Music |
Madonna
By
Published: Jan 01, 2006
Category:
Rock
Confessions on a Dance Floor
Madonna
Why is it that Madonna wants to be perceived as someone “who still knows how to run for the bus?” Is she sick of private helicopters and the Warner Bros. Company jet?
Madonna’s allusion to her struggling days in New York in the late-seventies seems to be her favorite PR mantra for the disco-inspired Confessions on a Dance Floor. She wants us to believe that she is still that dancer who came to New York to pursue world superstardom. (No wonder she “loves New York.”) Two decades later, she has catapulted herself to icon status, made a fortune and, thanks to the Kabbala, wandered down a path of self-discovery. She is the lady of honor at Gaultier’s spring show in Paris and the opening act of every music show she enters. But then she was always unapologetically, unsympathetically, unrelentingly self-motivating and self-confident.
So why is she seeking our approval like this? Why is she posing in the “I’m still Jenny from the Block” stance?
I was recently critiquing Madonna’s latest creative endeavor the video for “Sorry,” from her new CD. My friend and I agreed that it was "common". There were shades of the girl’s-night-out/party vehicle “Music” video, and the intended link between “Hung Up” and “Sorry” was not clearly established. Madonna seems to be amalgamating ideas from lesser icons: the face-off that comes before she says “Forgive me” is so reminiscent of Aguilera’s “Dirrrty,” and the cast of weirdos in the party van is a bit too much like the walkoffs in DC’s “Bootylicious.”
This video does very little to forward the album’s aesthetic. This song is less poppy than “Hung Up” but has roller skating in purple leotards. We both “get” the whole 70’s idea — just like we got the Country Western vibe from “Don’t Tell Me”on Music. But whereas “Don’t Tell Me” was one-of-a-kind, this video caters to the masses — it is not avant-garde and it does not conquer new ground.
Madonna, where’s the creative edge of old? Where is the brilliance that inspired the art deco “Vogue” video or the Geisha-inspired “Nothing Really Matters”? With such dark overtones (“Ich bin drofik”—“Sono spiaccente”), the “Sorry” video surely could have been a sophisticated and empowering representation of overcoming a destructive relationship. Instead, it leaves me wondering why a 47-year-old woman is doing splits on roller skates when she probably should be nursing her sore arm.
If anyone else had created that video, I would have turned the channel. But because it’s Madonna, I never blink. My friend admitted, “Madonna can do anything and I will still love her. I would follow her into battle.” In a moment of sheer enthusiasm bordering on insanity, he added, “If Osama bin Laden took over America, he would have to pry the Immaculate Collection out of my cold dead hands.”
So therein lies the paradox: she has our attention, because we are expecting something great and want to see greatness and we are conditioned to believe greatness is her gift to offer. Madonna, however, fears that we will turn the channel, so she gives us something below our Madonna-standard.
I believe that Madonna worries too much about her "career." She is no longer "young." Her last American Life did not perform well. But her stock is not down — she’s still the most influential name in music. Just look at last week’s Grammy awards for proof. Madonna gave the producers an ultimatum: either I open the show, or I don’t perform. She got her way.
Madonna doesn’t have to apologize for anything. She has been such a powerful cultural force in music and art. I look up to her as a savvy business woman, an entertainer and a leader. I want to tell her: Stop trying to simplify your message so more people understand. When you go to the middle of the road, you become predictable and boring.
That’s why I hated it when she termed the “Reinvention Tour” a collection of greatest hits. I knew it was because she had gotten flack for making the “Drowned World Tour” too abstract. Well, I thought Drowned World was an ingenious cross-cultural pageant. The same goes for this CD: stop trying to convince us that you can still make a good record! American Life was not a crowd-pleaser, but it was an important political statement.
It is distressing to me when someone who has come this far in her career, who has gained so much influence, panders to the average consumer. Madonna fans are not average. We are intelligent. We evaluate each endeavor she takes as part of the Madonna repertoire. And we are the first to know when she takes a turn towards the mainstream consumer that signals a more compliant, and therefore less genuine, Madonna.
So where does the Madonna fan take comfort? Where should the would-be fan go for real inspiration? Erotica. Yes, "Erotica" — the CD you never bought. Too bad; it’s immensely significant. This album divides Madonna’s career. Promotions for this album include the naughty, best-selling, shrink-wrapped Sex book. Bordering on pornography, this book is artistic and candidly showcases Madonna as she explores her sexuality in the public eye.
The album and the promotional work develop a seamless and compelling aesthetic. The music is gritty, raw; Madonna is vulnerable in songs like "Waiting" and "Bye Bye Baby." But don’t be fooled — ultimately she is the mistress who calls all the shots. This album is Madonna as herself. Maybe for the last time….
To buy ‘Confessions on a Dance Floor’ from Amazon.com, click here.
To buy ‘Erotica’ from Amazon.com, click here.
To buy Madonna’s ‘Sex’ book from Amazon.com, click here.
