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On her new CD, Madonna lectures on the crises of modern life. Her
personal crisis is more compelling.  Appeared in TIME.
By JOSH TYRANGIEL
If Madonna's lyrics are to be trusted — and given her penchant for
public disguise, that's a big if — then mark my words: something
ain't right at the Ciccone-Ritchie home. Presumptuous? Maybe. But a
casual glance at the lyric sheet for American Life, Madonna's
bipolar 10th album, proves that at the very least, the world's most
famous yoga-practicing B-movie Cabalist is going through a rough
patch. If you don't believe her words, listen to her voice. American
Life is the first Madonna record that suffers from a complete lack
of exuberance. It's not bad, but like a Prince album without lust or
an Eminem song without rage, it takes some getting used to.
Like Music, Madonna's far more buoyant previous album, American Life
is evenly split between upbeat techno tunes and midtempo ballads.
Most of the techno songs are about the mechanization and
superficiality of modern life. The production, by Mirwais Ahmadzai,
is predictably stuttering and jumpy. The tracks sound fussed over,
but they're also full of surprising grooves and are primed for club
play. It's the vocals that could use a remix. Like Laurence
Fishburne's oddball Morpheus in The Matrix, Madonna tries to
accentuate the plight of humanity by enunciating like a robot. Her
mechanical rap at the end of the first single, American Life--"I'm
drinking a soy latte/I get a double shote/It goes right through my
body/And you know I'm satisfied"--may be ironic, but it's also
thoroughly annoying. There are a couple of other techno dogs, most
notably Die Another Day, which isn't just the worst James Bond theme
of all time (and no, I haven't forgotten Sheena Easton's) but also
the most soulless song of Madonna's career.
Blessedly, there's plenty of soul elsewhere on American Life. For
most of the gorgeous Love Profusion, Madonna wraps her voice — that
candy-coated piece of plastic we've come to know and love — around a
simple acoustic-guitar hook and some achy lyrics: "There is no
comprehension/There is real isolation/There is so much
destruction/What I want is a celebration." She is similarly relaxed
and woeful on Nothing Fails, Intervention and album standout
X-Static Process, which opens with the delicacy of a Gordon
Lightfoot song and peaks with the self-pitying bridge "I always
wished that I could find/Someone as beautiful as you/But in the
process I forgot that I was special too."
These sad songs are pretty good, but they're not eloquent enough to
make you forget the techno disasters or to push American Life up to
the level of Tunnel of Love, Bruce Springsteen's "Who the hell did I
marry?" album. Instead, they just leave you feeling sad for her, sad
for us and curious as to what will come next.

April 28, 2003.
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