You see them everywhere, but you don’t really see them.
They are all around us, all of the time.
Taking our money, taking our tickets, taking our place in line.
They give too.
Steaming food on hot plates. An icy decaf frappucino. A pile of new clothes, security sensors carefully removed.
Filler people.
People like Lionel Prichard.
You don’t know Lionel Prichard, I’ll bet.
Lionel Pritchard is everyone.
And no one.
He is a monster, maybe make-believe, maybe frighteningly real.
He’s from outer-space.
Or the farm down the road.
In truth (whatever that might be these days) Lionel Prichard is a character in the movie ‘Signs’ – the alien movie by M. Night Shyamalan, which finds one forlorn family making its way through an alien invasion. Lionel Prichard is a blip on the screen – at first they mistakenly attribute the strange alien behavior to him, then he is later seen in the small-town army office filling out some form.
He is background noise.
A nuisance character who in this instance adds to the tension and mystery.
We know his full name, but that is all.
The world is filled with Lionel Prichards. We don’t notice them for the most part, unless they step out of their unconsciously-assigned roles. The barista who forgets you ordered decaf. The sales-person who neglects to take off the security sensor. The server who added the order of fries to your bill but never brought them to the table. As is too often the case, we only really notice when things go wrong.
Once in a happy while, the good comes through too. The unexpected pay-it-forward moment in the Starbucks drive-through. The sweet compliment of a stranger on the day you were feeling so shitty. The exquisite winks of grace from, dare I say it, God. Lionel Prichard is there in those moments.
They are the people who populate the world, but whom we never take the time to meet. To know.
Each one of them is the main character of their own sitcom or drama or movie or musical.
Each one is the star of their own story.
Whenever I’m flummoxed by someone’s behavior – bad or good – I think of Lionel Prichard. Most of us, whether we realize it or not, are Lionel Prichard. We are nobody to the vast majority of other people on this planet. It is a blessing and a curse to be so startlingly insignificant. But to the few, to the elect chosen ones we honor with a space of import in our otherwise unremarkable lives, we can be everything. The most meaningful and significant star in this small stretch of the universe. For those magnificent creatures, we must shine like the sun. And for all the other Lionel Prichards, we must remember to see their shine too.
I don’t pretend to be anything special when it comes to my creative projects. I do what I like and I like what I do. Putting it on a stage like this website is my weird way of confronting social fear, a strange sort of showing off for the introverted side of me that needs to be let out.
The variable nature of our weather this season has many of us in a schizophrenic dance. Hot and sunny one day, cold and rainy the next, then right back up again a few hours later. It’s too extreme, too wild, too wide-ranging for those of us whose moods depend on some barometric stability. At such moments of meteorological oscillation, I find it best to dip into a stalwart sign of a season, in this instance summer, and focus on a memory or a feeling or the vague stirrings of a similar brush with the sublime.
These admittedly non-descript and rather ho-hum photos show off, as much as possible, the little buds of the Linden tree – an inconspicuous tree that is a large part of city landscaping, and whose unassuming flowers go largely unnoticed except when in bloom. Even then, only the perfume gets noticed, not the flowers themselves. In truth, it took me several years to figure out what the sweet scent in the air at this time of the year was. I was looking for something bold and bright and colorful, something like a lily or rose or lilac that would have the power and potency to fill the air with such fine fragrance.
It was a lesson in judging a book by its cover. Or a tree by its perfume. Or vice versa. I’m mixing metaphors and getting all anthropomorphic now, which means it’s time to wind up this quick pre-summer post.
Go out and find a linden tree before the ants get there.
{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.
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
A lot happened this past week – including Albany and Boston Pride (hence the featured rainbow jockstrap photo, ahem), the release of a new Madonna album and my annual Red Sox weekend with Skip – much of which is extensively documented here. Still on a bit of a high from all of it, let’s encapsulate the moments for posterity. This week officially turns the page from spring to summer, and there is more fun to be had. I just don’t want to get ahead of ourselves. On with the recap!
This is the day we celebrate the Dads in our lives, and mine is certainly worthy of celebration. He’s getting up there in years, and slowing down a bit (as are we all), but every now and then I’ll capture the youthful glimmer of sharp wit or the quick flash of sorrow from a childhood in the Philippines during the war and the early loss of his only sister, and I’ll realize what a great many things he’s witnessed and in which he’s taken part. He is the ultimate example of an immigrant realizing the American dream, and a reminder of what it means to be a noble man in an ignoble world.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad – thank you for everything!
We also take this day to remember Andy’s Dad, who’s been gone two years now but is not forgotten. Dads are always with us.
I SING MYSELF TO SLEEP A SONG FROM THE DARKEST HOUR
SECRETS I CAN’T KEEP IN SIGHT OF THE DAY
SWING FROM HIGH TO DEEP, EXTREMES OF SWEET AND SOUR
HOPE THAT GOD EXISTS, I HOPE, I PRAY
Is there a greater joy than discovering an old album by your new favorite band and sifting through to find the gems that came before? Such were the happy musical hunting expeditions on which I’d find myself in the late 90’s after having happened upon the brilliant ‘Laid’ album by James. They quickly became my favorite band and I was searching through their back catalog when I found this song.
At the time, I was a little bit lost between Boston and Amsterdam, as it was the summer. My summers then, in the almost-post-graduate point of life, were divided between the steamy streets and sullied T-stops of Boston and the stultifying, if comfortably air-conditioned, poolside doldrums of my parents’ home in upstate New York. There were Structure stores in both locations, so I would schedule my shifts according to which location I’d be at, spending a few weeks at each before going back to the other. Somehow I also found time to travel and tour, and since Chris had just moved to San Francisco, there was a reason and excuse to visit that alternately sunny and foggy city.
DRAWN BY THE UNDERTOW, MY LIFE IS OUT OF CONTROL
I BELIEVE THIS WAVE WILL BEAR MY WEIGHT, SO LET IT FLOW
OH SIT DOWN, OH SIT DOWN, OH SIT DOWN
SIT DOWN NEXT TO ME
SIT DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN
IN SYMPATHY
Along with Erasure’s ‘Don’t Say Your Love Is Killing Me’, this song by James became part of my summer lexicon. Chris and I would sit on a hill near Berkeley, smoke silly bidi cigarettes after downing a bottle of Boones, and lament our privileged existence. We were both, admittedly or not, searching for love, and it never seemed to come quite quickly enough. Had we known then what we know now it would have been so much easier to bear, but that’s the conundrum of youth. Too much time, not enough appreciation. Too much beauty, not enough worth.
NOW I’M RELIEVED TO HEAR
THAT YOU’VE BEEN TO SOME FAR-OUT PLACES
IT’S HARD TO CARRY ON
WHEN YOU FEEL ALL ALONE
NOW I’VE SWUNG BACK DOWN AGAIN
IT’S WORSE THAN IT WAS BEFORE
IF I HADN’T SEEN SUCH RICHES
I COULD LIVE WITH BEING POOR
OH SIT DOWN, OH SIT DOWN, OH SIT DOWN
SIT DOWN NEXT TO ME
SIT DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN, DOWN
IN SYMPATHY
On a windy, sunny day we walked past the colorful line of homes immortalized by the opening credits of ‘Full House’ – how badly we all want to be part of the sitcom of life, safely and warmly ensconced on a cozy couch in a living room where nothing but studio laughs and lukewarm drama percolated – nothing too dangerous, nothing too disruptive. We arrived at the beach, where the might of the Pacific Ocean merely whispered along the shore. I knew better than to trust a sunny stretch of sand. Deep in that water and far in the distance swum giants both lethal and innocuous – sharks and whales, and Humboldt squid that wouldn’t give up even when hauled aboard your harvester ships. Leviathans that roamed in the darkest depths… I sensed their presence a thousand miles away, and shuddered in the sun.
We backed away from the ocean, from its immensity and sprawling expanse, from the sudden sense of being so small and insignificant. It would be easier to make sense of the world on a smaller scale, to bring it down to a table and a pair of chairs in a restaurant, where we controlled completely what would arrive, how much butter went on a roll, how many sips of water to take. Among the billions, just two young men beginning their life journeys.
THOSE WHO FEEL THE BREATH OF SADNESS
SIT DOWN NEXT TO ME
THOSE WHO FIND THEY’RE TOUCHED BY MADNESS
SIT DOWN NEXT TO ME
THOSE WHO FIND THEMSELVES RIDICULOUS
SIT DOWN NEXT TO ME
We stepped into a bookstore that Jack Kerouac reportedly frequented. Or maybe they were just featuring his work. The memory grows hazy. A veil is lowered. The fog rose all the way to Nob Hill. Pairs of old men shrouded in cigarette smoke pushed chess pieces across tiny tables, sipping tiny cups of cappuccino. Would this be where we ended up?
Memory lapped upon memory, turning things over and over again, beating the brain into sandy submission. The shores of the past meet the shores of the future and present, but where? How far along will such a sea take us? How far will we need to go?
IN LOVE, IN FEAR, IN HATE, IN TEARS
IN LOVE, IN FEAR, IN HATE, IN TEARS
IN LOVE, IN FEAR, IN HATE, IN TEARS
IN LOVE,
IN FEAR,
IN HATE…
I used to think that by this point in my life I’d have it all figured out. Now I wonder if we’re never supposed to have it figured out. Maybe figuring it all out while we are here is the end of life. The end of seeking. The end of searching. The end of trying. The end of living.
Back then we would cry out in frustration and desperation. In confusion and delusion. Now we cry out in submission and reconciliation, and I’m not sure which is worse.
Our friends are our consolation.
You cannot be completely lost if you are lost together.
It’s been far too long since we’ve had a new Madonna Timeline entry, and since we have a whole new album of cuts to add to the iTunes shuffle roulette wheel we need to get going on the next one. New songs are usually trickier since there haven’t been any memories yet to attach to them, but that just means I have to get more creative. Before any of the new ones crop up, however, this is something linky to whet your appetite, just in case you haven’t had enough Madonna today.
Here’s a semi-random selection of some more recent timelines for your perusal and hopeful enjoyment:
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.
For the early stages of Madonna’s career, I was a semi-casual fan. Strange truth be told, it was my brother who brought the ‘True Blue’ album into our home. I’d loved ‘Like A Virgin’ but was dubious about whether I’d liked anything new by Madonna. (Ahh, to be that innocent and naïve and foolish again…) A true Virgo by nature, it wasn’t yet in me to embrace or look for change, so he ended up getting ‘True Blue’ and I ended up loving it. The same strange lack of excitement greeted ‘Like A Prayer’ – I just couldn’t be bothered with trying something new. Came around in a big way to that album too, even if I almost smashed it to smithereens in a moment of Catholic guilt. One would have thought by the time ‘I’m Breathless’ rolled around I’d have learned that I loved Madonna and she could do no wrong. Possibly, but I took my time getting into the brilliance of that album as well.
It wasn’t until ‘Erotica’ arrived that I was a super-fan, and since then I’ve never slacked. For the ‘Erotica’ album and ‘Sex’ book, I wasn’t even driving yet, so my friend Ann and her Mom brought me to the mall to pick them up. By the time ‘Bedtime Stories’ was released I was in Boston and doing my own thing. (Which consisted mostly of sleazing around Tower Records until the next Madonna single came out.)
At that point a new Madonna album release was an Event in the best and most explosive ways. The date would be marked on my calendar, the school or work schedules shifted for before and after, and a holiday would be born. To this day, I remember dates and time-frames in relation to Madonna album releases. It went this way for a while – the ‘Something to Remember’ ballad compilation, the ‘Evita’ soundtrack, the majestic ‘Ray of Light’, and the magnificent ‘Music’ album were all procured in this same format – a midnight release and a line at Tower Records.
Shortly after the turn of the millennium, however, with all the online leaks and download options, the necessity of standing in line late at night became a thing of the past, and with its passing so too went a ritual. Virgos love our rituals and we find comfort and safety in tradition. Taking it away just because I could download something on my computer may have been easier and faster than a trip to Boston or New York, it also left less of an impact. But that’s how we change and grow. The releases for ‘American Life’ and ‘Confessions on a Dancefloor’ and ‘Hard Candy’ were exciting, but mostly non-events. I’d still thrill to a club or gay bar playing something off a new Madonna album, which probably happened last in New York sometime after ‘Confessions’, but for the most part the releases were muted. There was a slight surge in the excitement level when her 2012 Superbowl performance had me overly-anticipating ‘MDNA’ but when the disastrous leaks of ‘Rebel Heart’ forced an early-but-staggered release, the blush of the single release date was definitely off the rose.
Tomorrow’s release of ‘Madame X’ had, until a few days ago, been relatively leak-free, and the late leaks of the album are coming so close to the real release date that a bit of the old magic and excitement is back. To that end, this lengthy, link-filled post has been written for a bit of Madonna history. All hail Madame X.
