dark gray, despite the early hour.

There is a brutality in the air, in the scent of smoke and snow.

An acrid metallic taste left on the tongue like blood.

An empty stretch of holidays, surrounded by family and friends, and feeling acute isolation.

Forlorn, forsaken, and forgotten – and from that we forge our fortitude.

Or we wait for another to rescue us.

A savior.

… A messiah…~

We seek him in the sky, on every distant horizon.

We wait in joyful hope, on every solemn occasion.

We think he will come, and change everything that’s wrong.

I AM THE MOON WITH NO LIGHT OF MY OWN
YOU ARE THE SUN GUARDING YOUR THRONE
I HEARD THE ANGELS WHISPER TO ME
LOOK FOR THE SIGNS – HE IS THE ONE…

A son who never quite felt loved, who had to go out on his own to find unconditional acceptance.

A man who never quite felt loved, who had to be out on his own to realize his worth.

And I did that.
I went into the world to find what I could not get at home.

It was love – the love of another person who didn’t care that I was gay, who didn’t care what I looked like, who didn’t care that my jacket was Gaultier.

Yet it was elusive.

Hidden.

Unknown.

Fumbling in the darkness, I could not see where I was meant to be.

I could not find the one.

I’LL LIGHT A CANDLE HERE IN THE DARK
MAKING MY WAY TO YOUR HEART
I’LL CAST A SPELL THAT YOU CAN’T UNDO
‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO
‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

By the light of a candle, late in the night, I chant my prayers.

The flame wavers, distorted by salty water, and multiplies in shards of kaleidoscopic light.

Shadows on the wall encroach on the single source of illumination.

They approach but they never quite reach it.

The light is untouchable.

I’LL BE THE BRIDE THAT IS MARRIED TO LIGHT
YOU ARE THE DAY, I AM THE NIGHT
WEAVE YOU A BLANKET OF SILVER AND GOLD
I’LL KEEP YOU WARM, DO AS I’M TOLD

Loneliness makes us do strange things.

Sick, sad, twisted, desperate things.

A lack of love does that too, until we reach a point where our desperation is written in everything we do.

Hurt begets hurt. Pain breeds more pain. A generous heart is doomed.

We put up with less than we deserve because we have been so beaten down.

For every queen, there is some deluded notion of a dominant king.

Such power plays are deeply ingrained in our history. Their poisonous roots run deep, housed in darkness, buried in cold. They can be masked as protection, disguised as safety, but they rot you from the inside out. The sudden wilt betrays a lifetime of unhappiness.

I NEED YOUR STRENGTH, IT WILL KEEP ME FROM HARM
I’LL BE YOUR QUEEN, SAFE IN YOUR ARMS
DON’T WANT TO GET TO THE END OF MY DAYS
SAYING I WASN’T AMAZED
I’LL LIGHT A CANDLE HERE IN THE DARK
MAKING MY WAY TO YOUR HEART
I’LL CAST A SPELL THAT YOU CAN’T UNDO
‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO
‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

Then, all of sudden, and just when you were about to give up on the whole thing altogether, the key: acceptance.

Resignation.

It takes a great many battles and wars before there is any sort of peace.

But there – here – it was, arrived at after numerous attempts at love – at the very moment you realized you didn’t need it. Maybe you didn’t even want it. There’s a victory in that too.

A sad victory.

Because not every victory means you won something.

Sometimes a victory is merely escaping certain death.

I’LL LIGHT A CANDLE HERE IN THE DARK
MAKING MY WAY TO YOUR HEART
I’LL CAST A SPELL THAT YOU CAN’T UNDO
‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

 

Awakened, you rise and repeat the mantra…

 

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

 

You say it with bone-chilling conviction, with all the desires you ever spent or wasted now conjured like ghosts backing up your army of one.

 

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

 

And all those you’ve ever loved, all those you’ve ever wanted to love you, and all those who didn’t know the first thing about love suddenly dissipate into nothing. It was only ever about waking up to yourself. You have no control over anyone else.

You never did.

No one does.

Love – true love – only arises when you learn to let go.

 

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

 

At the end – and only at the end – they do.

 

SONG #128: ‘Messiah’ ~ Winter 2015
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