Rightfully so, there has been no shortage of “homage pieces” (different from “think” ones in that they’re often even more forced) to respect one of the few remaining legends of a bona fide “star” caliber–not just in the music arena, but in all aspects of what that word once used to mean. Madonna, who somehow turns sixty as of August 16th, is deserving of all of these “reverent” accolades. However, most of them fall short for two very distinct reasons: 1) where was all of this ass licking when Madonna wasn’t hitting an important milestone? and 2) none of the genuflection addresses Madonna’s most important strength–her not so secret weapon for longevity.
That weapon that’s so clearly expressed with pride and force in “4 Minutes,” which, yes, somewhat unfortunately features Justin Timberlake (but at least it was before his Man of the Woods period). His presence aside, Madonna’s exigency in all respects radiates through the Timbaland introduction, “I’m outta time and all I got is four minutes,” repeated until Madonna laments–as much as Madonna can lament (in anything other than the song “Lament”)–“Come on boy, I’ve been waiting for somebody to pick up my stroll.” Referring to the fact that, in comparison to everyone else wasting their time going about their already non-life changing tasks, she’s Speedy mothafuckin’ Gonzalez a.k.a. her pace feels like a stroll, while to others, it would be a sprint, Madonna further explains, “I want somebody to speed it up for me, then take it down slow–there’s enough room for both.”
Yes, possibly. When you have the superhuman abilities of Madonna. Even in spite of her Leo-expected cockiness, Madonna still feels the pressing of time as she insists, “Time is waiting–we’ve only got four minutes to save the world.” This, of course, speaks not only to all Madonna has accomplished in her vast career, but also her current and devoted commitment to actually saving the world (money can do that, you see) via her Raising Malawi platform. But back to the artistic output side of things, Madonna’s genius has lied in her tirelessness. Her relentless ability to keep going even when everyone–men and women–insisted that she just shut the fuck up. Alas, Madonna has no minutes in her schedule to while away on these detractors, knowing full well the value of time–most particularly as she loses more of it with the advent of sixty. The image of her screaming to her first manager, Camille Barbone, before she got famous, “I’m getting old!” when she was still in her early twenties is a testament to how aware she is of time as a commodity (a commodity that augments tenfold as a female pop star in the endlessly sexist and ageist music industry). On this note, her reminder, “If you want it, you’ve already got it,” addresses that she’s long been the only pop star cognizant of how best to tap into her power. Prince, Michael and Whitney all fell prey to their demons in one way or another eventually. Conversely, Madonna used these demons–her rebellion against her father, the loss of her mother at a formative age and a general contempt for following the rules–and channeled it all into her work, her creativity.
Year after year, project after project, fueled by a race against time–four minutes, tick tock tick tock tick tock–and an unquenchable thirst for being the best, proving everyone wrong when they said she couldn’t or shouldn’t do something. So she did it, continuously, perhaps long ruminating over the lyrics to “4 Minutes” (something of a continuation or companion piece to “Love Song” and “Hung Up”) in the back of her mind well before she ever came upon the age of sixty (or fifty, the year she turned in 2008 when “4 Minutes” was released as the first single to Hard Candy). “If you feel it, it must be real–just say the word and I’ma give you what you want.” And so she has done just that for the past three-plus decades in the face of a clock and a public that only goads her to persist.
For sixty years, she’s been feeling the crunch, imbuing her with a power that we have all admired and felt at one time or another. Now if only more of us could heed it as an example of the human capacity for greatness, fortitude (Fortintude, as Madonna Sr.’s side of the family referred to it–her maiden name being Fortin)–so very much shot to shit of late.
And, as the song concludes, one of the most chilling lines in terms of its resonance and veracity remains, “But if I die tonight/At least I can say I did/What I wanted to do/Tell me, how ’bout you?” Madonna has always done exactly what she’s wanted to. When people were telling her it was wrong, it was a scandal. That she was old, irrelevant. She might just be the only consistent living instance of this thing we read about (Madonna fans better fucking read) in books. The beacon of living well and doing it all on your own terms no matter what the critics say.
https://youtu.be/bHHUhcV2eVY
