We can find consolation, however, in the fact that unlike other artists who release a greatest hits package to sell a new single, Madonna does not sell us short. It is simply too much to ask that all her hits be included in one disc – unless we settle for a more expensive double disc set, or worse, medleys.
This is no Immaculate Collection either. GHV2 doesn’t pack the same dance tunes Shep Pettibone or Goh Hotoda engineered, which made Madonna’s first greatest hits collection the naughty party compilation it was, and which almost forced the Pope to excommunicate (irony of ironies) "Madonna." Only a handful of songs here can be used for the talent portion of Little Miss Philippines – or Lola Madonna. The album title alone is indication enough that Madonna is not riding on the success of her first set of greatest hits. She doesn’t need to stir another controversy.
Instead, she displays the musical prowess that has allowed her not only to survive but to stand out in a decade of garage tunes filled with Alanis-like angst and of convenient teen formulas that mistake whining for angst.
Songs in this album display a serious, mature Madonna, transcending the Papa-praying and virgin-voguing Madonna of the ’80s. With greater vocal ability, wider musical range, and an earnest desire for self-awareness, Madonna proves that pop stars don’t have to be tacky. If you see prosthetics and silicon implants evolve with each successive Michael Jackson and Mariah Carey video, you hear Madonna’s voice improve from the first track to the last.
The album begins with Deeper and Deeper and Erotica, tracks we expect from Madonna. As the album progresses, however, we are shown Madonna’s successful attempts at appropriating various musical genres. At one end, we have Babyface’s melodramatic ballad Take A Bow where Madonna, accompanied by lush strings mimicking oriental sounds, tries different breathing techniques to gain greater vocal control. At the opposite end is Ray of Light, where Madonna hits the high notes amidst a flurry of screaming and jarring electronica. (Madonna doesn’t seem to breathe at all in this song, done when she has just discovered yoga.) In between are sounds that blur the lines between genres – and a voice that will never pass for a diva’s.
Given her limited vocal abilities, it is amazing how Madonna has managed to stay as long in the business as she has. She is the only artist who can get away with songs like Music, a dance hit that grows on you despite the word "bourgeoisie" in its refrain. While most teen sensations objectify desire (e.g., Britney Spears in I’m a Slave for You), Madonna concretizes desire in, for instance, the decade-old Erotica, with more umph and natural sexiness: I’ll give you love/I’ll hit you like a truck. In Human Nature, she responds to her critics: You punished me for telling you my fantasies/I’m breaking all the rules I didn’t make.... Did I say something true?/Oops, I didn’t know I couldn’t talk about sex. Madonna’s songs, in short, signify a consciousness informed by specific ideas and experiences, not popular, factory-manufactured sentiments.
Many observers are captivated by her chameleon-like transformations in her music videos. It’s all image, they say. However, they should also appreciate the exhaustive research Madonna puts into her music. The lyrics tell all. She transforms linguistics into pop music in Bedtime Story: Today is the last day/That I’m using words/They’ve gone out/Lost their meaning/Don’t function anymore. In The Power of Goodbye, she illustrates the paradoxical passivity of Hindu spirituality beautifully: Freedom comes when you learn to let go/Creation comes when you learn to say no. Finally, in Beautiful Stranger, she is having fun while admitting her guilt: I pay for you with tears, and swallow all my pride – proof that even in fancy dance tunes, Madonna is out to haunt.
Surprisingly, this is an album dominated by ballads and songs that are serious reflections rather than naughty pokes at taboo. Towards the end of the album, Madonna shows that even she has outgrown things that first made her famous. In What It Feels Like for a Girl we see the virgin act as a violent form of survival: Hands that rest on jutting hips repenting/Hurt that’s not supposed to show/And tears that fall when no one knows/ When you’re trying hard to be your best/Could you be a little less?. And in Drowned World/Substitute for Love, we get a new perspective on the Material Girl’s old material world: I found myself in crowded rooms/Feeling so alone/Had so many lovers/Who settled for the thrill/Of basking in my spotlight/I never felt so happy.
Will fans be bothered by Madonna’s transformation? Those of us with a Peter Pan syndrome will miss the Madonna of the Immaculate Collection. Nevertheless, growing old can be magical. Madonna’s looks may hide her real age, but her music suggests a wisdom someone in her 40s can only aspire for.
Which makes one wonder: what would Madonna’s Volume 3 sound like? We should hope for the best. If Britney Spears is the next in line to claim the pop throne, Madonna can’t retire yet.