A little less intense, this time, will be our discussion of the original pop goddess, Madonna. In all the talk about Madonna's image on celluloid, one can easily forget that all this media madness comes from the fact that Madge is about to release her 12th studio album, Hard Candy. The web is currently going crazy, as the release date draws near (this Saturday), and everyone scuttles to get their ears round the 12 new tracks, co-produced with the American dream team of the current "urban" soundscape: Timbaland, Timberlake, Danja and Pharell. I can't say I'm a fan of any of them. So, as you can imagine, as a Madge die-hard, I was a little nervous. In fact, I thought I might have to ignore this album, altogether. The single making world headlines (bumping her over Elvis' record in the States, and currently her 13th UK number one), 4 Minutes, does very little for me (I didn't bother playing it, during my listen). Call me anti-American - heck, call me someone over the age of 23 - but "urban" and Aaron Darc don't generally mix. So, imagine my surprise, then, when I finally sat down to hear the new Madonna album, and... well... it turned out to be rather fab.  

Music is, as far as I'm concerned, the most utterly subjective experience we can purchase in the commercial world. It runs deep within us, connected mostly to our adolescence, where the importance of music cannot be underestimated. When we are teenagers, music "understands" us, and so intoxicated do we become with the perceived empathy of those who seem to sing solely to us, no other entertainer or public figure is subject to as much obsession and devotion. When we're older, this tends to fade, of course. We become more objective, less obsessed, and less prone to the beauty of art and creation. We grow up, in other words. But, every now and then, we have a moment in time - a private moment of self-indulgence, vicariously facilitated by someone we don't even know - and through another's words and sounds, we rejoice in a part of ourselves. It doesn't happen very often for me, I must confess; but, many years ago, I found a record that "spoke to me", and I fell in a love that was decidedly more about myself than it was the woman responsible for this record. It was the critically acclaimed debut from British outfit, Goldfrapp, Felt Mountain. I am eternally grateful. However, years later, with their fourth studio album, Seventh Tree (released in February), the love affair is fading.