Wednesday 5 January 2011

1990 Madonna: Vogue

After the celluloid misfires of 'Whos That Girl' and the curate's egg that was the 'Like A Prayer' album, 'Vogue' marked a handbrake turn by Ms Ciccone back to what she does best. By 1990 of course, Madonna was no stranger to self re-invention, but for my own part its all washed over me; I've never bought into any of the imagery and carefully orchestrated, career enhancing changes of style and my appreciation (or lack of) of her always rests on the single dimension of her musical output. And for a song that garners consistent praise from fans and critics alike, I have to confess no small degree of ambivalence toward 'Vogue'.

Saying that, I'm willing to suspend my suspicion and at least acknowledge what she's trying to do here; the problem is that this itself is not endearing and the fact that the concept and theme behind 'Vogue' itself borrowed heavily from Malcolm McLaren's 'Deep In Vogue' did/does nothing to bolster my opinion. Neither does the fact it was shoehorned onto the soundtrack of her then current 'Dick Tracy' movie and used heavily in its promotion despite originating independently from that project and not actually appearing in the film. Yet apart from all that, there was (and is) something deeply cynical about Madonna's deliberate attempt to align her own shining star with those of yesteryear and to set herself up as the logical conclusion to a line that runs from Bette Davis through to Marilyn Monroe (whose image Madonna was desperately trying to see staring back in the mirror at this time).


Then to hammer the point home, 'Vogue' comes equipped with a genre/generation hopping rap that namechecks the illustrious company Madonna was seeking to keep in a shoehorned rhyme of sycophantic starspotting . Greta Garbo, Jean Harlow, Rita Hayworth - all fine, but James Dean and Fred Astaire 'vogueing'? And Joe DiMaggio??? Surely only there to provide a convenient rhyme for "Monroe". "They had style, they had grace" - yes they did, but seeing as Madonna's career nadirs of the limp 'Erotica' album and borderline porn 'Sex' book where were just around the corner,
it's an observation that provides irony aplenty - can you imagine Greta Garbo indulging in such blatant self mytholgising/promotion and cavorting naked with Vanilla Ice? In public? Exactly.

Which is why none of 'Vogue' ever really rings true; regardless of what she thinks, the artist on 'Vogue' is outside looking in, a commentator rather than a participant and the Kobal/Richee lite framing and portraiture of Madonna and her cronies in the video is akin to Elvis flashing his FBI badge to anybody who took the interest to look, too wrapped up in his own daze of self importance to realise that nobody is falling for it.
For me, Madonna remains the trashy disco kid crawling from the wreckage of a string of equally trashy films.

Well that's Madonna, what of the song behind it all? Well 'Vogue' has a feet first house groove for sure, but Madonna's vocal wraps it in Formica to add a brittle, plastic edge of friction to its smooth glide as surely as rigamortis adds stiffness to a once living body. It's a passable hybrid mix and match of whatever Madonna thought were 'in' at that point in time , but it captures neither the glamour of the old or the shock of the new - 'Vogue' confirms that dance music is where Madonna operates best, but this isn't the best of that output, not by a long chalk.


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