{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.}
When did your name change from a word to a charm?
No other sound makes the hair stand up on the back of my arm
All of the letters push to the front of my mouth
And saying your name is somewhere between a prayer and a shout
And I can’t get it out…
The road is dark, but it’s a clear stretch for a couple of miles. It’s still early in spring, but this night is just warm enough to open the windows and slide back the sunroof. I reach my hand into the rush of air, feel it push against my skin then move beyond. I’m driving along the back roads of upstate New York, listening to Track 3 of the new Madonna album, ‘MDNA’. As on all her records, there are a few stand-out tracks that instantly take up residence in the ear, songs that you feel emotionally, viscerally, and all-encompassingly. ‘I’m Addicted’ is one of them. I crank up the volume and the car picks up speed.
When did your name change from language to magic?
I write it again on the back of my hand, and I know it sounds tragic
Fame’s like a drug and I can’t get enough and it fits like a glove
I’m addicted to your love
I’m addicted to your love
I’m addicted to your love…
The same excitement that accompanies the release of every Madonna album is palpable in the air. It will, I hope, always be that way for me. Other passions may ebb and wane, but Madonna has always managed to inspire. This night proves no different. I’m as giddy as I was on the nights that ‘Erotica’, ‘Bedtime Stories’, ‘Ray of Light‘,’Music‘, ‘American Life‘, ‘Confessions on a Dance Floor‘, and ‘Hard Candy‘ were released. And the best place to listen to new music is in the car – in solitude, in motion, in tune with the driving beat.
Now that your name pumps like the blood in my veins
Pulse through my body, igniting my mind, it’s like MDMA (and that’s ok)
Fame’s like a drug and I can’t get enough and it fits like a glove
I’m addicted to your love
I’m addicted to your love
I’m addicted to your love…
Street lights whiz by overhead, the wind swirls madly in and out of the car, and in a way the whole universe is dancing – the stars in the sky, the glistening raindrops left from earlier, and the glowing dashboard. We move together, at ear-throttling volume and break-neck speed, as her voice simultaneously rises and deepens at this, the climax of the whole thing, the whole night, possibly the whole album:
I need this exchange
I don’t care if you think that I’m strange
Something happens to me when I hear your voice
Something happens to me and I have no choice
I need to hear your name
Everything feels so strange
I’m ready to take this chance
I need to dance…
Release, relief, and utter abandon. If I could have lived my whole life like I feel at this moment – a perpetual high, a lofty joy – I might have made something more out of everything. Instead, these occasional Madonna peaks will have to do. I ride it tonight, soaring like the smallest water droplet on the crest of the wind, careening through the night sky in gleeful amazement and wide-eyed wonder. I can’t wait to do it again.
