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.}

You can dance.

For inspiration.

Such was the mantra for Madonna’s first remix record, ‘You Can Dance’. It came at her white-hot 80’s platinum crest, and for an album half-filled with dub versions it did relatively well, even without a single. The lone new song ‘Spotlight’ should have been given the single and video treatment, as it could have better bridged the gap between the nefarious ‘Who’s That Girl’ period and the amazing ‘Like A Prayer’ majesty. Instead, this throwaway track (reportedly from the ‘True Blue’ sessions) is an 80’s time-capsule with its synthesized everything and Madonna’s full-throated delivery.

SPOTLIGHT, SHINE BRIGHT

TONIGHT, SPOTLIGHT…

There’s nothing ground-breaking here, though it does mark Madonna’s first reference to the spotlight (one that, oddly enough, wouldn’t rear its now-ubiquitous head until she started examining her own fame in tracks like ‘Human Nature’, ‘Survival’, ‘Drowned World’, ‘How High’, ‘American Life’, ‘Hollywood’, ‘I’m Addicted’, ‘Joan of Arc’ and ‘Rebel Heart‘.)

NO ONE KNOWS YOU BETTER THAN YOU KNOW YOURSELF

DO THE THING YOU WANT, DON’T WAIT FOR SOMEONE ELSE

LIFE IS JUST A PARTY, THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW

IT’S YORU TURN TO SHINE, BABY LET YOURSELF GO.

Carefree days of childhood, when dreams of fame and fortune actually seemed possible, all within (far) reach. I didn’t know how or when, but one day I knew that spotlight would shine on me. Whether or not I’d be ready, accepting, or appreciative of it was also unknown. But the possibility was there, and this song was very much an inspiration.

EVERYBODY IS A STAR

EVERYONE IS SPECIAL IN THEIR OWN WAY

SO YOU SET YOUR GOALS HIGH AND GO FAR

DON’T PUT OFF TOMORROW WHAT YOU CAN DO TODAY…

It hasn’t weathered the passing of time very well, but for an 80’s trifle it reminds of a more simple period, when all was neon and bangles and 80’s glory. It was gaudy and garish, and, much like the ‘You Can Dance’ artwork, more than a little cheesy. It wasn’t the prettiest time, but it was flashy. More than that, it was the background to my childhood. Good or bad, that was the era that informed my view of the world, and my place in it.

SPOTLIGHT, OPEN UP YOUR EYES AND SEE

SPOTLIGHT, SHINING THERE FOR YOU ME

SPOTLIGHT, THIS WORLD IS YOURS AND MINE

SPOTLIGHT, THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO SHINE.

As Patrick Bateman prowled the streets of New York snorting coke and fucking hookers, as Wall Street boomed and busted, and the coldness of an imagined war loomed and darkened the steps in the distance, we grew up. Yet in my bedroom, with the scarlet lining of the cassette tape and Madonna intoning me to step into the light, all was wondrous and rosy and limitless imagined stardom.

DON’T STAND IN THE CORNER WAITING FOR THE CHANCE

MAKE YOUR OWN MUSIC, START YOUR OWN DANCE

WHEN YOU FEEL THE RHYTHM, I’LL BE BY YOUR SIDE

NOW YOU HAVE THE POWER, BABY, LOVE IS ON YOUR SIDE.

Caught between the well-traveled world of my brother – a realm of sports and easy friendships and carelessness to all attire – and the fantastical vision of Madonna – a realm of glamour and power and beauty, clearly I was siding with my main muse. In her music and her attitude, she offered a fun and sexy and confident manifestation of the age-old belief that dreams really do come true – even if no one else believed in you. That was a lesson I needed more than anything, and it was something I’d have to go through in my own way.

EVERYBODY WANTS TO SHINE

DON’T STAND ON THE SIDELINE, STEP INTO THE LIGHT

BUT IT’S GOT TO COME FROM INSIDE

LISTEN TO YOUR HEART, AND STEP INTO THE SPOTLIGHT

EVERYBODY IS A STAR,

YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE

THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO SHINE

IT’S GOT TO COME FROM YOUR HEART.

SONG #124 – ‘Spotlight’ ~1988

{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.}

THERE’S ONLY SO MUCH YOU CAN LEARN IN ONE PLACE.

THE MORE THAT I WAIT, THE MORE TIME THAT I WASTE.

This is one of those songs I wish I’d heard during my first days at any number of jobs. It turns out I’ve had more than my share – beginning with a decent retail stint at Structure and a first office job at John Hancock. Obviously, the retail one was the more fun of the two, but I didn’t know that at the beginning. In fact, as I started on my first day (just an early Sunday meeting to try on the new fall line) I wondered if I could do it. So much so that escape plans played out in my head, ways I could politely exit before I had to talk to people or step up to the register. That’s always how it is in the beginning.

I HAVEN’T GOT MUCH TIME TO WASTE, IT’S TIME TO MAKE MY WAY.

I’M NOT AFRAID OF WHAT I’LL FACE, BUT I’M AFRAID TO STAY.

I’M GOING DOWN MY OWN ROAD, AND I CAN MAKE IT ALONE,

I’LL WORK AND I’LL FIGHT TIL I FIND A PLACE OF MY OWN…

Standing in the dressing room at the Faneuil Hall Structure, on the sixth floor of its stand-alone building amid an island of historic cobblestone, I look at myself in the mirror, almost trembling with nerves. The new crop of employees is changing into the Fall Collection of Structure. Each of us had been given an outfit to try on and model. One would think I was in my element, but I was just starting to learn about fashion, and only just realizing that my own style was not necessarily something that would fly in the mainstream retail world. (Structure was, after all, an off-shoot of The Limited Company, which ran just about every mall store that existed in the 90’s.)

I did what I did best and put on my game face. I pulled on a pair of silk and wool pants, adjusted a crisp white shirt, and eyed a gray jacket hanging behind me. As I buckled my belt – the final piece of armor for this battle – I took a deep breath. Stepping out and strutting down the middle of the store with all the attitude and swagger of a super-model, I overcame my shyness and pretended to be someone else. Someone confident, someone who didn’t care. To the amusement of my colleagues and managers, I worked it like RuPaul taught us from the time of Star-Booty. This wasn’t something that came from my wardrobe, this wasn’t about the sillage of cologne left in my wake or the perfectly-coiffed hair that sat upon my head – this came from somewhere deep inside, something that I didn’t even know was there. It wasn’t from my parents or my family or my friends, it wasn’t from my upbringing or past or anything I learned at school. It was a spark that was mine and mine alone – the start of an adult life that I could and would control on my own terms. It was one of the first times I jumped, and it was scary and exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once.

ARE YOU READY TO JUMP?

GET READY TO JUMP

DON’T EVER LOOK BACK, OH BABY

YES, I’M READY TO JUMP

JUST TAKE MY HAND, GET READY TO JUMP.

Soon, though, I rather expectedly came into my own, excelling at all things that had to do with retail. I was one of the top sales-people, and the one who consistently led the (literal) charge, opening up the most store credit cards every week. My average sale was reliably high (and when it wasn’t, there was always the next-to-the-register special of three pairs of socks for ten dollars to bump it up a bit). But more important than the prowess I gained as a retail worker was the real sense of confidence and self-worth I felt from doing a job and doing it well. No one had handed me this position, and no one there knew what I had, or hadn’t, done with my life up until that point. I made myself into someone, and I did it on my own. People may scoff at the silliness of a sales-person job, but it was everything to me. I held onto it, working several shifts at various locations throughout Boston – Boylston/Newbury Street, Harvard Square, and a couple of inventory days at Prudential and Natick. I even moved to the Rotterdam Square location when I had to go home for the summer. My Structure family accepted me for who I was, and because I had proven my worth, there was respect there too. That emboldened me for my next job, even if it didn’t take away all my nerves.

WE LEARNED OUR LESSONS FROM THE START, MY SISTERS AND ME

THE ONLY THING YOU CAN DEPEND ON IS YOUR FAMILY.

LIFE’S GONNA DROP YOU DOWN LIKE THE LIMBS OF A TREE

IT SWAYS AND IT SWINGS AND IT BENDS UNTIL IT MAKES YOU SEE.

A few years later, and a few days into my new job at John Hancock, I still had butterflies. The girls were snickering as I returned to my researching figures on microfiche. I had finished my lunch and started working a few minutes before my lunch hour was officially over. One of them, Angie – a loud and boisterous woman – sat next to me and said something I’ve never forgotten: “Never give up your lunch. It’s not a lot of time, but that’s yours. Don’t give that up.” Normally a wise-ass, joking about everything and everyone, she was unquestionably serious as she said that to me. (To this day, I will almost always take my full lunch, and it makes a definite difference.)

It would take a few weeks to feel comfortable in a new office, and I remember gauging how long it took me to overcome my nerves at Structure, comparing it to how many days I had been at John Hancock. (This was a game I would repeat at every new job I’d take over the years – trying to figure out when I would be truly comfortable and have a few friends.) I stuck with it, and when I was asked to be one of the research managers on the floor I realized I had stopped counting the days and had already made a number of friends.

We went out to lunch together, as well as to a number of after-work gatherings at The Pour House or the Hard Rock Cafe. I also hosted parties and occasional Saturday lunches when we worked overtime. It was only a temporary assignment, for some years-long financial settlement in the making, and we came together for a few months in our youth, which somehow made it all mean more. Most of us were in our very early twenties, but a few teenage college interns were there as well, and a couple of older temp people shifting to another job in between life-events. A mixed bag, to be sure, one that was as entertaining as it was dysfunctional.

Fights would flare up, a few minor flirtations would result in some random drunken hook-ups, and a nude photo scandal once erupted ending up in two people getting fired on the spot, but I was largely uninvolved with the drama (not even the nude photo fiasco, which was less a result of the naked photographs and more due to the fact that the two ladies involved had threatened to physically, and violently, resolve the issue on the research library floor). In other words, I soon felt like a member of the John Hancock family, and I’d stay there far longer than my original plan of six months. It was only when I moved to Chicago with my boyfriend that I broke those ties. Still, I’ve held on to two dear friends from that time – JoAnn and Kira – and I keep them close.

ARE YOU READY TO JUMP?

GET READY TO JUMP

DON’T EVER LOOK BACK, OH BABY

YES, I’M READY TO JUMP

JUST TAKE MY HAND, GET READY TO JUMP.

A few more years passed. I ended up living in Albany with Andy, and I needed a job. A couple of his friends suggested taking a government exam, and in a few months I had procured permanent employment with the State of New York. In that first job – a Grade 5 Date Entry Machine Operator – I went back to counting the days. In my second state job – a Grade 6 Keyboard Specialist, I kept counting. By the third, a Grade 9 Keyboard Specialist 2, the days seems to go quicker, my comfort level rebounding at a faster pace, and my confidence less shakable. By the time I advanced to a Grade 18 Senior Personnel Administrator, my nerves and jitters at new jobs had dissipated, and rather than dread the feeling of being the new guy, I almost missed it in the nine years I maintained that position.

When a promotional opportunity for a Grade 23 position came up two years ago, I had to take it, even if it meant leaving the agency where I had spent more time than all of my previous jobs combined. I would have to start over again, almost from scratch, and as much as I knew I could do it (because I’d done it so many times before) it was a daunting prospect. I was almost 40 years old, and about to go back to the beginning. By this time, ‘Jump’ – the song – was in my library, and I hastened to retrieve it. No matter how many times I’d done it, I still got nervous.

THERE’S ONLY SO MUCH YOU CAN LEARN IN ONE PLACE.

THE MORE THAT YOU WAIT, THE MORE TIME THAT YOU WASTE.

Yet whether it was all those years of practice, or the simple maturation and letting go of the silly worries that had plagued me in my youth, I found myself quickly comfortable, and surprisingly valued, at my new job. In fact, I didn’t even have to go back to my previous practice of comparing how many days it was before I felt at home, and I remarked to a few people how it was the fastest I had ever become an integral part of an office. It helped that I was old(er) and married and comfortable enough in my own skin not to pretend to be anyone else. The biggest, and longest-to-learn, lesson I’ve taken from my years of employment is that people aren’t ever going to be truly won over until you reveal your genuine self to them. Most of us can read when someone is hiding something, when they’re trying too hard or pretending to be someone other than their authentic selves. As the jobs progressed, so did my experience in the world, and the various quirks that made me who I am were no longer something to be hidden, but something to wear proudly on my peacock-colored sleeves.

I’LL WORK AND I’LL FIGHT ‘TIL I FIND A PLACE OF MY OWN

IT SWAYS AND IT SWINGS AND IT BENDS UNTIL YOU MAKE IT YOUR OWN.

The last single from Madonna’s disco-ball inferno ‘Confessions on a Dance-Floor’ is a highlight of that album, with its Pet Shop Boys ‘West End Girls’ nod and theme of self-empowerment. It is also one of those Madonna songs that works on different levels, for different moments, giving it a timeless aspect that echoes its multiple-decades of influences. There’s nothing groundbreaking about this one in Madonna terms, but it’s a perfectly crafted pop song by one of the genre’s finest, which makes it groundbreaking compared to practically anyone else.

It’s also a great song to pump someone up for beginning a new endeavor, whether that’s a new job, a new relationship, or a new anything. It’s one of those crossroad songs – an indicator of a life decision that may or may not change the entire trajectory of your existence. That gives it a certain bit of tension, but the good kind – the kind that propels you to move ahead.

I CAN MAKE IT ALONE, I CAN MAKE IT ALONE

I CAN MAKE IT ALONE, I CAN MAKE IT ALONE

We all have those moments, when we have to decide whether to jump or whether to stay put. Timing is everything. Sometimes you have to be pushed a little, but a jump is a jump, no matter how it happens to happen.

ARE YOU READY TO JUMP?

GET READY TO JUMP

DON’T EVER LOOK BACK, OH BABY

YES, I’M READY TO JUMP

JUST TAKE MY HAND, GET READY TO JUMP.

And sometimes you have to leave to find your way home again.

ARE YOU READY?

SONG #123: ‘Jump’ ~ Fall 2005

Behold, the magnificence of the almighty 12” Extended mix of Madonna’s ‘Like A Prayer’ – back when remixes retained the original integrity of a song instead of deconstructing them to the point of unrecognizable beats and samples. This one begins with the basic guitar chords, slowly building to the immortal opening lines and bridge, “Life is a mystery, Everyone must stand alone…” I still get chills every time I hear it. Listen through to the end, when the one and only Prince provides guitar licks  to take the song to another level – the holy grail of rock ‘n’ roll.

This is ‘Like a Prayer’ season. The album was released in March of 1989, back when I was thirteen years old. According to Jewish lore, by way of Madonna, thirteen is the age when one’s soul solidifies, and you become the core of the person you are destined to be. It’s only fitting then that thirteen was when ‘Like A Prayer’ came into my world. There’s no need to go into everything I’ve already written on the song, but every year at this time I recall those magical days when it was first released.

The arrival of spring after a trying winter is almost a religious event. Madonna’s ‘Like A Prayer’ album was a similar exercise in spiritual salvation through the art of pop music. Its quartet of top-ten singles remains a cornerstone and highlight of a storied and impressive career (‘Like A Prayer’, ‘Express Yourself’, ‘Cherish‘, and ‘Keep It Together‘). It may, however, be the album as a whole that solidified Madonna’s stature as serious artist, one to be reckoned with for the long haul, and one destined for the historical firmament.

Take the heart-wrenching double-punch of ‘Promise To Try‘ and ‘Oh Father‘ – those two songs alone won over  her harshest critics, at least for the moment. The whimsical ‘Dear Jessie‘ offered a softer side to the woman who rarely revealed a vulnerable or nurturing nature. At the time the most revealing track was likely ‘Til Death Do Us Part‘ – the brittle examination of a marriage gone to wreck – and it’s a harrowing but brilliant song that races along and raises as many questions as it purports to answer. This was the first Madonna record that earned her almost universal praise. (Even B-side ‘Supernatural‘ held its other-worldly charms.)

All in all, the ‘Like A Prayer’ album was a cathartic collection of songs designed to exorcize Madonna’s demons past and present, and going on such an intensely personal journey helped us all work some stuff out. At the turn from winter to spring, it thawed the coldest of hearts and melted the most frigid of countenances.

IT’S LIKE A DREAM

NO END AND NO BEGINNING…

It sounded like a guaranteed train-wreck. As much as I love Madonna, her ill-conceived and poorly-executed stand-up bit during an appearance on a Jimmy Fallon show for her Rebel Heart promotional tour was proof that her greatest strengths are her musical performances. (Witness the insanely good ‘Bitch I’m Madonna’ dance-fest of that same show.) This evening – a gift to her Australian fans – promised to be an intimate and raw affair of music, stories and comedy, but I didn’t have much faith in how it would play.

Making a whimsical entrance on a tricycle, Madonna makes an effectively glamorous clown. Make-up is flawlessly spot-on, costume is sexy but innocent, and the flaming-pink wig and off-set top hat are a new take on some Madonna stand-by accessories. She’s done the sexy circus theme before (‘The Girlie Show’) and it fits her well. Still, I had my doubts.

It begins in somewhat-shaky but moving fashion as Madonna tackles the Stephen Sondheim classic ‘Send in the Clowns.’ To my knowledge, it’s the first time she’s sung Sondheim since her stunning ‘Sooner or Later’ performance from 1991’s Oscar telecast.

It’s always a thrill when Madonna performs my favorite song she’s ever written, so the appearance of ‘Drowned World/Substitute for Love‘ from her magnificent (and thus far best) album ‘Ray of Light‘ was a welcome beginning to her string of songs this evening.

The unfairly-maligned ‘American Life’ album got a welcome revisit, with emotional renderings of ‘X-Static Process‘, ‘Intervention‘ and the first-ever live performance of ‘Easy Ride.’ Though I’ll never be a big fan of ‘I’m So Stupid’ it fit in well with the raw, sometimes-self-flagellating nature of the night.

Some of the intervening “comedic” bits fall as flat as expected (that dumb donkey joke) but they are less harsh and more endearing than previous comic efforts. She also pokes fun at herself, not something she does often, but one of her unheralded strong-points when it happens. Sipping from a Cosmopolitan, she was more relaxed in a free-form style that usually leaves her more rigid. How, at this late stage of the game, she manages to reinvent and surprise after what we’ve already seen is a real revelation.

The mostly acoustic style of the songs neatly aligned with the intimate feel of this loosely-plotted show, and sets Madonna up for an even longer run should she choose to maintain her unprecedented sway. She expounds upon the creation of one of the most emotionally-wrenching songs she’s ever written – ‘Mer Girl’ – before giving it a stark reading – a haunting highpoint, a raw wound, a glimpse behind the curtain. This clown had many sides, this clown had depth, and this clown had some serious feeling.

By the time a gentle, easy-going version of ‘Borderline’ comes along, the music is finally, and reassuringly, revealed as her one true salvation, as the single aspect that has buoyed her career and changed the entire landscape of pop culture – for better, for worse, and forever. Her penultimate song for this event was the too-rarely-performed ‘Take A Bow’ – the perfect ending both thematically and lyrically; all the world does indeed love this clown.

I expected the whole thing to be a dud, an embarrassing mis-step at the end of her otherwise-amazing ‘Rebel Heart’ Tour, but I was proven wrong. That’s the majesty of Madonna at work, even when the unlikeliest naysayers are ready to wag our naughty fingers at her. Touche, Madame, and well-played.

{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’s B-sides and Bonus Tracks have only gotten better over the years (see ‘I Fucked Up‘, ‘Super Pop’ and ‘Beautiful Killer.’) This Madonna timeline selection – ‘Autotune Baby’ – is one of the best, wrapped in an annoying baby gimmick that almost – almost – ruins the whole beautiful affair. But I guess babies tend to do that, so we will make do. It’s a bonus track from the excellent ‘Rebel Heart’ album, and got lost in that release’s mad shuffle.

I TOLD YOU I DON’T WANT YOU ALL THE TIME CAUSE YOU’RE NOT MINE

I’M NOT IN LOVE BUT I’M IN LIKE, SO FAR IT’S WORKING FINE. 

BUT WHEN I NEED YOU THEN I’M DESPERATE,  I’M A LITTLE CHILD

JUST LIKE AN ANIMAL, DOWN ON MY KNEES AND BEGGING…

She’s employed the baby thing once in the past – in an unobtrusive bit of recorded laughter reportedly by Pat Leonard’s daughter in ‘Dear Jessie‘. That one was forgivable given the whimsical childhood fantasy of the song. This time around, an annoying child’s cry is used, distorted, and turned into a jarring musical recurrence.

YEAH, ALL WRAPPED UP, I WANNA BE YOUR LITTLE BABY NOW

PUT MY HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER, YOU CAN ROCK ME, ROCK ME NOW

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT YOU CAN HEAR ME CRYING LOUD

PUT MY HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER AND ROCK ME.

On repeated listens, however, it becomes an integral part of the song. Not that it isn’t for a moment anything less than grossly agitating, but there’s a useful purpose for it. That bothersome grating on the ears actually makes the chorus, when it arrives, that much sweeter. And what a gorgeous chorus it is – probably one of her best in a long time. Such a shame it had to be bound with the baby.

OPEN THE DOOR, UNLOCK ME

WE’VE GOT TONIGHT, SO ROCK ME NOW.

Lyrically it’s a casual relationship gone obsessive, a sweet love song surrounded by emotionally sadomasochistic tension. The push and pull of power and weakness, of domination and subjugation, of love and hate – it finds fruitful musical resolution in the chorus. (Again, this could have been one of the great ones were it not for that damn baby.)

I’M IN MY BED AND I’M OBSESSED AND LYING WIDE AWAKE

I NEED SOMEONE LIKE YOU TO COME AND PUT ME IN MY PLACE

CAUSE IN THE DAY I CAN’T BE TAMED, BOY YOU DON’T WANNA KNOW

BUT IN THE NIGHT MY HANDS ARE TIED, YOU TELL ME WHERE TO GO.

It’s a fuck you/fuck me lullaby, filled with barbed sweetness and poisoned candy. We all want to be so strong in the light of day. We wrap ourselves in armor and pretend that we don’t need anyone, that we are not dependent or needy creatures. Nobody wants to be the weak one.

YEAH, ALL WRAPPED UP, I WANNA BE YOUR LITTLE BABY NOW

PUT MY HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER, YOU CAN ROCK ME, ROCK ME NOW

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT YOU CAN HEAR ME CRYING LOUD

PUT MY HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER AND ROCK ME.

Once the night falls, however, most of us just want to be held. Rocked gently to sleep. Comforted and wrapped in loving arms. We aren’t supposed to admit it, but there it is. From the moment we enter this cold world, we just want to be loved.

OPEN THE DOOR, UNLOCK ME

WE’VE GOT TONIGHT SO ROCK ME

OPEN THE DOOR, UNLOCK ME

WE’VE GOT TONIGHT SO ROCK ME NOW.

{I just can’t get over the damn autotune baby. I tried, but I can’t.}

ROCK ME NOW… ROCK ME NOW.

SONG #122: ‘Autotune Baby’ ~ Late Winter 2015

The Madonna Timeline returns in a few short hours with a cut from her 1994 album ‘Bedtime Stories’ – and it’s a bit of a doozy. Not for any surprises or earth-shattering revelations, but more for a specific memory frozen in time, one that exists quietly, softly echoing when the nights first start to go cold. It’s more of a fall timeline entry, but the random shuffle that constitutes the selection process is a fickle taskmaster. Before we get to that, however, let’s revisit two of the other songs that have appeared here from the ‘Bedtime Stories’ album.

It began with lead-single ‘Secret’ – a return to form while blazing a soulful new direction – and no one does that hat trick better than Madonna.

Second single ‘Take A Bow’ was the album’s biggest hit – and Madonna’s longest-running #1 Billboard single to date. She recently performed it for the first time on any tour while on the Asian leg of the Rebel Heart Tour.

Next up is a non-single that marked the defiance and sweetness that characterized the fall of 1994. Dry, brittle, brown leaves lined the streets of Boston. The first deep chill of the season had set in. There would be no more warmth until the next spring.

{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.}

 

I CAN GIVE YOU EVERYTHING THAT YOU WANT

(BITCH GET OFF MY POLE! BITCH GET OFF MY POLE!)

YOU CAN’T BUY THIS AT NO LUXURY STORE

(BITCH GET OFF MY POLE! BITCH GET OFF MY POLE!)

One of the unexpected highlights of The Rebel Heart Tour has been Madonna’s performance of ‘Holy Water’ (yes, a proper tour review is still forthcoming). Previously, the song was a Prince-like throwaway from the otherwise iconic ‘Rebel Heart’ album, but as with most of her live performances, Madonna elevates the song into something much richer and more exciting than its original incarnation.

Cheeky and borderline-blasphemous, it’s classic Madonna, and the lyrics suggest a naughty simile comparing holy water with pussy juice. (Yeah, I said it, no need to wet it.) As I mentioned, I was not initially impressed with the track, but bring in some pole-dancing nuns and a phantasmagoric last-supper scene brought to life, along with that sneaky ‘Vogue’ mash moment, and suddenly I’m on board.

THERE’S A PLACE YOU GOTTA GO BEFORE I LET YOU TAKE IT ALL

IT’S LIKE A DRUG, IT SHOULD BE ILLEGAL

BABY YOU SHOULD GET DOWN LOW AND TASTE MY PRECIOUS ALCOHOL

YOU LOOK SO THIRSTY I THINK YOU NEED IT…

KISS IT BETTER, KISS IT BETTER, DON’T IT TASTE LIKE HOLY WATER?

MAKE IT WETTER, MAKE IT WETTER, DON’T IT TASTE LIKE HOLY WATER?

KISS IT BETTER, MAKE IT WETTER, DON’T IT TASTE LIKE HOLY WATER?

KISS IT BETTER, KISS IT BETTER…

It’s got a sinfully sinister bassline that worms its way into your ear, as well as lots of aural sex hiccups that burst like little orgasms along the trail to sexual salvation. Nobody melds sex and religion as masterfully as Madonna, and even if it’s been done before, it’s still a hoot and a half.

THERE’S SOMETHING YOU GOTTA HIT, IT’S SACRED AND IMMACULATE

I CAN LET YOU IN HEAVEN’S DOOR

I PROMISE YOU IT’S NOT A SIN, FIND SALVATION DEEP WITHIN

WE CAN DO IT HERE ON THE FLOOR…

SONG #120: ‘Holy Water’ – Fall 2015