Madonna
Confession on a Dance Floor

The luxury of wasting a couple of words on Madonna's latest work, can you grant me that?
Well... our jack-of-all-trades Ciccone, tired of being screwed over in the movies and tired of jogging in Central Park with her kids in tow, thought and thought again (and certainly didn't lack the time) and had this genius idea and said to herself: "Back in '82 I started with Disco Dance and got lucky by breaking through and making it big... let's see if, given that much, I get that much more...". A godsend, right? Armed with an army of dollars and the ability to produce and take THE BEST from the music scene, DJs, etc., Madonna cloned herself and gave us an album "ALLA Madonna" (which isn't exactly "OF Madonna...") using all the cleverness, skills, and that trendy sense that has always accompanied Madonna's work and her entourage.
Compliments abound for manager-Madonna, her strong sense of anticipating times and trends, also relying ON A MEDIA APPARATUS LIKE NO OTHER (this fits...) that alone is worth as much as an average/large Italian company among PR, stylists, designers, marketing managers, advertising agencies, financial brokers, consultants, chefs, personal trainers, and a thousand other such tasks that revolve around and live off her.

It starts with "Hung Up," danceable and enjoyable enough to get today's 40-year-olds, who were dying for her in the '80s, to move their butts (with that Abba sample that even Tonino and Romolo, the butchers below my house, now know about...). Then it moves to "Get Together," and you say, okay... cute, danceable, and '70s/'80s, nothing special but it can go. It's "Sorry" next, and you say okay... cute, danceable, and '70s/'80s, nothing special but it can go. Then comes "Future Lovers" with a Moroder-like intro (remember him?), and you say okay... cute, danceable, and '80s, pleasant with that nostalgic taste of good flavors gone... let's keep going. "I Love New York" arrives, and it feels like you're there, dancing in Studio 54 again, still in the '80s. "Let It Will Be" returns to '80s sounds with the electronic 4/4 beat marking songs heard over and over but, somehow, in Madonna's hands, they seem fresh and lively as a rose, with everyone praising "THE MIRACLE." With "Forbidden Love," the Vocoder returns as well, overused by Mike Oldfield, Donna Summer, and company, and you say okay... cute, danceable, and '80s, nothing special but it can go. Then "Jump" arrives, and suddenly you realize THAT 25 YEARS HAVE PASSED FOR NOTHING. Madonna is always the same, sings like Madonna, sounds like Madonna, in short, the reiteration of what's already been heard in a time loop with no end... the genius has returned to tell us what? What's the new verb? What are the neo-dictates to follow? Nothing: back to the past (shockingly novel?!?). "How High" is a pleasant and cute dive into the '80s disco-dance that doesn't taste like meat or fish. And here's "Isaac" that starts with a tribal world-music singing, and for a moment, my ears perk up. But it lasts a few seconds, finally returning to the dear 4/4 with a piece exquisitely '80s. Now it's "Push's" turn, and aside from the fact that the track presents some pleasant variations in style (a nod to B. Spears and the more recent Hip Hop), it actually makes you want to "push" the eject button. But I wait patiently a few more minutes. We finish with "Like It Or Not," a track that seems a mix between the latest sexy Goldfrapp, the more electronic Garbage, Faithless, and on with at least another dozen references.

I'm exhausted and frankly can't understand such success (or better yet, I can justify it with the great power this woman has to suggest trends, impose sounds and styles that we will carry forward for years... and on this, there's no argument) but the point is that from the music (notice, I SAID MUSIC not from the character, the videos, etc.) I expect more and something else, and frankly, I would never buy an album like this at full price, except maybe sneakily from the Moroccan vendor, just to "hear" what else she has come up with. Like I did (and I apologize). For true dance floor lovers, probably an album to include in the private collection, for everyone else including me, I'd rather spend an hour reading a book, going to the movies, or getting a DVD from Blockbuster. Or perhaps listening to less trivial and trendy music.