If you want to understand where NYLPM’s coming from, consider this: the first time I heard this song I would have forgiven it anything, for the line “music mates the bourgeoisie and the rabble”, which sets Madonna up as the Marie Antoinette of pop (let them eat MP3s, since judging by M’s outraged copyright shriekings that’s what baby Lourdes is going to have to do now Mummy’s income stream is threatened by the naughty pirates – as if). The second time I heard it, nothing could save it, as I realised said line was in fact “…bourgeoisie and the rebel”. Which is horrible and naff. In one word, the gap between vision and folly.
Anyway, since she’s called the bloody thing “Music” we’d better discuss the sonics. It’s very French, Daft Punk, Cassius, filtered house, unfiltered cigarettes, etc. but it compromises too much in the direction of a hook, though not enough to actually get to much of one. It’s very ‘electronic’, but so what? Madonna’s always been a disco artist, and disco means keeping up with things: the French house sound is as near where stuff is at as you’d expect a fortysomething pop star to get. It does strike me as a bit odd that she sings this song about dancing with her baby over music which is really slow, unless of course she means that she is literally dancing with her baby, in which case the fifth-generation Raymond Scott-isms in the production make a bit more sense. Ultimately she has yet to make a better dance record than “Into The Groove”, but then that’s true of almost anyone.