Category Archives: Music

{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.}

Apologies for keeping you waiting on this Madonna Timeline, but it fits the song, so the slightly masochistic game of anticipation worked out in the end. This selection brings us back to the winter of 1993, following the hubbub and release of the ‘Erotica’ album and ‘Sex’ book – one of the most stunning and spectacular sections of Madonna’s career, and one which almost sent the whole thing off the rails. True fans thrilled at the ride, and as 1993 began I took cues from her ‘Body of Evidence’ thriller and lit a cadre of candles in my bedroom, watching the soft light elicit shadows as I writhed beneath the blankets on those frigid January nights.

WELL I KNOW FROM EXPERIENCE

THAT IF YOU HAVE TO ASK FOR SOMETHING MORE THAN ONCE OR TWICE

IT WASN’T YOURS IN THE FIRST PLACE

AND THAT’S HARD TO ACCEPT WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE

AND YOU’RE LED TO BELIEVE

IN THEIR MOMENT OF NEED

THAT THEY WANT WHAT YOU WANT BUT THEY DON’T

When she wasn’t waiting, anticipating or hesitating, Madonna kept a pretty active beat. Impatience may be her greatest sin, though it’s served her well. At a time in her career when slowing down may be mandatory, looking back on the way she rushed through the early 90’s in a whirlwind of image-change-ups, keeping all of us guessing as to where she might be headed next, is a lesson in inspired ambition. Such a continual and provocative turn of guises might blunt the power of a singular persona, yet they only added to her allure and intrigue. For someone who seemed to revel in revealing so much, she retained a mystique that felt tantalizingly impenetrable. We always wanted more.

DON’T GO BREAKING MY HEART LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD

BABY YOU’RE NOT GOOD

AND YOU HURT ME LIKE NO OTHER LOVER EVER COULD

DON’T GO MAKING ME CRY

YOU’RE GONNA SAY GOODBYE

BABY TELL ME WHY, TELL ME WHY OR YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO JUSTIFY THIS

WAITING FOR YOU

JUST WAITING

CAN’T YOU SEE I’M WAITING FOR YOU

DON’T BREAK MY HEART

For all her naked exploits and controversial posing, her vulnerable core seemed an easy target for careless men, or men who simply couldn’t quite live up to the impossibility of being her match. When you’re the most interesting person in every room it’s difficult to find much happiness or hope after a while. That doesn’t mean she ever stopped looking. It also didn’t mean that people couldn’t break her heart. Quite the contrary, and this song embodies the icy fire that burns beneath the entire’Erotica’ era. The album sizzles in snowy fashion. Sex was a weapon and a way to salvation. It could act as salve and savior, destroyer and devil. It could seduce and betray in a single slinky encounter.

IT WAS SO EASY IN THE BEGINNING

WHEN YOU DIDN’T FEEL LIKE RUNNING FROM YOUR FEELINGS LIKE YOU ARE NOW

WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT DO I REMIND YOU OF?

YOUR PAST, YOUR DREAMS, OR SOME PART OF YOURSELF THAT YOU JUST CAN’T LOVE?

I WISH I COULD BELIEVE YOU

OR AT LEAST HAVE THE COURAGE TO LEAVE YOU.

‘Waiting’ is mostly a spoken song that travels along the whispered path of ‘Justify My Love’ but it contains a few impossible-to-shake hooks. While Shep Pettibone (of ‘Vogue’ glory) got much of the production attention, Andre Betts gave the album its jazzy, hip-hop grooves, most of which were wetter than all those salacious dance tracks. (See the wizardry of ‘Where Life Begins’ and ‘Secret Garden‘.) ‘Waiting’ also contains some pretty pointed and powerful words that only occasionally verge on veering into trite territory. Madonna’s blunt delivery saves it, giving it an edge heretofore unseen in much of her work.

LIFE HAS TAUGHT ME THAT LOVE WITH A MAN LIKE YOU IS ONLY GONNA MAKE BE BLUE

BUT I LOVE YOU ANYWAY NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO

YOU DON’T COME AROUND HERE LIKE YOU DID BEFORE

WHEN YOU DID ADORE

TELL ME WHAT I DID TO DESERVE THIS

WAITING FOR YOU

I’M WAITING

CAN’T YOU SEE I’M WAITING FOR YOU

DON’T BREAK MY HEART

As the candles flicker and the wax drips, the intoxicating pull of desires and dreams lends the bedroom a sexual shadow. This song runs on for a healthy length, its meandering piano passes tickling Madonna’s breathless delivery, and the idea of waiting for a man, and for everything he might deliver, hangs in the smoky air. The hand moves languidly to the cock, and overcome by the need for sleep, my touch is one of casual lethargy. As sexually-charged as some cuts of the ‘Erotica’ album might be, there’s a richer layer of emotions at work, as evidenced by cuts like ‘Rain‘ and ‘Deeper and Deeper‘ and the title track itself. Sex was messy like that. As plainly physical as it could be, it always seemed tied into something deeper. Sometimes it was love. Sometimes it was pain. Always it was complicated. But I loved that about it. The complexities that swirled around the cock formed a heady conundrum that never failed to fascinate. What we did for gratification. What we did for want. What we did to connect… 

FINALLY I SEE A DIFFERENT MAN

ONLY LOVE CAN HURT LIKE THIS CAN

FINALLY I SEE A DIFFERENT FACE

TELL ME WHO IS GOING TO TAKE MY PLACE

The clock ticks. The clock tocks. Time hastens and slows, back and forth in a building rhythm. It pushes and pulls, and the body responds. Rivulets of wax run forth from the thick candles, spilling onto the desk, splashing and coalescing into muted echoes of what they once were. The transformation into heat and light and liquid complete, the flame flickers, daring and demanding to be blown out. Just open your mouth and lick your lips, letting the breath of life devour the fire. Take it all in…

I KNEW IT FROM THE START THAT YOU WOULD DESERT ME

YOU’RE GONNA BREAK MY HEART BABY PLEASE DON’T HURT ME

I KNEW IT FROM THE START THAT YOU WOULD DESERT ME

YOU’RE GONNA BREAK MY HEART BABY PLEASE DON’T HURT ME

Such was the fantasy, and such was the spell Madonna cast over me at the time. Whether it was pussy or prick for which I yearned, I couldn’t quite tell. The ‘Sex’ book had me straddling the divide like Madonna straddled a mirror while touching herself. The look of Madonna’s gaze as she reclined in shadow was as enthralling as the guys in the gaiety. The jockstrap-clad bald men enticed me as much as her dalliance with a shirtless Vanilla Ice. Sometimes sex was sex and it didn’t matter if it was with a man or a woman.

And so I stayed Waiting…

THE NEXT TIME YOU WANT PUSSY

JUST LOOK IN THE MIRROR BABY.

SONG #159: ‘Waiting’ – Winter 1993

{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

{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.}

Once upon a summer I threw an Illuminati Party. Ignorant of the ways of the illuminati, I only wanted to wear a crazy costume of faux deer antlers and inspire intrigue in the midst of a mid-summer night. This song provided the soundtrack for the costumed event, swirling about in frenzied delight and damnation, its beats skittering and frenetic. The invitations invoked the stereotypical idea most of us have of the illuminati, which is all a party invitation can really do; if you want depth look into a project or something more lasting than a party. Yet for party themes, this one was as good as any, and afforded guests the opportunity to dress up in whatever surreal get-up they wished.

IT’S NOT JAY-Z AND BEYONCÉ
IT’S NOT NICKI OR LIL WAYNE
IT’S NOT OPRAH AND OBAMA
THE POPE AND RIHANNA
QUEEN ELIZABETH OR KANYE

IT’S NOT PENTAGRAMS OR WITCHCRAFT
IT’S NOT TRIANGLES OR STACKS OF CASH
BLACK MAGIC OR GAGA
GUCCI OR PRADA
RIDING ON THE GOLDEN CALF

The chaotic drama surrounding the leaked release of Madonna’s ‘Rebel Heart’ album finds its musical accompaniment in this crazy track (and crazy in a crazy-good way). It’s an intriguing cut that sounds better than it really should. Parts of it remind one of a barking dog, parts are grating, parts are beautiful, and parts are puzzling. It almost comes together, and then it does, and then it falls apart before reassembling again. Schizo in the best and worst ways. Not unlike a summer party, when moon-drenched madness threatens drama at every turn, and romantic dalliances are just as likely to occur as knock-down-drag-out fights are. That’s summer. No one escapes the heat.

THE ALL-SEEING EYE IS WATCHING TONIGHT
THAT’S WHAT IT IS
TRUTH AND THE LIGHT
THE ALL-SEEING EYE IS WATCHING TONIGHT
NOTHING TO HIDE
THE SECRET’S INSIDE

IT’S LIKE EVERYBODY IN THIS PARTY’S SHINING LIKE ILLUMINATI
IT’S LIKE EVERYBODY IN THIS PARTY’S SHINING LIKE ILLUMINATI

IT’S THE ENLIGHTENMENT THAT STARTED IT ALL
THE FOUNDING FATHERS WROTE IT DOWN ON THE WALL
AND NOW THE MEDIA’S MISLEADING US ALL
TURNED RIGHT INTO WRONG

A towering angel’s trumpet lowers its pendulous blooms to eye-level, releasing its intoxicating lemon-like fragrance into the heavy air. What poison carries on its perfume? What spells does such sweetness cast? A sense of the lurid hides behind each smile, a bee ready to sting lurks in each blossom. In the summer darkness, everything turns dangerous. The pool lures chipmunks and toads to their watery graves, like the candlelight brings moths to their fiery ends. We dive beneath to escape the licking flames. No one is safe in a summer night.

IT’S TIME TO DANCE AND TURN THIS DARK INTO SOMETHIN’
SO LET THE FIRE BURN, THIS MUSIC IS BUMPIN’
WE’RE GONNA LIVE FOREVER, LOVE NEVER DIES
IT STARTS TONIGHT…

Picasso and Dali turned the world upside down, tugged at its natural order, and disturbed time so much that it literally melted before our eyes. A new world order indeed… The very best artists set such disturbances into motion. The proverbial butterfly flutters its wings in pretty, menacing fashion. The other side of the earth shudders and waits.

BEHIND THE CURTAIN OF THE NEW WORLD ORDER
IT’S NOT PLATINUM ENCRYPTED CORNERS
IT’S NOT ISIS OR THE PHOENIX
PYRAMIDS OF EGYPT
DON’T MAKE IT INTO SOMETHING SORDID

IT’S NOT STEVE JOBS OR BILL GATES
IT’S NOT THE GOOGLE OF UNITED STATES
IT’S NOT BIEBER OR LEBRON
CLINTON OR OBAMA
OR ANYONE YOU’D LOVE TO HATE

THE ALL-SEEING EYE IS WATCHING TONIGHT
THAT’S WHAT IT IS
TRUTH AND THE LIGHT
THE ALL-SEEING EYE IS WATCHING TONIGHT
NOTHING TO HIDE
THE SECRET’S INSIDE

IT’S LIKE EVERYBODY IN THIS PARTY’S SHINING LIKE ILLUMINATI
IT’S LIKE EVERYBODY IN THIS PARTY’S SHINING LIKE ILLUMINATI

For the Rebel Heart Tour, Madonna used this song as a late-hour interlude. Her dancers climbed atop impossibly flexible poles, which soon swayed and turned to their own fantastical form. Defying gravity and physics (or masterfully employing them as the case may be) they were a show unto themselves, because even when she’s absent the stage, Madonna knows how to entertain.

YOU KNOW THAT EVERYTHING THAT GLITTERS AIN’T GOLD
SO LET THE MUSIC TAKE YOU OUT OF CONTROL
IT’S TIME TO FEEL IT IN YOUR BODY AND SOUL
COME ON, LET’S GO

WE’RE GONNA DANCE AND TURN THE DARK INTO SOMETHIN’
SO LET THE FIRE BURN, THIS MUSIC IS BUMPIN’
WE’RE GONNA LIVE FOREVER, LOVE NEVER DIES
IT STARTS TONIGHT

IT’S LIKE EVERYBODY IN THIS PARTY’S SHINING LIKE ILLUMINATI
IT’S LIKE EVERYBODY IN THIS PARTY’S SHINING LIKE ILLUMINATI
IT’S LIKE EVERYBODY IN THIS PARTY’S SHINING LIKE ILLUMINATI
IT’S LIKE EVERYBODY IN THIS PARTY’S SHINING LIKE ILLUMINATI

SONG #157: ‘Illuminati’ – Summer 2015