{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
SONG #159: ‘Waiting’ – Winter 1993
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