Material Girl stumbles over her own words

Twenty years ago, America was graced with the presence of an iconoclastic, yet seemingly heaven-sent musician. Her very name was a paradox in itself, a woman whose nationally televised, rosary-clad homage to virginity would go on to stir the religious community into an uproar, while at the same time revving male libidos everywhere. On a pedestal of materialism and sex, Madonna lay the foundation for her inevitable status as an American icon.\nAmerican Life could destroy the very pedestal that the artist has so depended on throughout her decade-spanning career. Not known for her ability to blend in with a crowd, hiding from the judgmental eyes of the public, Madonna once again makes her mark, this time choosing anti-war rhetoric as her platform. Madonna self-censored herself, deciding to halt the release of a controversial music video for her first single, "American Life." (The edited-for-American-audiences version is now in rotation on both MTV and VH1).\nHer 1998 album, Ray of Light broke new ground for the artist, marking a change from her traditionally sexually-infused pop fare present in previous works Erotica and Bedtime Stories, opting to instead take a spiritual journey with the help of techno-prince, William Orbit. This album paralleled Madonna's own spiritual transformation and newfound interest in yoga and Indian culture.\nIf Ray of Light was Madonna's spiritual center, then 2000s Music was Maddy's party, enlisting the talents of French Eurotechno-king, Mirwais Ahmadzai, along with Orbit. The albums highlights, including "Music," and "Don't Tell Me" were produced by Mirwais, and so set the stage for a collaborative relationship.\nAmerican Life truly highlights the producing chops of Mirwais over anything else. His hypnotic techno grooves here are at worst less enticing than on Music, but they still move the pace along, complementing the vocals nicely. \nWhile the album masquerades itself as a sort of deep-seeded political and social commentary, the lyrical content hinders this severely, often preventing a listener from taking the message seriously.\nMusical styles are clashing all over the place here. One minute, she's hard-edged wannabe-rocker, then without warning or reason, she starts "rapping." While rap collaborations work for artists like J-Lo and even Christina Aguilera, hell hath no fury like bad rap. "I drive my Mini Cooper/And I'm feeling super-duper/Yo, they tell me I'm a trooper/And you know I'm satisfied," she raps, at the end of the title track. In "Mother & Father," a sentimental reflection of her childhood strife, Madonna juxtaposes the listeners emotions with a jump rope-friendly, nursery school rhyme, speaking in a sharply edited, techno monotone. "My mother died when I was five/And all I did was sit and cry/I cried and cried and cried all day/ Until the neighbors went away." \nIn the acoustic-guitar-ridden "Nothing Fails," midway through one verse of the chorus, insert the muffled background vocals of a misplaced church choir that sounds like they weren't in the same room as Madonna during the track's recording. Madonna even manages to get this mix of styles to work, but the lyrical content has to be there, and in American Life it just isn't. The brazen silliness of some of the lyrics squelch any hint of meaning that was in a song.\nThe album isn't all bad. Note the beautiful harmonies that the material girl makes in the lullaby, "X-Static Process," and the oozing ambient sounds of "Love Profusion." The fact remains, that if you are looking for powerhouse vocals that'll knock your socks off, Madonna can't deliver. Although she attempts to speak out against materialism and Hollywood, she contradicts her own message with the very inclusion of the lackluster Bond song, "Die Another Day," a blatant and unnecessary marketing strategy. Regardless of the success of American Life, Madonna is already a pop-culture icon.