Madonna has very sticky fingers. This is not to say that Madge is re-releasing her notorious Sex book. No, what is does mean is that her new album, Confessions on a Dance Floor, is an act of larceny on a grand scale. Diverse artists and musicians, both past and present, are audaciously purloined into the service of Mrs Ritchie’s disco opus.
Confessions is an uncompromising pop dance extravaganza. There are no ballads. There are no noticeable ‘messages’ being parlayed here. This is a non-stop, ‘twelve tracks fused into one DJ set’, entertainment-fest. It is solidly aimed not at the heart nor the head, but rather at getting those feet on the dance floor.
Featuring the second ever, official sample from an ABBA record, 'Hung Up' takes the riff from the Swedish hitmeisters ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme’ as the core of Madonna’s most immediate single release since Music in 2000. Hardly surprising then that it shot to Number one in the singles chart. Stuart Price has crafted production on this album that is sparklier than your average glitter ball. Price, under his Jacques Lu Cont alias, produced some of Gwen Stafani’s recent work and ‘Hung Up’ follows the same electro-vibe as ‘What You Waiting For’, right down to the exact same ticking clock!
‘Get Together’ is a softer dance track, very much in the style of her Bedtime Stories album but set to a house beat. “Can we get together / I really, I really wanna be with you” pleas Madge revealing her vulnerable side. Synthy strings sweep us breathlessly into ‘I’m Sorry’, a guaranteed future hit.
Opening the track by saying “sorry” in so many different languages might indicate a penitent Madonna and provide the confessions of the album title; that is until the Pet Shop Boy-style backing vocals undercut the apologies with the repeated riposte, “I’ve heard it all before”. ‘I’m Sorry’ has the melodic simplicity and immediacy of a Stock Aitken and Waterman tune but is swathed in the string-rich arrangement of the 1998 hit ‘Frozen’.
Given that she’s usually so far ahead of the zeitgeist, Madonna albums often take some listening before you get your head round them. Unusually, Confessions is very instant, not least because we know so many of the elements used.
‘Future Lovers’ employs the ubiquitous Giorgio Moroder ‘I Feel Love’ loop and lends the song an immediate familiarity. Using her best ‘My Name is Dita’ voice, we are back in her Erotica territory but with all the sauce on hold.
Harder edged dance comes with ‘I Love New York’, an anthem dedicated to her ‘hometown’ and the breeding ground of her disco roots. Despite some panto-dissing of other urban centres such as Paris, Los Angeles and her adopted home London, she manages to distract from these snubs by some of the clunkiest, most obvious rhyming outside a Paul McCartney song. Whilst “June and spoon” may not feature, Madge rhymes “New York” with “dork”, “mad” with “glad” and “sad” and most tragically of all, “F. off” with “golf” (she even stoops to trying not to pronounce the letter L”).
Despite her vow to keep away from the politics that weighed down her last album, ‘I Love New York’ still manages to squeeze in a tiny swipe at George Bush: don’t panic, if you keep dancing, you’ll hardly notice it.
For a perfectionist like Madonna, it seems surprising that production slickness continues to be undermined by lyrical clumsiness. ‘Let It Will Be’ is riddled with confusing syntax, but that cannot mar a seductive beat, or the compelling ‘Die Another Day’ orchestrations fused with a touch of ‘Candy Perfume Girl’ from her Ray of Light album.
A series of vocoder tweaks on the vocals will not disguise ‘Forbidden Love’ as the album’s weakest track. Despite heavy influences from Daft Punk and producer Price’s own Les Rythmes Digitales, and even some old school smatterings of drum sequence from Human League’s seminal Dare album, the track doesn’t match the pace or intensity of Confessions other tracks.
The breathy talk-singing of ‘Justify My Love’ makes a reappearance on the self-belief hymn ‘Jump’, whereas Stardust’s ‘The Music Sounds Better With You’ is raided for ‘How High’ as Madonna muses on the price of fame. Laughably, there is even a tinge of self-pity as the Material Girl complains, “It’s funny how everybody mentions my name / They’re never very nice.”
Somehow it’s hard to believe that Madonna cries herself to sleep over those nasty critics. She should leave the self-pity to Robbie – he’s far more practiced at it.
On safer ground, Madonna throws a bit of faux-controversy into the mix with ‘Isaac’. Using what they argue is the name of a holy mystic for profit has drawn criticism from some Kabbalist rabbis, but it’s one hell of a good tune. If you’ve ever heard the disco mix bonus tracks on the Yentl album, you’ll have a good idea of this track.
Actually, if you’ve even heard disco-Yentl, you’ll love this one. Beginning with an elderly male voice chanting, ‘Isaac’ builds into a frenzied, percussion-laced, Eastern vibed classic. Distinctive and dramatic (it has not one but two crescendo-riding false ends), it is the standout, memorable track on Confessions.
The repetitive but addictive ‘Push Me’ pays tribute to Mr Madonna, Guy Ritchie, and his inspirational influence on her life. Shame there’s no verse to praise his shirtless appeal!
She saves the biggest and most sincere tribute ‘til last: ‘Like It or Not’ is a wonderfully shameless anthem in praise of herself. “This is who I am / You can like it or not / You can love me or leave me / Cause I’m never gonna stop”. We wouldn’t have it any other way.
In many ways, Confessions on a Dance Floor is Madonna’s omelette album. After making a meal of her last release, the issue-laden American Life, Madge has whipped up a tasty alternative. Taking what’s available from her own musical larder, she has spiced up her own leftovers with some quality ingredients from others for the perfect, light, fluffy, agreeable snack which will instantly gratify those hungry to hit the dance floor.
In a month where the Material Girl’s album release follows hotly on the trail of the Ethereal Girl, Kate Bush's worldly opus, Aerial, let us confess we are grateful that Madonna is not singing about washing machines just yet!
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