Let's get this out of the way first: I am a straight male and I love Madonna, completely unironically. I'm pretty sure my interest in Madonna coincided with the onset of puberty, but the sort of carnal, illicit appeal she first evoked soon gave way to genuine appreciation for her music. While I was busy opening my ears to the likes of Guns N' Roses, Metallica and Pearl Jam, I was also discovering the joys of "Like a Prayer" and "Cherish."
I used to be a little ashamed of my love for Madonna, finding it easy to assert that I found her hot, but much more risky to admit I also thought she was talented, brilliant and fascinating. But as I matured, so did my love for Madonna, and by high school I was no longer embarrassed to admit that I went out and bought Ray of Light. When I was in college, one of the school's biggest annual parties was a Madonna-themed blowout, and even though I did not dance and never went to parties, I attended the Madonna party three out of the four years I was there, alone and standing in the back of the room, just listening to the music.
Although I'm not a huge fan of pop music, what I like about Madonna is her oft-cited ability not only to reinvent herself, but to know exactly what sort of reinvention will take both her music and her popularity to a new level. The only Madonna music that ever sounds dated is old Madonna music; her current material always sounds of its time.
Madonna's fans run the gamut from the stereotypical flaming queens and vapid girls to music snobs like MTV's Kurt Loder, whose obsession with Madonna, chronicled in interviews and news pieces throughout her career, borders on the pathological. At times, you get the sense that Loder doesn't just love Madonna; he wants to be Madonna.
In a way, I suppose, I do, too, and that's why it's so disturbing to me that the one superstar I've always viewed with a combination of admiration, lust and envy has become so lame. Not that Madonna was ever the pinnacle of cool (what pop star is?), but, although I did briefly feel ashamed to admit I like Madonna, I'd never felt ashamed of her until recently. With her self-righteous embrace of kabbalah, her annoying children's books, her fake British accent and her complete ruining of husband Guy Ritchie's career, Madonna has become exactly the kind of oblivious, self-important celebrity I can't stand.
Obviously, Madonna's always had a huge ego; that's one of the traits that's allowed her to survive so long in the fickle pop-music world. It's her supreme confidence in herself that makes it possible for her to make visionary decisions about her music and career without fearing that she'll screw up. I imagine that even in the face of media scorn and distress on the part of fans such as myself, Madonna has nothing but the utmost confidence in her recent career moves. And even while shuddering at her proclamations about morality, I can't help loving her boldness, and of course, her music.
In preparation for writing this piece, I went to Madonna's website (www.madonna.com) and listened to her new single, "Hung Up," from her forthcoming album Confessions on a Dance Floor. And then I listened to it about 10 more times. It was great; the kind of song I would dance to—if I danced. I remember that even before I questioned her sanity, Madonna did things such as pose naked with Vanilla Ice, star in a movie with Willem Dafoe pouring hot wax on her, and marry Sean Penn, none of which was really much worse than what she's done lately. I may worry that Madonna's lost her edge, but I've yet to worry that she'll do something boring, predictable or compromised. For that alone, I'll weather the criticisms and continue to proclaim my love for the world's greatest pop star.
Josh Bell's favorite Madonna songs include "Bad Girl," "Human Nature" and "Don't Tell Me." Read more of his takes on pop culture at
http://signalbleed.blogspot.com.