Category Archives: Madonna

{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.}

Created during the ‘Bedtime Stories’ sessions, this song was not included in that final funkified R&B slow-swing album, probably for its rather demo-like feel and lack of focus. It was officially released as part of Madonna’s ‘American Life’ follow-up remix EP (the most eclectic and puzzling release ever). It actually would have worked fine as a filler fodder on the original 1994 release, which found Madonna at one of her most casual and carefree musical moments, because it sounds out of place next to almost everything else she’s done (especially the remixed versions of the ‘American Life’ tracks). But no one says no to Madonna, so she had it on.

“NO” IS JUST A WORD
THAT PEOPLE SAY WHEN THEY’RE AFRAID
AND IF YOU SAY “NO” TO ME
THEN I WILL FIGHT YOU TILL I’M FREE

SAY FREEDOM, BROTHERHOOD
JUSTICE, JUST SAY “YES”
SAY FREEDOM, BROTHERHOOD
JUSTICE, JUST SAY “YES”

It’s mostly a rough musical riff or two, stripped down to a couple of guitars and Madonna’s lofty platitudes broken down into simplified cries of “freedom” and “brotherhood” and “justice” – and all of it boils down into a not-so-promising and completely-unfulfilling musical doodle. Bogged down by the whole “justice” angle, this is not one of my favorites.

‘CAUSE “NO” IS JUST A WORD
THAT PEOPLE SAY WHEN THEY CAN’T COPE
AND IF YOU SAY “NO” TO ME
THEN I WILL FIGHT YOU TILL I’M FREE

SONG #131: ‘Freedom’ – Spring 2004

{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.}

Why this plotting thud wasn’t excised and replaced with something like ‘Nothing Lasts Forever’ on the otherwise mostly brilliant ‘Rebel Heart‘ album is beyond me, but here it is. A filler track at best, ‘Best Night’ is Madonna at her laziest, both musically and lyrically.

There’s really nothing more to say, but this is far from her ‘Best.’

YOU CAN CALL ME ‘M’ TONIGHT

YOU CAN BE MY MAN TONIGHT…

SONG #130 – ‘Best Night’ – Spring 2015

{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.}

Smoke hung in the air, gray like everything at that time of the year. Somewhere, someone was burning leaves. It was already November, and fire would inform everything for the next few months. In summer we smolder; in winter we burn. Though the ‘Like A Prayer’ album had been out for two years, I was just getting into the deep cuts, and ‘Pray For Spanish Eyes’ came on the walk-man as I raked up the oak leaves in our endless backyard.

I KNOW FOR SURE HIS HEART IS HERE WITH ME

THOUGH I WISH HIM BACK I KNOW HE CANNOT SEE

MY HAND’S TREMBLING, I KNOW HE HEARS ME SING.

The earth was dry, which was best for raking and bagging, and all life had died back in the frosts and frigid nights of the weeks before. From my hands, decayed and desiccated leaves sifted through my fingers, as if I was Father Time sprinkling the sands of history over a barren land. Beneath the leaves was the brown ground, still scorched from the end of summer.

I LIGHT THIS CANDLE AND WATCH IT THROW TEARS ON MY PILLOW

AND IF THERE IS A CHRIST, HE’LL COME TONIGHT, TO PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES

AND IF I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO SHOW BUT TEARS ON MY PILLOW

WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS? IF GOD EXISTS, THEN HELP ME PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES. 

Looking up, I peer through bare branches and pine boughs, one running into the other, weaving a tapestry of limbs and needles. A cold wind moves overhead. Soon, snow will appear, but not on this day. We teeter on the edge, not quite ready to plummet into winter. It is dreary weather. It ebbs away at the soul with its overriding monotony, the dull way a barren landscape blunts the viewer’s gaze.

HE HAD TO FIGHT LIKE ALL THE REST

IN THE BARRIO ALL THE STREETS ARE PAVED WITH FEAR

I DON’T UNDERSTAND; AT LEAST HE WAS A MAN.

It is a difficult time in my life. The scent of fallen oak leaves will remind me of it in the years to come. A mournful, earthy scent fronted by the tomb-like mineral mist rising from the soil. I look around. A line of black garbage bags stands closer to the house, a conflux of short, abstract watchers, mute and faceless against the white house. The cleared expanse around me looks neat and clean. A small sliver of pride surfaces, but I tuck it away. No one extols the virtues of a spoiled teenager.

I LIGHT THIS CANDLE AND WATCH IT THROW TEARS ON MY PILLOW

AND IF THERE IS A CHRIST, HE’LL COME TONIGHT, TO PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES

AND IF I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO SHOW BUT TEARS ON MY PILLOW

WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS? IF GOD EXISTS, THEN HELP ME PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES.

Seeking a savior of some sort, I search the sky for signs of impending change. Simultaneously, I wish to be rescued and to wreak vengeance. Punishment and forgiveness, banishment and rebirth. I suppose I was seeking God, if God is indeed Love. Where was He? Where was I meant to be? As evening descended, and the grays all around me grew darker, I walked out of the forest back to the house. There was darkness in both places.

In my bedroom, I play the penultimate track on ‘Like A Prayer’ and light a candle in my mind.

This was the album that brought us such emotional tracks as ‘Promise To Try‘ and ‘Oh Father’ – and this song was in the same Catholic and confessional vein. The greatest Madonna songs tell a story – either in their lyrics or their video accompaniment. In this instance, a loose narrative of a savior – it could be Jesus, it could be a soldier, it could be a stranger, it could be a lover – carries through the guitar-laden ballad. This mysterious male phantom figure, perhaps a ghost of her then-recent divorce from Sean Penn, leaves Madonna questioning herself, her love, and the very existence of God.

HOW MANY LIVES WILL THEY HAVE TO TAKE? HOW MUCH HEARTACHE?

HOW MANY SUNS WILL THEY HAVE TO BURN? SPANISH EYES, WHEN WILL THEY EVER LEARN?

In Madonna, I found my savior. In her I found something more resonant than a God who sent his only son to die for others. How many suns will they have to burn? Those suns could be read as sons, and the first-born will always bear the brunt of the burn. 

YOU WERE NOT THE MARAVILLA IN OUR MIND

WE WERE PROUD TO FIGHT BUT WE CANNOT WIN THIS BLIND

STAND YOUR GUNS AGAINST THE WALL, WHO’S NEXT IN LINE TO FALL?

I LIGHT THIS CANDLE AND WATCH IT THROW TEARS ON MY PILLOW

AND IF THERE IS A CHRIST, HE’LL COME TONIGHT, TO PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES

AND IF I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO SHOW BUT TEARS ON MY PILLOW

WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS? IF GOD EXISTS, THEN HELP ME PRAY FOR SPANISH EYES.

My ghostly reflection looks back at me from the window, features smudged in the dirty glass, form abstract and ill-defined. In the darkness and haze, I hide my tears. Even if they ran as red as the blood of Christ, you would not see them. Though they burn my cheeks, I do not make a sound. Someone else will have to speak for me. Amid a flourish of trumpets, Madonna cries out in passion:

HOW MANY LIVES WILL THEY HAVE TO TAKE? HOW MUCH HEARTACHE?

HOW MANY SUNS WILL THEY HAVE TO BURN? SPANISH EYES, WHEN WILL THEY EVER LEARN?

There is nothing to do but sleep. That fall, it is the only place I find peace.

A guitar fades into oblivion.

A whispered prayer escapes my lips.

Tears betray my eyes.

TUS LAGRIMAS DE TRISTEZA

NO ME DEJAN OLVIDARTE

SONG #129: ‘Pray For Spanish Eyes’ ~ Fall 1991

{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 doesn’t always get the credit she deserves for some of her lyrics. Yes, she has a tendency to go a bit banal at times – and I know no one wants another waiting/hesitating/anticipating couplet – but if you dig into her deep cuts there are some jewels of gorgeous poetry at work, such as in this installation of the Madonna Timeline – the miraculous ‘Messiah’ from the stunning ‘Rebel Heart’ opus. The majestic track, with its dramatic orchestral flourishes and impassioned delivery ranks among Madonna’s very best ballads – a blending of ‘The Power of Goodbye‘ and ‘Falling Free‘ with a little ‘Drowned World: Substitute for Love‘ thrown in for good measure. In other words, a track that can cut you to tears – and I absolutely love it.

I AM THE PROMISE THAT YOU CANNOT KEEP.

REAP WHAT YOU SOW, FIND WHAT YOU SEEK.

I AM THE SORCERESS DOWN IN THE DEEP.

I AM THE EARTH UNDER YOUR FEET.

Winter.

The sky is dark gray, despite the early hour.

There is a brutality in the air, in the scent of smoke and snow.

An acrid metallic taste left on the tongue like blood.

An empty stretch of holidays, surrounded by family and friends, and feeling acute isolation.

Forlorn, forsaken, and forgotten – and from that we forge our fortitude.

Or we wait for another to rescue us.

A savior.

… A messiah…~

We seek him in the sky, on every distant horizon.

We wait in joyful hope, on every solemn occasion.

We think he will come, and change everything that’s wrong.

I AM THE MOON WITH NO LIGHT OF MY OWN

YOU ARE THE SUN GUARDING YOUR THRONE

I HEARD THE ANGELS WHISPER TO ME

LOOK FOR THE SIGNS – HE IS THE ONE…

A son who never quite felt loved, who had to go out on his own to find unconditional acceptance.

A man who never quite felt loved, who had to be out on his own to realize his worth.

And I did that.
I went into the world to find what I could not get at home.

It was love – the love of another person who didn’t care that I was gay, who didn’t care what I looked like, who didn’t care that my jacket was Gaultier.

Yet it was elusive.

Hidden.

Unknown.

Fumbling in the darkness, I could not see where I was meant to be.

I could not find the one.

I’LL LIGHT A CANDLE HERE IN THE DARK

MAKING MY WAY TO YOUR HEART

I’LL CAST A SPELL THAT YOU CAN’T UNDO

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

By the light of a candle, late in the night, I chant my prayers.

The flame wavers, distorted by salty water, and multiplies in shards of kaleidoscopic light.

Shadows on the wall encroach on the single source of illumination.

They approach but they never quite reach it.

The light is untouchable.

I’LL BE THE BRIDE THAT IS MARRIED TO LIGHT

YOU ARE THE DAY, I AM THE NIGHT

WEAVE YOU A BLANKET OF SILVER AND GOLD

I’LL KEEP YOU WARM, DO AS I’M TOLD

Loneliness makes us do strange things.

Sick, sad, twisted, desperate things.

A lack of love does that too, until we reach a point where our desperation is written in everything we do.

Hurt begets hurt. Pain breeds more pain. A generous heart is doomed.

We put up with less than we deserve because we have been so beaten down.

For every queen, there is some deluded notion of a dominant king.

Such power plays are deeply ingrained in our history. Their poisonous roots run deep, housed in darkness, buried in cold. They can be masked as protection, disguised as safety, but they rot you from the inside out. The sudden wilt betrays a lifetime of unhappiness.

I NEED YOUR STRENGTH, IT WILL KEEP ME FROM HARM

I’LL BE YOUR QUEEN, SAFE IN YOUR ARMS

DON’T WANT TO GET TO THE END OF MY DAYS

SAYING I WASN’T AMAZED

I’LL LIGHT A CANDLE HERE IN THE DARK

MAKING MY WAY TO YOUR HEART

I’LL CAST A SPELL THAT YOU CAN’T UNDO

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

Then, all of sudden, and just when you were about to give up on the whole thing altogether, the key: acceptance.

Resignation.

It takes a great many battles and wars before there is any sort of peace.

But there – here – it was, arrived at after numerous attempts at love – at the very moment you realized you didn’t need it. Maybe you didn’t even want it. There’s a victory in that too.

A sad victory.

Because not every victory means you won something.

Sometimes a victory is merely escaping certain death.

I’LL LIGHT A CANDLE HERE IN THE DARK

MAKING MY WAY TO YOUR HEART

I’LL CAST A SPELL THAT YOU CAN’T UNDO

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

 

Awakened, you rise and repeat the mantra…

 

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

 

You say it with bone-chilling conviction, with all the desires you ever spent or wasted now conjured like ghosts backing up your army of one.

 

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

 

And all those you’ve ever loved, all those you’ve ever wanted to love you, and all those who didn’t know the first thing about love suddenly dissipate into nothing. It was only ever about waking up to yourself. You have no control over anyone else.

You never did.

No one does.

Love – true love – only arises when you learn to let go.

 

‘TIL YOU WAKE UP AND YOU FIND THAT YOU LOVE ME TOO

 

At the end – and only at the end – they do.

 

SONG #128: ‘Messiah’ ~ Winter 2015

This has already been a Madonna Timeline, but I feel like there’s more to that memory, more to that time in my life, than I was able to convey that first time around. Summer days often come with a tinge of melancholy, a sense of longing that creeps in among the sunny days, leaving a mark like a water stain having dried too soon in the heat.

That summer of ’92 was a haze of confusing emotions as I struggled with unfurling my wings and clipping them at the same time. Such conflicting thoughts left me outwardly stoic and a little paralyzed. And yet I went so far – Boston, New York, Finland, Providence – and back to Amsterdam in the end, where I spent the final warm weeks of the waning summer before my last year of high school.

Madonna This Used to be My Playground [Long Version]

WELL THE YEARS THEY FLEW

AND WE NEVER KNEW,

WE WERE FOOLISH THEN

WE WERE NEVER TIRED

AND THAT LITTLE FIRE

IS STILL ALIVE IN ME…

IT WILL NEVER GO AWAY,

CAN’T SAY GOODBYE TO YESTERDAY…

As the hollyhocks reached the sky, and I plucked Japanese beetles off their leaves, I remembered where I had just been. A stone staircase leading down to a statue of bears, a wedding receiving line covered with a hand-held arch of birch boughs, a dinner backed by the first Cowboy Junkies album I ever heard, and a long stretch of dirty road bordered by the lofty ears of corn.

It’s almost corn season again.

This post was for me. So I can remember. Maybe one day each of those tales will be told, but not yet.

{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 you read my mind, get down and discover me
I’m an open door, let you come inside of me
Wanna put my hands around your neck
Gonna take you to a place that you will not forget

Sex, what you know about sex?
Tell me what you know about sex
Sex, what you know about sex?

Welcome back, Dita. When the world is telling you to shut up about sex, Madonna does what she has always done: talk about sex. While she may never scale the provocative heights of the ‘Erotica’/’Sex’ era of 1992, she continues to be as genuinely controversial as ever, only now it has a deeper, if less pervading, resonance. By simply living her life as a fifty-something woman who still gets turned on by the notion of sex, Madonna is crafting what may be her most shocking reinvention yet. And it ruffles the feathers of a bird that should no longer be quite so bothered by the ruffling.

Madonna and Sex go way back. Theirs is a symbiotic relationship from which each has benefitted in some way. Madonna gets the attention and controversy; Sex gets the promotion and demystification. From the heady days of ‘Like A Virgin’ to the ‘down on my knees’ double-entendre of ‘Like A Prayer,’ Madonna has sprinkled sexual references overt and subtle into just about everything she has done. There was ‘Justify My Love,’ there was ‘Girl Gone Wild,’ and there was ‘Erotica.’ Even in more somber works such as ‘Bad Girl’ and ‘Rain’ there is an element of the sexual.

As for this blatant and blunt cut from the deluxe version of ‘Rebel Heart,’ Madonna re-treads her exciting titillation of the early 90’s, but it’s a saucy echo more than anything with substantial ‘raw meat’ on its bones. The strange thing about ‘S.E.X.’ is that it actually sounds a bit like the bad reviews of ‘Erotica’ from 1992. Back then, Madonna was accused of being cold and remote, and the entire ‘Erotica’ album was maligned as a clinical examination of the topic rather than the brittle musical essay of wanting to connect on a deeper level. On ‘Rebel Heart’ there are sexier and more erotic themes that piggy-back on love in songs like ‘Inside Out’ and ‘Ghosttown’ which means that something like ‘S.E.X.’ pales in comparison.

That’s not to say that this track is wholly without spark. When Madonna ticks off a list of fetishes, it’s equally hilarious and erotic, and if there’s one thing that most of her critics miss it’s Madonna’s acknowledgement that there is not only fun to be had in sex, but humor as well.

Like the act itself, ‘S.E.X.’ the song is a bit messy, but even when it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.

A lesson in sexology, indeed.

SONG #127 – ‘S.E.X.’ – Spring 2015

While it has yet to make the Madonna Timeline, ‘Borderline’ has been resurrected from the deepest vaults of the Madonna oeuvre, thanks to her recent stellar performance of it on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. It would have been difficult to top the first Tonight Show appearance by President Barack Obama, so Madonna managed to perfectly complement the rather dignified proceedings. Three-decades and some change ago, she scored her first Top Ten hit with ‘Borderline’ – and though I was just slightly too young to remember it, it has since become one of my favorite tracks from her debut album. That’s all for the future timeline, however, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves. For now, enjoy this lovely performance of the song, proof that all Madonna needs to do is sing one of her many hits, do a few cute turns around the stage, and bring us all back to the spark that made her so special in the first place. It’s still there. The rebel heart still beats in fine form, and the plucky little girl who only wanted to dance and sing can still elicit rapture. Something tells me she always will.

As for the performance, it was perfection. I know I always say that, but listen to her voice and tell me she doesn’t sound amazing. The girl’s still got it.

A sleeve of ruffled lace sat atop a crystal-studded cane, while a diamond cross dangled in the spotlight.

A throne of purple velvet slowly turned to reveal Madonna, resplendent in a shiny purple-and-lavender paisley suit and ethereally blonde curls. The opening notes of Prince’s own ‘Nothing Compares 2 U’ – most memorably performed by Sinead O’Connor at the dawn of the 90’s – came out of her mouth and the world wept to see the Last Great Pop Star of their generation paying tribute to a recently-fallen one.

No one could have done this better, no one could have made it mean more, and no one else was a more worthy angel for conveying Prince’s pop legacy. As tears filled her eyes, and she sang the words that suddenly rang with greater import than ever before, it was clear that this was the emotional catharsis so many of us needed – a eulogy of priceless proportion, singularly commanded by the only other performer remotely near his legendary level. When Stevie Wonder appeared and began the final walk into ‘Purple Rain’ it was an astounding tribute to an astounding icon.