The year 1985, hmmm, let me see. I would have been 10-years-old. Being ‘like a virgin’ sounded musically just right. Did I know what it meant? Hell no.
Fast forward to 1991, Mum suggests I can’t see her movie as it’s ‘a bit raunchy’. I eventually get to the cinema and feel quite arty at the ripe old age of 16. I knew I was gay when Madonna started going down on the bottle and all I worried about was her chipping her teeth.
A year later and there is some serious Madge ‘my cans don’t like being in bras’ exposure in her tin book. I bought it and my uncle and Dad thought it was awesome (I think they thought I was straighter after that). Mum thought it was arty but trashy.
Was it an oversexed childhood with images and language of sex – yes. But was it fun and light hearted – you bet!
I’m going to sound really old and farty now, but her royal highness and a host of other “musicians” have had some right royal choices of song titles and themes in their ‘art’ that I have to intervene and explain to two 8-year-old boys. It’s not indirect sexual meaning, it’s direct and hardcore.
Where is the subversive words and innuendo – oh yeah that’s right, cue in Flo Rida’s Whistle. It’s creepy hearing the boys sing to it.
In the car the other day, the men were using the ipod to play music from the backseat. Stuck on a new Madonna song, I hear this:
‘Dad, what’s a Gang Bang?’
‘Err, a noise from a gun, going off…’ I weakly offer looking for help from Dawn who is looking at me sideways.
*uncomfortable silence in the car*
Crap. Damn you Madonna.