If these nods to spirituality seem suspiciously chic, you haven't heard the other half of it. Working with British producer William Orbit, Madonna has dipped her latest collection of songs in a light batter of electronica. Throughout Ray of Light, the hissy, staccato pulsations of ambient techno and drum-and-bass flit in and around her like celestial seasonings. Computers burp and bray in the background, or imitate streaking asteroids or submerging submarines.
Strictly speaking, Ray of Light isn't 100 percent pure techno. After all, it features traditionally structured pop melodies, and the music reflects Orbits less-than-edgy background in ambient-based mood music. Only once, on the sirenlike techno-glitterball of the title track, does the album kick into beats-per-minute frenzy. Instead, what Madonna and Orbit have done is to use electronica components as sonic window dressing. Hard-step beats and synth washes make the romantic/physical yearnings of "Skin" and "Nothing Really Matters" even tauter; the juxtaposition of fuzzy beats and soundtrack-score strings lends "Drowned World/Substitute for Love" and "Frozen" a wuthering-beats melodrama that's often breathtaking. Throbbing yet meditative, Ray of Light is an adult's version of dance music, with the dark timbres of Madonna's 40-year voice its resolute center.
This music may not pull anyone onto the dance floor, but its sullen pensiveness is of a piece with the lyrics. Ray of Light affords us our closest peek yet into Madonna's psyche, and it's an oddly unhappy sight. For all the positive changes in her life--a baby, begrudging establishment respect courtesy of her Evita performance--Madonna presents herself as shrouded in self-doubt and uncertainty. "I traded fame for love / Without a second thought," she chastises herself in the opening line of "Drowned World," the first track on the album (no, Madonna hasn't lost her knack for instantly grabbing our attention). In that and subsequent songs, she contemplates her past and sings about one-night stands, drugs, careerism, lost romantic opportunities, and self-centeredness. What lies ahead are, among other things, "children killing children while the students rape their teachers." Escape becomes a recurring theme. On "Swim," she wants to flee to the bottom of the ocean; in "Mer Girl," a dour, almost melodic meander that closes the album, she flees her house and child and ends up being devoured by the earth near her mother's grave.
As is often the case with Madonna, it's hard to differentiate between theatrics and sincerity. Yet there's no defying that the cinematic undertow of Orbit's techno-lite tracks perfectly complements Madonna's frame of mind. It's telling that when the music turns harder, as in the metallic rock-techno of "Candy Perfume Girl," it feels cold and surly, like 1992's Erotica.
Comparisons to the equally club-inspired Erotica shouldn't end there. With time, it's become clear that the early 90's were Madonna's creative nadir: From Dick Tracy and "Justify My Love" through Erotica and Sex, every move reeked of heat-seeking desperation. By now, even Madonna must know it will never be 1986 again. For all her grapplings with self-enlightenment, Madonna seems more relaxed and less contrived than she's been in years, from her new Italian earth-mother makeover to, especially, her music. Ray of Light is truly like a prayer, and you know she'll take you there. A-