Madonna may be almost fifty, but she wants you to know she’s still oozing sex. She made a career on her sexually provocative image, and it isn't waning (much) with age. Forget the fact that she’s got three pre-teens to tend to at home, when Madonna gets into the recording studio it’s all about using the dance floor as a metaphor for sexuality. Need proof? Check out her stellar new album, “Hard Candy,” in stores tomorrow.
“See which flavor you like, and I’ll have it for you,” she coos on the opening track, “Candy Shop.” After two moderately successful albums, the queen of pop is back with guns (and beats) blazing, teaming with the top hitmakers in what some may say is a desperate move to stay relevant. Yet a few lines into the album, all sense of desperation goes out the window. The truth of the matter is that Madonna does what she does well…and she knows it. Regardless of how she may describe herself, she’s always been a commercial being, and she aims to please.
By enlisting tried and true beatmakers like Pharell, Timbaland, and the go-to guy of the moment, Justin Timberlake, she ensures that she does. These are acts that made careers out of Madonna’s impersonators. Yet most of their collaborations find her vocals meeting with the space age blips and pulses (that are trademarks of the producers) more effortlessly than those who came before her; others may have done it first, but she’s going to do it better. Even Timbaland’s loopy, repetitive beats, that left an imprint on many of the biggest hits of the past two years, seem revitalized here.
Throughout the 12-tracks that make up “Hard Candy,” there’s hardly a moment to breath. Hits come almost as rapidly as adopted babies fly into the arms of celebrities, but any subject matter that doesn’t have a place on the dance floor is left at home. The most personal (and best track on the album) “Miles Away,” about the trials of existing in a long distance relationship, starts with the strums of an acoustic guitar but it doesn’t stay simple for long. Scratching beats start to layer and you can practically see Madonna in a spotlight on a dance floor as she admits “You always have the biggest heart, when we’re 6000 miles apart.” It may be about her husband Guy Ritchie, but as every pop star knows, you don’t make a hit by getting personal, you make a hit by staying universal. It's a rare moment where the fatigue of dancing all night gives way to a true "Confession on a Dance Floor," before the synths rage back up and she reapplies her glitter in the bathroom.
There’s nary a hint lyrically that Madonna worries about her place in the female pop genre that she practically created. Closest is the defiant (with a hint of insecurity) “She’s Not Me,” about a woman who sees herself replaced in a relationship by someone who replicates everything from her hairstyle to her perfume. As if to remind listeners of the most important aspect of the equation, Madonna repeats that “She doesn’t have my name.” True. Britney, Christina, Rihanna…not exactly names you find in the Bible.
Gone are the days where Madonna tries to provoke with religious imagery, for now it seems there’s only room on the dance floor for her ego. Fortunately she has the songs to back it up this time. While there may be a few missteps (“Spanish Lessons” is a painful lesson in how to…speak Spanish), the album stays true to the refrain of one of the songs that promises, “On, and on, the beat goes.” It’s a beat I will happily dance to and one that returns Madonna to the club-friendly music that helped shape her into the bodybuilder she is today.
WHAT DO YOU THINK? DOES MADONNA NEED TO TONE DOWN THE SEXUALITY AS SHE GETS OLDER?
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