We didn’t get a chance to see Madonna‘s show last night at the Roseland, but our pal Matt Bell did – and he offers a mixed review, after the jump…
What do a 50 year old woman, a telephone company and a 35 minute show at the Roseland have that could cause gays from New York to California to pull every connection they have out of their rear ends, just so they can attend? When that 50 year old lady is Madonna, who cares about the rest?
Indeed, Madge, the supreme vagina, graced approximately 2000 adoring fans and well-connected friends of industry-types with her presence at the Roseland Ballroom last night. Simultaneously, Verizon customers the world over got to catch a glimpse of the pop-god from the screens on their V-cast phones. Suffice it to say, even if you don’t really like the big Madge, the combination of her highness, Verizon and the amazing venue of the Roseland Ballroom turned this into a media maelstrom of epic proportions. And who am I to ignore a spectacle?
So let’s get to it. If you didn’t get to see the hordes of Madonna-freaks (we really need a name for themâ€¦Fandonnas? Madgies? M’freaks? Gays?) waiting in lines that stretched from the Ballroom on 52nd street around to Broadway – check out Drowned Madonna. It was the usual suspects – tragic trannies, touristy gays, hyper young ladies, fat girls with too much make up and a sprinkling of lesbians.
Word has it that Madonna herself gave the line a glimpse of her forearm when she waved to them from her cushy limo sometime Tuesday morning. She’s so nice.
Unfortunately only 750 in that queue got in. The majority of the crowd was either press or a friend of a friend of a friend of someone working for Warner, Verizon or The Ballroom itself. Though wholly undemocratic, this nepotism did help keep the Madge-fire at less stalker-obsessive level.
Ms. Madge seemed to be in a a good mood and sincerely touched by the crowd, but it’s hard to be sure considering her face has been tucked and pulled back within an inch of its life. But I digress…
Here’s what you need to know: the excitement before the show was palpable with the DJ playing every song he could muster with the word “Candy” in it; Madge was totally on point for most of the show, although she forgot some of the words to Hung Up, but she may have been thrown off as she was playing it on the guitar. (That’s a lot of multitasking for a senior citizen.) She still screamed “FUCK” as she does at every show (I’ve been to all of them since Girlie Show); she put her vagina on Justin Timberlake in a creepy Harold and Maude moment, Justin got a louder applause than Madonna; her guitar skills have advanced to allow her to strum the Rolling Stone’s “Satisfaction;” and finally, it was a fucking awesome show. Say what you will about Madonna, but she’s a born entertainer.
While I loved the experience, I can’t help but wonder if a 50-year-old woman should still be considered a “pop star?” Can we really stomach listing to someone our mother’s age telling us her candy is hot? At what point do we, those who love and respect Madonna, force her to stop?