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Category Archives: Madonna

The Madonna Timeline: Song #91 ~ ‘True Blue’ – Summer 1986/1992

{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.}

Hey!
What?
Listen…

I’ve had other guys,
I’ve looked into their eyes,
But I never knew love before
Til you walked through my door…

The title track to Madonna‘s third album, ‘True Blue’, this was a sugary-sweet pop confection recalling the girl groups of the 50’s, transformed 80’s-style. It was the perfect soundtrack to the summer – and that summer was certainly dominated by this album (such as the hot garage moment of ‘Live to Tell’). My memories of the original release of ‘True Blue’ were mostly of the ‘Make My Video’ contest that MTV had sponsored. The black and white nostalgic clip was vastly superior to Madonna’s own soundstage produced blue-soaked effort, Debi Mazar be damned. The song had greater relevance later in my life, in the early nineties.

I’ve had other lips
I’ve sailed a thousand ships
But no matter where I go
You’re the one for me, baby, this I know
Cause it’s true love,
You’re the one I’m dreaming of
Your heart fits me like a glove
 And I’m gonna be true blue, baby, I love you.

I was sitting in the passenger seat of the car of the young lady who would become my first serious girlfriend, riding to a music rehearsal. She played the flute, I played the oboe, and we both needed someone who played the piano. At the very end of spring we drove across the winding roads of upstate New York, en route to this piano accompanist who would be my only guide as I played some three-movement Handel piece for NYSSMA (don’t even ask what it stands for as I can’t be bothered to remember).

I’ve heard all the lines
I’ve cried oh so many times
Those teardrops they won’t fall again
I’m so excited cause you’re my best friend.

The sun was stationed in the clear blue sky. The trees were lush with that chartreuse shading signaling the start of the season. The grass was already high. I looked over at her hair blowing in the wind, catching the faint hint of her perfume as the wind whipped it around. I don’t know why – as we had always been only friends – but this song came on and I had a premonition that we would one day be more. That day would come that fall, but for now it was just a song playing in the car, and we were driving along with the windows open and the spring air filling the space, and the end of another school year was in sight, and I saw the world open up and become just a little bit brighter.

So if you should ever doubt,
Wonder what love is all about
Just think back and remember dear,
Those words whispered in your ear…

You never forget your first love. We were both so innocent then, so unscathed and unrocked by life. You can never get that back, and if you’re lucky enough to share that time in your life with someone kind, someone trustworthy, someone decent and honorable and good – it makes a binding pact with the world that things might be all right. That would prove invaluable – lifesaving, in fact – later in our journey. She would go on to be one of my best friends, and we survived our break-up and somehow became better, and closer, for it. Whenever I felt scared or lonely or lost faith in people, I looked to her. Sometimes I would call her, in the middle of the night, in sleepless college darkness, just to feel reassured. Sometimes I would visit her and her family to confirm that there was still kindness and goodness in the world. Sometimes it was enough just to remember our time together.

No more sadness,
I kiss it good-bye,
The sun is bursting right out of the sky,
 I’ve searched the whole world for someone like you…
Song #91 : ‘True Blue’ ~ Summer 1986/1992
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Back When Madonna Scared the Shit Out Of Me

It had to be done delicately. I set up the plan with my brother’s friend. No connection. No one would ever know. But I knew I needed it. It was my fix. I needed it bad. I would do anything for it. Fortunately, he seemed to understood, gave me no grief, and offered to leave it hidden in the bush in front of his house. I could pick it up after dark on my way home. No one would be the wiser.

At the appointed time, I rode up on my bike, checking that no one was around as I planned my pick up. The night had turned cooler. Dusk was at hand. It was the perfect time to take what I needed and disappear. I inched along the hedge in front of his house and looked in through the leaves. At last I found it. It was a videotape. I picked it up, put it down the front of my pants, and pedaled away, as fast as I could go, without looking back.

Madonna’s Blond Ambition Tour had aired on HBO for the first time the night prior, and I had begged my brother’s friend to record it for me. He did so, and I held in my crotch the videotape of that sacred event. As I rushed down to the basement to watch it for the first time, my heart raced. Yet I was not quite ready for it. The year prior, I had almost smashed her ‘Like A Prayer’ album in my backyard, beneath a rock, for fear of the retribution God would inflict on me and my family for having listened to it. A strict Catholic upbringing ran deep and dark.

“She doesn’t want to live off-camera, much less talk.

There’s nothing to say off-camera.

Why would you say something if it’s off-camera?

What point is there… in existing?”

– Warren Beatty 

Now, a year later, I inserted it into the VCR and watched the show. I made it through the first few songs… but when they got to ‘Like A Prayer’ I freaked out again. The religious imagery, the almost-sacriligious movements… it was all too much for my fourteen-year-old mind to take. I wasn’t ready to give it all up just yet. I stopped the tape. Yes – I, Madonna-fan-extraordinaire – turned off her Blond Ambition Tour.

It would only be another year or so before I embraced it fully in ‘Truth or Dare‘ – the exact moment that cemented my Madonna obsessions and love forever – daring God to strike me down – and begging my parents to get me a laser-disc player so I could watch the broadcast properly. (They did, and I did. Over and over. To the point where I had the choreography memorized – no lie.)

Today marks the anniversary of that tour’s opening, and I am brought to that innocent, and not-so-innocent, time. A lot has gone down since then. But the moment remains a milestone in my memory, and is worthy of note. I’m posting it here for those who remember – and for those who don’t. I’m straddling the line these days.

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #90 ~ ‘Love Spent’- Spring 2012

{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 had all of me, you wanted more
Would you have married me if I were poor?
Guess if I was your treasury,
You’d have found the time to treasure me…

This stunning song, one of the strongest cuts from last year’s darkly gorgeous ‘MDNA’ album, was wisely added about half-way through the ‘MDNA’ tour, given a stripped-down acoustic makeover that made the scorchingly personal lyrics all the more powerful. In it, Madonna scolds a former paramour (likely Guy Ritchie) about preferring her bank account over her love. On paper it sounds a bit trite and forced – in song, and certainly in that live performance, it becomes so much more.

How come you can’t see, all that you need is right here with me?
Up until the end, all this pretend wasn’t for free…

I don’t know what it’s like to be used for my money (mostly because I’ve never a substantial amount of my own), and I’ve certainly never latched onto someone because they’ve had money either (having never dated a rich boy). But I’m told, and I can understand, that money is one of the biggest causes of break-ups and relationship troubles. (Tell it Suze Orman.) I suppose no one knows that more than Madonna, who reportedly moved into the billionaire’s club recently.

Hold me like your money,
Tell me that you want me
Spend your love on me
Spend your love on me.
Now you have your money
Spend it ’til there’s nothing
Spend your love on me,
Spend your love on me.

It’s hard to work up much empathy for a billionaire, but it does add another layer of complexity to the Madonna mystique. Imagine having that kind of money, the worries and responsibility that goes with being a corporation unto yourself. Sure, she has people who can take care of all of that, but how do you trust all of them? And how do you know if you’re being used? There’s whole other levels of worry, doubt, and dilemmas that grow exponentially as your net worth increases.

If we opened up a joint account,
Would it put an end to all your doubt?
Frankly if my name was Benjamin,
We wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in.
You played with my heart,
Til death do we part,
That’s what you said…

To some, this song might be read as another trifle of self-indulgence, but I don’t see it that way. I don’t hear a rich lady complaining about having too much money, I hear a woman crying out to be loved for herself as much as for her riches. I hear a person’s lament at not being the most important part of their beloved’s life. I hear the plaintive request that the passions a paramour feels include those of their partner. In essence, I hear the hurt of someone who will never be all that their loved one wants.

I want you to take me
Like you took your money
Take me in your arms
Until your last breath
I want you to hold me
Like you hold your money
Hold on to me
Til there’s nothing left

That’s a desperate place to be ~ offering your love but being wanted for something else you possess. Whether it’s money or fame or power, so much of life is simply bits for barter, this for that, and so little is unconditional. This is the sound of one of the richest women in the world begging for something more- something that money can’t buy. It is the currency of love.

Love spent
Really love spent
Yeah, I’m love spent
Wondering where the love went
Love spent
Yeah I’m love spent
Really love spent
Wondering where it all went

I want you to take me like you took your money
Take me In your arms until your last breath
I want you to hold me like you hold your money
Hold me in your arms until there’s nothing left.
Song #90: ‘Love Spent’ – Spring 2012
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The Ultimate Inspiration

Whenever I’m feeling down or dejected, unsure or unsteady, I play this performance by Madonna, and I feel a little bit better. I put on the wardrobe for the day, I march into wherever I’m supposed to be, and I rock it like a star. This was Madonna’s Oscar performance of ‘Sooner or Later’, and it never fails to move me.

Here was a woman playing to a less-than-embracing audience (the Academy has never liked her, let’s be frank), and in the face of such veiled hostility she comes through like a champ. If you’ve never been disliked, you can’t know how difficult this must have been. If you’ve never been the target of rumors or gossip or simple talk, you can’t know the loneliness. And if you’ve never walked into a room full of people watching and whispering, you cannot know the immense fortitude something like this takes. I have luckily never had to face such a firing squad – not in this sort of arena – and thank the Lord. But I do know what it’s like to be talked about, to be judged, to be watched and rendered all sorts of things you never were. And that’s why I love this.

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #89 ~’Intervention’ – Spring 2003

{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 got to save my baby
Because he makes me cry
I got to make him happy
I got to teach him how to fly
I want to take him higher
Way up like a bird in the sky
I got to calm him down now
I want to save his life

In the spring of 2003 I was working at the Thruway Authority, in an office of men, in Construction Management no less (quite a far cry from where I began, and where I am currently – in offices almost entirely stocked with women). It’s not a sexist thing to say that working with women is different than working with men. And I hope you won’t find it sexist of me to say that it’s often easier to work with men than women (because I hear that from women far more than men).

Sometimes it’s such a pleasure
Sometimes I wanna tear it all down
It’s easy to be lazy
And hard to go away from the crowd
I know the road looks lonely
But that’s just Satan’s game
And either way my baby
We’ll never be the same

Operating as the secretary to the Director, it was actually one of the more pleasant working experiences I’ve had, not only because the Director was cool but because there was so much less drama. Guys disagree differently than girls – not necessarily in a better way, just differently. I always knew where I stood with the guys, and though they had their own gossipy cliques and catty comments, if you confronted them they’d usually give you a straight answer. The women I had worked with previously hadn’t done that. They’d smile and pretend to like you and then you’d find out they were talking shit about you ten minutes earlier. That kind of passive-aggressive nonsense I didn’t abide.

In the blink of an eye everything could change
Say hello to your life, now you’re living
This is it from now on
It’s a brand new day
It was time to wake up from this dream (from this dream)

But what does that have to do with ‘Intervention’? I’m not sure. It was just the song that was playing in my car as I remembered switching from an office of women to an office of men. And if there’s one person that always gets me thinking about the differences between men and women, it’s Madonna.

Song #89: ‘Intervention’ – Spring 2003

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Madonna & Anderson Cooper

Madonna just presented Anderson Cooper with a GLAAD Award, while dressed as a Boy Scout. Never again ask why I love this woman.

 

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The Madonna Show at Rocks: Tonight!

I’ve always been a fan of drag shows. The fact that a few select gentlemen have the courage and balls (no matter how well-hidden) to put on a dress, paint their face, and go out to put on a show as a lady will always thrill, impress, and fill me with pride. When you throw Madonna into that equation, it’s practically a religiously-orgasmic experience. Such will be the case tonight when Rocks presents ‘The Madonna Show’ at 7 PM.

It’s actually been a while since Andy and I have been to a drag show, too long in fact. But if there’s anything that will get us back into the swing of things, it’s Madonna. The fact that two stellar performers are putting it on – Duchess Ivanna and Penny Larceny – makes it all the more special. Both ladies are nothing short of fierce – and they know how to put on a proper show. (And considering that I’ve been house-bound for the better part of two weeks, I am ready to get out and partay!)

Don’t just stand there, let’s get to it.

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Fifteen Years of Light

No famous faces, far-off places, trinkets I can buy
No handsome stranger, heady danger, drug that I can try
No ferris wheel, no heart to steal, no laughter in the dark
No one-night-stand, no far-off land, no fire that I can spark…

The incantation came three-quarters of the way into the opening track of Madonna’s ‘Ray of Light’ album, celebrating its 15th anniversary today. As I listen to the song now, it resonates differently than it did then, in ways both wonderful and wistful. On this day, Spring seems light years away, as snow falls down coating the outside world in white. Back in 1998, the season of rebirth was in the air at the midnight hour of ‘Ray of Light’s release.

That enchanting evening, rife with mystical magic and musical majesty, has been well-documented in this space numerous times. Today, I listen to the album from start to finish as Andy sleeps and snow falls. It is, literally and figuratively, the morning to 1998’s night. The wondrous thing about the album is that it works so brilliantly in both.

It seems that everyone – even non-hard-core-Madonna fans – has a ‘Ray of Light’ memory. It is, far more than any other period in her career, the one moment when the world collectively came together in love and support of the Queen. Critical notices were glowing, sales were stellar (in spite of the fact that the album failed to reach #1, held down to the #2 spot not by that “damn Bodyguard soundtrack”, but by another cultural phenomenon, ‘Titanic’), and Madonna was back in vogue, ending the tumultuous 90’s as she began it: on top.

This was, even more-so than the glorious ‘Like A Prayer’, the album that solidified Madonna’s musical legacy, defining her once and for all as a serious artist, with a lasting body of work. Listening to the album now, it sounds as classic and pure as it did fifteen years ago, with nary a notion of nostalgia or dated-ness. In fact, ‘Ray of Light’ may be the most timeless of Madonna’s albums, thanks in no small part to its marriage of guitars and electronica, the latter of which might have worked against it, had electronica not been around since the 70’s.

The album also found Madonna at her most melancholy and contemplative, which is where I’ve always felt most connected to her. Sure, there were racing highlights like the title track, and the classic-Madonna-backed-by-Niki-and-Donna dance of ‘Nothing Really Matters’, but at its heart, this was a dark, moody, moving album – less concerned with getting people on their feet, and more intent on getting into their hearts.

It was a spiritual journey, which sounds a lot more lugubrious than the melodies would have you believe, and it’s a testament to the alchemy between Madonna and William Orbit that it worked so well. With its extreme themes of love, death, fame, desire, heartbreak, childhood, and even sanskrit, it’s amazing how cohesive the roller-coaster of emotions ends up being, but Madonna’s voice encapsulates it all, backed by the guitar-based delicacies of Orbit’s music.

For me, the lightning and thunder will always be found in the first track, ‘Drowned World: Substitute for Love.’ Nowhere else has Madonna sounded more genuine, more heartfelt, more emotionally open than on this song. For anyone who has ever searched for purpose in love, or who has been left unloved or unwanted and tried to fill that emptiness with something else, this is the song that should matter most.

The entire album is a movement of meditation. It can be as light and airy as an ambient breeze, or as heavy and rich as a centuries-old tapestry of woven filaments of valuable metals. It opens up to you when you are ready to receive it, changing and evolving with the years, minding your shifting consciousness, touching you in new ways upon every listen. Many of us have that one artist we love more than all others – the one who speaks to you in ways that no one else ever could – whether it’s Bach or Beethoven, the Beatles or Bon Jovi, Billie Holiday or Britney Spears – for me, that artist has always been Madonna, and ‘Ray of Light’ was the record that confirmed it.

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #88 ~ ‘Ray of Light’ ~ Spring 1998

{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.}

Copley Square, Boston, MA ~ On a beautiful Spring night, the very start of the season, he glides in front of Trinity Church. A flowing black coat billows behind him, and it makes him look like a night creature soaring forth from some Frozen video. The throbbing bass pumps through the headphones on his ears, and he cannot hear the drone of blades upon pavement. He flies in front of the statue of Phillips Brooks, taking sharp turns among the rockier cobblestone, then gaining speed as the space opens up before the square. Whizzing by some late-night straggler, he cuts a wide curve, approaching midnight and the expansive green that leads to the library. In the night sky, clouds hover between earth and stars, and the mottled glow of the moon peeks through the wispy blanket. A gentle wind from the West lifts him, and he is flying…

Zephyr in the sky at night I wonder
 

 

Do my tears of mourning sink beneath the sun?
 

 

She’s got herself a universe gone quickly,
 

 

For the call of thunder threatens everyone.

Standing in the midnight release line at Tower Records on Newbury Street a few minutes before the calendar marked March 3, 1998, I listen as her voice fills the space. From the opening of ‘Drowned World: Substitute for Love‘ to the undulating guitar currents of ‘Swim’, this is the premiere of Madonna’s new album, ‘Ray of Light’ ~ her first since the vocal calisthenics of ‘Evita’, and a bit of a proper pop comeback. (‘Bedtime Stories’ had gone some way toward mending the implosion of ‘Erotica‘ and the ‘Sex‘ years, as did her turn in ‘Evita’, but it was ‘Ray of Light’ that would bring her back to the pinnacle of critical and commercial success to which she was rightfully accustomed.)

Along with a growing group of Madonna fans running around the perimeter of the store, I am giddily awaiting to get my hands on her first original studio album in four years. Advance word was that this record was brilliant, and as I listened to her crystal-clear tone, it felt like she had just returned home, to the place where we’ve always wanted her to be: in the music.

And I feel like I just got home
And I feel…
And I feel like I just got home
And I feel…

At that point, working in retail and living in Boston, I was still not sure of where my own home might be. It certainly felt like Boston, but it also felt like Amsterdam, or Rochester, or wherever I found my suitcase and my friends. Sometimes I felt most at home in a strange land, an unremarkable hotel room, an airport gate, or a pair of empty train seats. At other moments I felt home was in the arms of a stranger, a nameless body and a handsome face, a nightly delight of transitory in-between states, both the people and my mind. The ‘Ray of Light’ album informed this period of my life, becoming the soundtrack to one of the most soul-evolving transitions in my life.

Up until that album, I’d made a mess of things in every romantic endeavor I attempted, falling for guys who weren’t interested in me, or acting a fool with those who were. Romance was a scene of repetitive trauma, where the same obsessive mistakes and ill-fitting acts went on, without resolution or improvement, where I poured my heart again and again into situations that today I would balk at, or at the very least laugh. Back then it all seemed so serious, and I was too young to be such an earnest individual. When the opening guitar chords of ‘Ray of Light’ rang out over the speakers at Tower Records, I felt my heart on the verge of bursting ~ for regret, for hunger, for happiness and for hope. It was the moment of an audible shift in perspective. There, in that song, was an instant of sheer joy, as the bass pounded and the beat kicked in, rendering and revealing the moment as both the miniscule role we play in the bigger picture, as well as a representation of the immensity of our place in it. Suddenly it all clicked, and those years of hurt and frustration were left in the dust. I could cry over the sorrows of the past, dwell on the shame and embarrassment, and wallow in the pain of everything I could not control, but the only person who was harmed in all of that was me. In the words of another wise woman, “Ain’t nobody got time for that!”

 
 
Faster than the speeding light she’s flying

 

Trying to remember where it all began.

 

She’s got herself a little piece of heaven

 

Waiting for the time when Earth shall be as one.

 

It was a turning point in the way I saw life. The enjoyment of the present moment could now be seen as a flower in full bloom ~ tomorrow it might fade and fall apart, but that was no excuse not to enjoy today ~ in fact, all the more reason to make the most of it. Romance, once the heavy stuff of dusty Victorian novels, the impossible-not-to-be-dashed hopes of ill-fated suitors, was rechristened into something lighter, far more fun, and thrilling in a giddy way. Men ~ those strange, wondrous, enchanting figures that drifted so dreamily across my mind ~ lost a bit of their hold over my sway. And the moment you stop the search, the moment you really and truly come into your own, when you realize that you don’t need anyone to be all right, is the moment you become tantalizing to others. No one liked a cry baby, and no one wanted a wimp. All those years of moping around and going on about losing out on love were seen at last as a foolish waste ~ the indulgent sort of pain that those in true peril instantly dismiss.

It didn’t happen over the course of this one song ~ though it played a helpful part. It played out over the Spring and Summer of that year ~ and the next time I entertained a relationship would end up being one of the great loves of my life. For now, though, for the summer of ‘Ray of Light’, I was light-hearted and happy and fulfilled by some light play, some unexpected cuddling, and some sexy, sultry nights. It was an awakening.

 

 
 
And I feel like I just got home
And I feel…
And I feel like I just got home
And I feel…
Quicker than a ray of light…
Quicker than a ray of light…
Quicker than a ray of light…

Far more than romance, it also affected my friendships, and, more importantly, my ability to make friends. All my life I’d been almost painfully shy, even as I pretended otherwise. My barriers were always up, emotional weapons ever at the ready, for self-preservation and protection more than anything else, but the end result was the same ~ impenetrable coldness. The inaccessibility of the unloved, and the self-defeating/self-fulfilling whirlpool of swallowed feelings, of a perpetually downward spiral… well, at its most basic, I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I didn’t want to be less-than-perfect. And perfection is both icy and wearying. It’s hard to love a perfectionist, and even harder to know what, if anything, about a perfectionist is real ~ because perfect people simply don’t exist. Once I stopped pretending, once I revealed my foibles and stumbles, admitted my ignorance, and loosened up on the hair product, I was much better company.

On a Spring night a few days after ‘Ray of Light’ was released, I had my friend Simon over for drinks. He was a straight guy ~ one of the few who worked at Structure at the time ~ and we shared a cocktail or two before heading out into the night. I asked if he wanted to come along while I tried out a pair of rollerblades (proof that I truly no longer minded making a fool of myself in front of people). I donned a ridiculously dramatic black coat that fluttered behind me in the breeze. I went slowly at first, as he was on foot, circling around as we chatted about work and other nonsense. This, then, was what others did ~ they talked with co-workers, they shared silliness, they slowed and accelerated to keep up with friends. We neared Copley Square, where Simon would get on the T, and I’d get to go as fast as I could in the open expanse of the space in front of Trinity Church. I turned my headphones up, and as the high-pitched scream near the end of the song sounded, I joined Madonna in falsetto-bitch madness, screaming at the top of my lungs. I couldn’t hear myself with the headphones on, but I saw Simon turn around, look at me like I was crazy, then bust out laughing.

Zephyr in the sky at night I wonder
Do my tears of mourning sink beneath the sun?
She’s got herself a universe gone quickly,
For the call of thunder threatens everyone.

I returned to my parents’ home in upstate New York for some of that summer, and Madonna was on the Oprah Winfrey show, where she performed ‘Ray of Light’ live for the first time. She looked radiant, relaxed, and gleeful. There had been tornado warnings that week, and thunderstorms stalked the area (there was even a Storm Watch warning that got recorded during the show, somewhere on that long-lost VHS tape), but at the end of the tumultuousness came the sun. That season of ‘Ray of Light’ found me having fun in Rochester, and Albany, and even Amsterdam. I bounced around to several places, taking Madonna’s cue for a more relaxed and less severe stance on life. I wore the remnants of some old beads I’d had from the ‘Like A Prayer’ days, lined my arms with ratty hemp bracelets, flirting with the ease of faded denim and hippy accents like a re-born flower child. And I found a glimpse of love here and there, not allowing myself to get bogged down with it, not allowing myself to stay anywhere for too long, but just enough to sustain the heart. In that way, I learned not to settle, even if not settling had its price too.

A few weeks later, I found myself walking along the tracks of a train terminal, coming or going from Boston, with this song running through my head. Luggage weighed down both my hands, but the sun shone brilliantly amid the departing and arriving trains, and my heart was light as the day. Perhaps this was my home ~ this perpetual state of journeying, this place of transitory transit ~ and perhaps home wasn’t a place, but a frame of mind. If that proved to be true, then maybe we’ve always been home all along, we just didn’t know it. It may not erase the terrors of the past ~ and that Wizard-of-Oz-like journey will never be completely forgotten ~ but it makes the way of the future a little easier to bear.

And I feel…
Quicker than a ray of light
Then gone for
Someone else will be there
Through the endless years
She’s got herself a universe
She’s got herself a universe
She’s got herself a universe

As a song, ‘Ray of Light’ was a momentous milestone in Madonna’s creative trajectory. It was an instant classic, and a high-point on her greatest studio album to date. While live performances have occasionally been spotty (a wretched VMA’s that year, and a dismal high note at a Live Aid event), she’s performed it admirably on a number of tours ~ perhaps too many, as its overexposure by the time ‘Sticky and Sweet’ came around almost made it feel like filler. I still think her straightforward reading of it (without playing guitar) on the Drowned World Tour was my favorite.

The video is a hyper-kinetic sped-up view of a day in the world, the first of a relatively long line to be directed by Jonas Akerlund. For some reason, this effort always felt a bit hollow, especially for the title track of such an epic album. Madonna is almost a supporting player in the tapestry of life that moves at break-neck pace across the screen, but it works in showing that she’s just a bit player in the universe too, so I guess I’m just being selfish in wanting to see more of her.

And I feel
And I feel
And I feel like I just got home
And I feel…

As for me, ‘Ray of Light’ will always be remembered as the song of the summer in which I learned to let the past go, and to love and laugh and live in the moment. It will always be one of Madonna’s greatest lessons ~ finding the simple joy in music ~ and whenever I find myself bogged down by dismal dwelling or onerous worries of future events, I think of this song, it takes me away, and together we soar.

Quicker than a ray of light she’s flying…
Quicker than a ray of light I’m flying…
Song #88: ‘Ray of Light’ ~Spring 1998
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In the Midnight Hour… A Ray of Light

Tonight I’ll be posting the next Madonna Timeline – at midnight. It’s a very special one, as the iPod has selected ‘Ray of Light’ as the next featured song, just in time to coincide with the 15th anniversary of that album’s release. Fifteen years ago tonight I was waiting in line at the Tower Records in Boston to pick up her greatest album to date (personal opinion of course). I remember the moment distinctly – they were playing the album as we waited, and as soon as I got home, I put it on the stereo, and listened to it in its entirety. It didn’t matter that I had to go to work the next day, or that I was lying on a cold hardwood floor – I listened and I dreamed and I took that musical journey. To this day, ‘Ray of Light’ remains my favorite Madonna album, spawning my favorite Madonna song, and a rather miraculous title track – coming up at midnight…

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In Like A Virgin Lion, Out Like A Lamb

And so we bid another Winter month good-bye – the last full one of this dismal season – but March has a way of lingering longer than we anticipate, and most of our worst storms seem to come at this time of the year, when we’re at the end of our rope. Luckily, March is also the time of the year when magical things happen, especially concerning Madonna. Rather than look back over the last month, let’s focus on what is about to come. My next Madonna Timeline will coincide with the 15th anniversary of the release of ‘Ray of Light’, and it just so happens that the iPod has shifted to the title track as the next selection. That album informed a number of momentous highlights so far, like ‘Frozen‘ and ‘Drowned World: Substitute for Love‘. This one will be a lighter take on things, as ‘Ray of Light’ is one of her most joyous cuts, and Spring deserves something buoyant, brave, and brilliant. Let’s see if I can rise to the challenge.

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #87 ~ ‘Beautiful Killer’ – Spring 2012

{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.} 

Dark eyes on a dangerous face you are a beautiful killer
We pass by the same old place you are a (beautiful killer)
You don’t have a life, you have blood on your hands
You can sleep at night and I don’t understand
I don’t know much about you are a wanted man…

Driving along a Massachusetts highway, the dirty piles of sand and salt at the end of winter lining the barren road, I turn the bonus tracks of MDNA up a little bit louder. Sometimes good music needs to be racked up a few notches to get the best effect. I’m speeding along to pick up a friend. There is business that needs to be finished. Plans to be finalized. A job to complete. And this one I cannot do alone.

You can call my name and I’ll be around
Maybe I’ll let you shoot me down
Cause you’re a beautiful killer, with a beautiful face
A beautiful killer and you won’t leave a trace

Black leather gloves grip the steering wheel. Aviators shade the eyes. A bag sits in the passenger seat – a bag that I will carefully move when I pick her up. The contents are precious, maybe only to me, but that’s the most kind of precious there is, for any of us. She’ll understand. She’ll know. She’ll go along with what needs to be done.

Do you know the reasons why you are a beautiful killer?
Hurt yourself but you never die, you are a beautiful killer…
I like your silhouette when you stand on the streets
Like a samurai you can handle the heat
Makes me wanna pray for a haunted man…

You can call my name and I’ll be around
Maybe I’ll let you shoot me down
Cause you’re a beautiful killer with a beautiful face
A beautiful killer and you won’t leave a trace
Can’t really talk with a gun in my mouth
Maybe that’s what you’ve been dreaming about
Cause you’re a beautiful killer with beautiful eyes
A beautiful killer and I love your disguise…

I turn off the highway, drive through a quaint-enough town, and find her street. I’m a little early. The text arrives that she is almost there. I wait in front of her house. There is time to go through the bag one last time. Everything is in order. I zip it up and place it in the back seat. The sun is beginning to go down, slivers of an almost-crimson last gasp of daylight splinter through the windshield. Beauty can be broken glass framed in blood, but I’m wearing gloves, and I’m not afraid.

You changed the past
Good guys always finish last
What happens now?
I need to know how the story goes
Are we together?
I love you forever…

Another text. She is near. Soon she will round the corner. She’ll take the kids inside, and then she’ll open the car door, and we will be off. In killer boots and tight black pants, short-cropped hair and nothing to lose, she’ll swing her bag into the back-seat next to mine. Back on the highway, the city just ahead of us, we will finalize the last steps we need to take.The steady strumming of an electric guitar pushes us along. Buildings rise out of the sudden darkness. A mini string battle comes after the bridge, the song breaking up for a moment before the beat comes back in, hand claps offering some seemingly harmless relief, but we know better. We know there is always something more to come, something more dangerous, more sinister. I grip the steering wheel tighter as we reach the site of the rendezvous.

You can call my name and I’ll be around
Maybe I’ll let you shoot me down
Cause you’re a beautiful killer with a beautiful face
A beautiful killer and you won’t leave a trace…

We unload the car quickly in the cloak of night, furtively hurrying up unlit staircases, depositing supplies, then locking the doors behind us as we park a few blocks away. There is time for one last dinner- just the two of us – before our work begins. We relax a little, even laughing a bit. Scoping out the restaurant, our agreement goes unsaid. A shot of tequila, then the salty rim of a margarita. A sangria for the lady. Nothing too strong to dull the senses, just something to take the edge off the anticipation.

Can’t really talk with a gun in my mouth
Maybe that’s what you’ve been dreaming about
Cause you’re a beautiful killer with beautiful eyes
A beautiful killer and I love your disguise…

We are in the city to prepare for a friend’s 40th birthday. It will be held at the condo the next day. The supplies – the bag – all filled with party preparations. The restaurant – a test for a possible post-party gathering. The partner-in-crime – my friend Kira, who is helping me throw the party. The song – ‘Beautiful Killer’ – the one that was playing as I made my way to her home to pick her up. The party – a killer success.

You’re a beautiful killer, but you’ll never be Alain Delon. 

Song #87: ‘Beautiful Killer’ – Spring 2012
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The Madonna Timeline: Song #86 – ‘I’d Be Surprisingly Good For You’ – Late Fall 1996

{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.}

It seems crazy but you must believe
There’s nothing calculated, nothing planned
Please forgive me if I seem naive
I would never want to force your hand
But please understand, I’d be good for you
I don’t always rush in like this
Twenty seconds after saying hello
Telling strangers I’m too good to miss
If I’m wrong I hope you’ll tell me so
But you really should know, I’d be good for you
I’d be surprisingly good for you…

The tedium of the fall of ‘Evita’ has been well-documented on the Madonna Timeline, so for this one, which is really an after-thought after such monstrosities, I have nothing but one tiny memory of waiting in the basement of one of the Brandeis buildings, and hoping with all my might that the object of my affection would find his way downstairs to use the restroom, and then planting a kiss on him out of the blue.

It was, thank God, one of the few bad ideas that I didn’t follow through on. Every once in a while, I have an ounce of sense that bubbles to the surface, breaks, and saves me from inestimable embarrassment. Not often, but once in a while…

I won’t go on if I’m boring you
But do you understand my point of view?
Do you like what you hear, what you see
And would you be, good for me too?
I’m not talking of a hurried night
A frantic tumble then a shy goodbye
Creeping home before it gets too light
That’s not the reason that I caught your eye
Which has to imply, I’d be good for you
I’d be surprisingly good for you.
Song #86 – ‘I’d Be Surprisingly Good For You’ – Late Fall 1996
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The Madonna Timeline: Song #85 ~ ‘Gang Bang’ – Spring 2012

{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.}

Like a bitch out of order,
Like a bat out of hell
Like a fish out of water
I’m scared, can’t you tell?
Bang bang.
Bang bang.

Some songs make you want to do bad things. Very bad things. A sinister bass line, a blast of guitar, a vicious whisper – all add up to the daring drama of ‘Gang Bang’ -the next selection for the Madonna Timeline. From her latest (and sorely under-rated) ‘MDNA’ album, this is Madonna’s return to controversial form. Many fans have likened the song to a throwback from her dark ‘Erotica‘ opus, but this goes a bit further, and finds our maiden/mistress at her angriest. ‘Gang Bang’ is fully loaded, and aimed squarely at the heart of the one who has done her wrong. (In this instance, coming in the aftermath of her divorce from Guy Ritchie, it’s hard to read anything other than a savage revenge play made against her ex-husband.)

I thought you were good,
But you painted me bad.
Compared to the others,
You’re the best thing I had.
Bang Bang, shot you dead.
Bang Bang, shot you dead.

The thing that has always struck me about Madonna, and a fact that many of her detractors have a hard time believing, is that most of her anger and acting out is a rather transparent display of hidden hurt and buried heartache. It’s hard to get truly mad at someone who comes from a place of sadness and loss, even if they do their best to turn it into something bitter and defiant.

I thought it was you,
And I loved you the most.
But I was just keeping
My enemies close.
I made a decision,
I would never look back.
So how did you end up
With all my jack?
Bang Bang, shot you dead.
Bang Bang, shot you dead
in the head.

Her performance of this song on the MDNA Tour was filled with guns and violence, and even in a pre-Sandy Hook world this was tough to watch. I’m not going to get into a gun-control debate here, though. It’s a Madonna song. You read into it what you want, and I’m not going to argue about it.

Bang Bang, shot you dead, shot my lover in the head
Bang Bang, shot you dead and I have no regrets
Bang Bang, shot you dead in the head
Bang Bang, shot you dead, shot my lover in the head.

All I can do is remember what it made me feel. This is one of those driving songs, the soundtrack to those times when you simply get in the car and drive with no destination in mind – you just want to get out of the house, away from your husband, and away from a life that sometimes seems at odds with everything you once dreamed. It’s the ultimate lashing out of anger, the purging of pent-up emotions, and, if you’re careful, a safe release of the madness that lurks somewhere in the midst of the happiest marriage.

And then I discovered
It couldn’t get worse
You were building my coffin
You were driving my hearse
Bang Bang, shot you dead
Bang Bang, in the head.

A confessional piece of pop art like this song can sometimes afford an easy reconciliation. Listening to it may quell the stupid fights, the ones over the small things. It’s no substitute for communication and figuring the big issues out, but I’m the first to admit that most of our fights (and not just between Andy and myself, but most of us) are over the small stuff.

I thought it was you
And I loved you the most
But I was just keeping
My enemies close
I made a decision,
I would never look back
So how did you end up
With all of my jack?
Bang Bang, shot you dead, in the head.

Every once in a while, though, I’ll get in the car, and there is no relief. There’s nothing left to be reconciled, there’s nothing left to alleviate, and there’s nothing left in me to forgive, and that’s when the song turns just the slightest bit dangerous. We all have our breaking points. We all have the capacity to hurt, and to get hurt. And in the end, we all bleed.

Bang Bang, shot you dead, shot my lover in the head
Bang Bang, shot you dead and I have no regrets
Bang Bang, shot you dead, in the head
Bang Bang, shot you dead, shot my lover in the head
You had to die for me baby
How could I move on with my life
If you didn’t die for me baby?
If you didn’t die for me baby?
I need you to die for me baby…

How far removed are we from the murderers and killers? How far apart are we from the person who, for that one moment, snaps and cracks and pops one in the head of the one who hurt them? We all like to think it’s so unfathomable, so far from who we think we are, from what we think we could do. But until you’re there, until you’re the one getting that shit heaped upon you, you’ll never know.

Bang Bang, shot you dead, shot my lover in the head
Bang Bang, shot you dead, shot my lover in the head
Bang Bang, shot you dead, shot my lover in the head
Now my lover is dead, and I have no regrets.
He deserved it.
And I’m going straight to hell
And I’ve got a lot of friends there
And if I see that bitch in hell
I’m gonna shoot him in the head again
Cause I wanna see him die
Over and over
And over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over…

To be honest, it’s not my favorite song from the album, despite how much many other fans seem to love it. (It was instantly heralded as one of her best, and the end result didn’t live up to the hype in my head.) I do think it would have made a killer video, and Madonna did put out feelers for Quentin Tarantino to direct it (oh how I wish that had come to fruition), but as of this writing it hasn’t panned out. For now, it’s a nifty vessel for channeling the rage we usually feel at one point or another, and every once in a while I’ll turn it up, back the car out, and drive.

Now drive bitch!
I said drive bitch!
And while you’re at it, die bitch!
That’s right drive bitch.
Now if you’re gonna act like a bitch,
Then you’re gonna die like a bitch.

Song #85: ‘Gang Bang’ – Spring 2012

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The Madonna Timeline: Song #84 – ‘Candy Shop’ ~ Spring 2008

{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.}

See what flavor you like and I’ll have it for you,
Come on into my store, I got candy galore
Don’t pretend you’re not hungry, I’ve seen it before
I got Turkish delight, baby and so much more.

We need a little levity of late – things have gotten decidedly too dour and dreary, even if we are ensconced in the midst of winter. To that end, the iPod has shifted to ‘Candy Shop’ – one of my least favorite Madonna songs, but one that has enough cheeky silliness to attempt a slight smile. From the moment the demo first leaked, and through all of its live incarnations, I have not been left with a sweet taste in my mouth. Instead, I find myself trying to find the decent melody and hook that Madonna has consistently delivered – and every time I can’t. I think it fell short of its metaphors, and wanna-be street-cred, and failed miserably. As the quasi-title track from her ‘Hard Candy’ album, it was supposed to be all high-sugar, super-sexy concept, but never quite succeeded. You cannot build an entire album around a trifling concept and a few leftover Pharrell beats – and in this case you can’t even build a single song out of it.

All these suckers are not what we sell in the store
Chocolate kisses so good you’ll be beggin’ for more
Don’t pretend you’re not hungry, there’s plenty to eat
Come on in to my store ’cause my sugar is sweet

The lyrics are whimsically serviceable enough, shot through with enough possible double-entendres to remind that this is still Madonna, and she can still be quite cheeky, but in today’s world of salacious naughtiness, this is more safe-fun than scintillatingly-provocative. Madonna is at her best when she is at her most risky – either in boldly controversial moves, daringly personal revelations, or shockingly good musical turns. This lackluster track misses all those marks. Wisely, despite its title tie-in, ‘Candy Shop’ was never a single off of ‘Hard Candy’ – the much-more-impressive ‘4 Minutes’ was the kick-off – but Madonna still chose Candy to lead the Sticky and Sweet Tour, making it one of Madonna’s least memorable tour openings.

My sugar is raw (sticky and sweet)
My sugar is raw (sticky and sweet)…

What does “My sugar is raw” even mean? I texted it to all my friends and only got a flurry of puzzled responses. “The purple moose flies at midnight” being one, “Bareback sugar is what’s up” went another, and then there was this from Suzie: “Raw sugar is the way to go in coffee fo sho.”

As for this song in the Madonna canon, it will likely settle near the bottom. I can’t even get a quick sugar-high from it. Most egregiously, the cover art for this album is a let-down, being a horrid cob-job of a bad photo shoot, and an even-worse use of photoshop. (By the way, I don’t care what the kids in Narnia say, Turkish delight is not that great.)

Song #84: ‘Candy Shop’ ~Spring 2008
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