CD REVIEW: Forget the lyrics on her 10th album; the dance beat carries the day

10:23 AM CST on Tuesday, November 15, 2005

By THOR CHRISTENSEN / The Dallas Morning News

Madonna's 10th album starts off like most of her previous ones – with a throbbing beat designed to get your feet stomping and your heinie shaking.

But a funny thing happens beneath the revolving disco ball of Confessions on a Dance Floor: Madge morphs from nightclub diva into armchair philosopher.

Or at least she tries to. Dance music, by design, isn't conducive to deep messages, so give her credit for trying to sing about fame, family and the meaning of it all in songs such as "Jump" and "Let It Will Be." But inevitably, Madonna gets hung up on her favorite topic – Madonna.

"How High" begins as a warning about the perils of ego and celebrity but quickly sinks to self-pity: "It's funny how everybody mentions my name, but they're never very nice," she sniffs.

By the last song, "Like It or Not," she's blowing a big raspberry at her detractors and smugly telling them, "Celebrate me for who I am."

If nothing else, the self-referential tunes are more interesting than clichéd songs such as "Get Together" ("I really want to be with you/I hope you feel the same way, too") or "I Love New York," which is as stilted as its title.

"I don't like cities, but I like New York/Other places make me feel like a dork," she sings. "If you don't like my attitude, then you can eff off/Just go to Texas, isn't that where they golf?"

The saving grace of Confessions on a Dance Floor is the music – 56 minutes of thumping, shimmering computer pop – and not a single overwrought ballad. Madonna calls it "future disco," but it's mostly a savvy mishmash of old influences such as Giorgio Moroder, Tangerine Dream and ABBA, whose 1979 hit "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!" provides the hook for the infectious single "Hung Up."

Mirwais Ahmadzai – the French producer behind Music and American Life – returns on two tunes.

But the CD's main producer is British DJ-remixer Stuart Price, who engineers ear worms such as "Sorry" and "Isaac," a galloping Middle Eastern rocker featuring Yemenite singer Yitzhak Sinwani.

Some rabbis have condemned "Isaac," claiming it's about the 16th-century Kaballah scholar Yitzhak Luria, which Madonna denies.

But the point is moot. Like the rest of Confessions on a Dance Floor, it's the rhythm, not the message, that matters most.

BOTTOM LINE: Her lyrics are hit and miss, but Madonna gets into the groove and proves she can still pack a dance floor.

E-mail tchristensen@dallasnews.com

Madonna

Confessions on a Dance Floor
Grade: B

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