Of course, there have been many Madonna tribute albums in the past. From Virgin Voices to Through the Wilderness (which featured Ariel Pink’s version of “Everybody”), an entire musical genre has been created out of Madonna covers—granted, never ones by anybody really that famous or who could truly outshine the original composition. Until the Italians Do It Better record label came along to remedy the situation.
Released in honor of Madonna’s sixty-third birthday (a fact that makes the record all the more divine because it isn’t even a milestone and because Madonna actually spent her birthday in Italy), the label’s founder, Johnny Jewel, acknowledges that its moniker is a nod to the immortal t-shirt in Madonna’s 1986 “Papa Don’t Preach” video (directed by James Foley). The “word tee” is seen briefly as her soon-to-be baby daddy passes by and makes eyes at her; it was a moment that solidified Madonna as the “OG” of loud and proud Italian Americans (sorry Lady Caca). And so, how could Italians Do It Better not, at some point, pay homage to the woman who birthed it in a roundabout way? The woman who birthed so many musical successors, in fact. Even with her “subtle” influence on pop culture.
With the entire album produced by Jewel (yes, saying just his last name makes one want to put the disclaimer: not Kilcher), the cohesive sound Italians Do It Better has become known for materializes here as well, with the most divergent tracks from the overall sound being Farah’s “Gang Bang,” Love Object’s “Frozen,” Double Mixte’s “La Isla Bonita” and Jorja Chalmers’ “Justify My Love.” These are the songs that bear a far moodier interpretation of the Queen of Pop’s work, whereas the rest of the tracks reinforce the usual frothy sonic landscape that 80s electropop pioneered.
Being that the “Papa Don’t Preach” video inspired the label, it’s only right that it should be the single to kick off the record, with JOON giving the narrative a new dramatic flair, complete with her breathy vocals. Having released her memorable single, “E.T.” (move over Katy Perry), earlier last year, the video itself possesses certain “Borderline” video qualities—at least the initial rooftop element.
No Italians Do It Better showcase would be complete without Desire, given the task of covering 1984’s “Angel.” Lending it the same ethereal quality as JOON did to “Papa Don’t Preach,” one almost wishes this could be retrospectively included on the Drive Soundtrack.
Oddly, Sally Shapiro’s “Holiday” sounds like a remix to “Borderline” at the outset before delving into the simple, declarative lyrics that first launched M to the top of the charts in the early 80s. Similarly, Dlina Volny’s “Hollywood” provides opening instrumentation that reminds one of another Madonna song: “Over and Over.” But soon she’s wielding her alto voce to tell us of the dangerous seduction of the town where Madonna still sees fit to own a house in (or rather, near).
Something about MOTHERMARY’s (instead of just “something about Mary”) “Like A Virgin” conjures easy comparisons to what The Chromatics did with their cover of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” The backstory to this duo having escaped at separate times to New York in order to shirk their Mormon upbringing also smacks ever so slightly of Madonna’s story, except with Catholicism. This duo gets the special privilege of covering not one, but two tracks—the other being “Like A Prayer” (appropriate, considering their religious upheaval).
Managing to make “Lucky Star” even more 80s (yet in an entirely different way), Club Intl, John Eatherly and Madeline Follin bring plenty of earnest appeal to one of the first songs Madonna wrote on her own.
After the more accusatorily rendered “Frozen” comes Orion’s “Into the Groove.” One could call it a “lackadaisical” version, both sonically and vocally, as Orion urges you to get into the groove in a take it or leave it sort of way.
Following is Number One Popstar’s (a fitting name for a woman covering Madonna) “Hung Up.” Turning the song into something more melancholy, there is a greater aura of unrequited love to the lyrics—because one supposes Madonna is the queen of sounding too empowered to ultimately care about her heart being broken anyway. On a side note, fans of this song should also check out Number One Popstar’s “I Hate Running,” an attack on people like Masha in Nine Perfect Strangers.
Morose and languid, Double Mixte’s “La Isla Bonita” is now rendered in a fashion one could imagine being present in the soundtrack to a Jim Jarmusch or David Lynch movie, the tone of the record then shifting to the slightly more upbeat “Beautiful Stranger” by Juno Francis. 80s-ified in the best possible way, in Francis’ care the single transcends into a drug-addled homage to surrendering to a stranger’s arms on the dance floor.
There is perhaps no musician from the Italians Do It Better roster more suited to covering “Material Girl” than Glüme. With ironical lyrics made for someone who once sang, “It’s not so bad/It’s just a nervous breakdown,” Glüme lends her higher-pitched Nico-esque baby voice to a song that served as the anthem for a decade.
Standing out because it’s one of the “deep cuts” explored on the record, In Mirrors’ “I’m Addicted” provides a complement to that other viscerally covered track from MDNA, Farah’s “Gang Bang.” And the fact that these songs from the same album have come out as even more enraged-sounding speaks to just what an underrated breakup record MDNA truly is.
Causeway’s “Crazy For You” sustains the slow, earnest tone of the original, while adding a more psychedelic and dreamier timbre to the musical landscape and accompanying vocals. It’s almost as though Thompson Twins and New Order got together to birth this child.
Pink Gloves’ “What It Feels Like A Girl” actually makes the track sound like one of the demos Madonna might have put on You Can Dance (think: “Spotlight”)—with a touch of The Jesus and Mary Chain’s vocal effect for an indelible result. Especially since it’s a man singing some of the lyrics (but then, doesn’t a true feminist believe in the equal rights of both sexes, therefore, one supposes, the right to sing this song?).
In Lou Rebecca’s hands, “Burning Up” becomes a sweltering, stalker-y kind of number. Something that could be played to a scene of somebody writhing yearningly in front of a shrine to an object of unwitting “affection.” The mood of this is offset by the album’s finale, Bark Bark Disco’s “Borderline” (alluded to musically earlier in the record). Meekly requesting, “Stop playin’ with my heart/Finish what you start,” the almost-whispering vocals of Malta’s own Ian Schranz truly make it sound as though he’s reached his own borderline, with almost nothing left to give.
Luckily, however, this will be an album that keeps on giving no matter how far over the borderline you’ve gone. And whatever tribute album might invariably come when M’s sixty-fifth birthday rolls around, Italians Do It Better’s offering to the goddess is going to be extremely difficult to upstage.
