Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

{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