Is it wrong for a
49-year-old woman to sing about sex? Nah -- especially
if it's Madonna doing the cooing. I mean, if you have
to imagine a horny half-century lady, doesn't
she naturally come to mind?
The
snake-charming beats of the Queen of Pop's new album,
Hard Candy, dissolve any nostalgia for eccentric
turn-of-the-century Madge like an Alka-Seltzer plopped in a
Sprite. Candy producers Timbaland, Nate
"Danja" Hills, and especially Pharrell
Williams, have crafted such catchy confections that
it's hard not to embrace the hour of general vapidity
laid at your feet.
The opening
track, "Candy Shop," is like hot sex on Willy
Wonka's bed. Pharrell's pulsating tribal
beats and Madge's teasing -- "I got something
so sweet...stick-stick-sticky and sweet" -- make
"Candy Shop" irresistible to everyone
but nuns and those wearing hair shirts. She may be offering
up her music rather than her body, but who knows?
Already a radio
hit, "4 Minutes" owes its status more to
featured player Justin Timberlake than to the
song's star; but again, whatever. It's
fun as hell. The next track, "Give It 2 Me,"
is an infectious Pharrell jam that will explode in
Europe and gay clubs everywhere. On the surface it
seems Madonna is saying, "Bang me," but with
lyrics like "They say that a good thing never
lasts / And then it has to fall / Those are the
people that did not amount to much at all... Give me
the bass line / and I'll shake it / Give me
a record and I'll break it," it seems
she's actually saying, "Give me your best
shot" -- a message that blends well with the
album's pugilistic cover image.
There's no
deeper meaning in "Heartbeat," which is
enjoyable but blank; it invites comparison to
Robyn's superior, soulful "With Every
Heartbeat." Thankfully, Candy's
piece de resistance is next, the moving and
hum-inducing, "Miles Away." It's
refreshing to hear Madonna tell a story again, especially a
personal one like "Miles Away," which
describes a relationship made stronger by distance.
It's lamentable she's abandoned softer,
story-driven songs as of late since her voice
sounds better than ever.
With its minimal
beat and quiet melancholy -- reminiscent of high-water
mark "Don't Tell Me" --
"Miles" is Candy's apex.
There's fun to be had in the album's
remainder, but filler is apparent: "Spanish
Lesson," "Dance 2 Night," and the
disco-fied wastes of time, "She's Not
Me" and "Beat Goes On" (complete with
an even more useless Kanye West rap). Amidst the
forgettable is "Incredible," a grower of
a song that goes unexpected places. While Madonna sings
(nasally, for some reason) about desiring the idyllic
early days of a love affair, hip-hop and house blend
together like chocolate and peanut-butter. Nice job,
Pharrell.
Candy's sugar solidifies by album's
end: "Devil Wouldn't Recognize
You" is no hit, but it's intriguing lyrics and
easy-on-the-ears refrain are good enough to compensate for
the fact that it sounds like a rip-off of "Cry
Me a River" or "What Goes Around, Comes
Around." Candy closer "Voices"
is weird and wonderful; it's dark like
American Life and sultry like
"Justify My Love." With this song Madonna
delivers on what the album's title promises: a
treat that's genuinely sour and sweet.
