Madonna
Hard Candy
Released by WEA/Reprise
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Review - Madonna
Reviewer: Kim Langcake
Rating:
"Hard Candy" signals studio album #11 for Madonna, and as she approaches her much-lauded half-century, one is almost inclined to hand out the gold watch equivalent of reviews. Success, longevity, commitment to the betterment of her chosen field, willingness to go above and beyond the call of duty — surely the only excuse for a duet with Rupert Everett — are all reasons to recognise the sheer impact Madonna has had on the music industry over the past two decades. But do we really want to be giving out aged-concession reviews to the Material Girl?
2005's "Confessions on a Dance Floor" showed a stellar return to form after the desperate mess of "American Life" ("I drive my Mini Cooper and I'm feeling super dooper" from that title track surely being the all-time nadir of white rap lyrics. Not an easy feat to achieve). Expectations for the trajectory to keep going onwards and upwards seemed reasonable. Madonna has made an art form out of taking the best of back-alley subculture, applying some commercially-savvy spit and polish, and releasing to the free world such gems as Vogue, Music and Confessions' Jump. Teaming up with little-known producers such Mirwais and David Orbit gave Madonna's Top-40 makeovers a sheen of indie inventiveness which has often made pretenders to the throne look like the "amateurs" famously described by Robbie Williams following Madge's triumphant leotard-clad performance at the 2005 MTV awards.
"Hard Candy" heralds a change in rules. With an unusual deference to what the kids like, Madonna has teamed up with the ubiquitous Timbaland and Pharell Williams, and has Kanye West and Justin Timberlake along for the ride to cover all bases. Since when has the queen of the Gaultier bra and Erotica needed high-profile Top-40 sure bets to get her sexy back?
The Pharell-produced opening track "Candy Shop" is a predictable fusion of previously trodden chart territory: Justin, Nelly Furtado, even Fiddy. We've heard it before. "The Devil Wouldn't Recognise You" and "Voices" are pedestrian, MOR derivative ballads which only emphasize the thinness of Madonna's voice and lyrics. In "Incredible" we hear the words “unbelievable, unachievable, metaphysical” being warbled, but unfortunately, these form part of a musical tribute to Guy Ritchie's prowess in the connubial sack. Excellent news for Madonna, of course, but for the rest of us, it tends to fall into the "too much information, now give us something decent to dance to" category.
"She's Not Me" provides the sole glimpse of some former sass ("if you spend some more time, I guarantee you will find, she's not me"), but it also serves to highlight the backseat that Madonna appears to have taken with the rest of "Hard Candy". More of the girl and less of the lads, no matter how talented, would have steered this album into more interesting waters.
After seeing the tease cover (Britney, Christina, Paris et al — don't try this, you'll hurt yourselves), expectations were high for a thumping collection of pop-with-a-dance-edge classics. Unfortunately the unthinkable has happened, and the smartest and most innovative collaborator in the business seems to be playing catch-up with her former wannabes — and catch-up doesn't deserve a gold watch, no matter how long the service.
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