More Dancing, Less Confessing
Madonna is good. She doesnâ€šÃ„Ã´t always produce the best music, but she certainly demands attention in every possible way. Confessions on a Dance Floor marks her musical return to a genre most of todayâ€šÃ„Ã´s pop listeners are unfamiliar with â€šÃ„Ã¬ Disco. The album has a handful of truly choice dance tunes (not unlike the entire disco era itself), the kind of dance tunes that slap you in the face and demand that your ass begin shaking immediately. But the rest of the album is repetitive enough to make you want to slap yourself in the face – just to relieve the aural pain.
ame While Madonnaâ€šÃ„Ã´s music has frequently been lost in the hubbub that surrounds her image, solid dance pop is her most reliable niche and she delivers on this album. The strongest tracks are â€šÃ„ÃºHung Upâ€šÃ„Ã¹ and â€šÃ„ÃºSorry,â€šÃ„Ã¹ both well-crafted dance tracks that avoid the dreaded fate of excess repetition or childlike songwriting. But then there are weak songs that drag down the entire energy of the album. Lourdes could have written â€šÃ„ÃºI Love New Yorkâ€šÃ„Ã¹ which includes the laughable lyrics â€šÃ„ÃºOther cities always make me mad/Other places always make me sad.â€šÃ„Ã¹
ame Confessions on a Dance Floor isnâ€šÃ„Ã´t as arresting as, say, almost any track off of M.I.A.â€šÃ„Ã´s album Arular. But donâ€šÃ„Ã´t forget, Madonna is old. Old enough to get a hernia from dancing. Sheâ€šÃ„Ã´s been at this a long time; sometimes her experience wins and she crafts a solid piece of work such as â€šÃ„ÃºHung Up.â€šÃ„Ã¹ Other times her music is less funky, and more perfunctory. Add this album to your playlists on a track by track basis, thereâ€šÃ„Ã´s no need to hear all her confessions.