Madonna is the disco in her “I Feel So Free” visualizer (screencap by me)

I cried in disbelief listening to Madonna’s “I Feel So Free.” Not at first. When I initially sampled the rip of the old-school radio (yes, radio!) premiere of the first track from her upcoming album Confessions II, “I Feel So Free” came off to me as generic gay bar fare, perfect for a Hell’s Kitchen Pride party (not that I’m opposed to schlocky generic gay bar fare, but still…). My mistake was skipping a palette cleanser. Before clicking on the illicit link on X, I spent the morning immersed in the relentless G-forces of Nine Inch Nails and Boys Noize’s collaborative cacophonous death drive and industrial rebirth record, Nine Inch Noize, a self-shattering mix of Trent Reznor’s quintessentially nihilistic and grotesque imagery of parasites, dead gods, and viruses devouring their hosts and Alex Ridha’s tireless techno, which, like Slayyyter’s WOR$T GIRL IN AMERICA, recalls Azealia Banks’s YR II (Is the world finally ready for that revving piece of candy?). Nine Inch Noize is the perfect soundtrack for our contemporary accelerationism, sweating against other bodies in the dark while our time is tick, tick, ticking away. In comparison, Madonna’s “I Feel So Free” felt like an auditory regression.

Yet, by the next day, as a higher quality of Madge’s new song hit streaming, I finally got it. “I Feel So Free” is a celebration of the dance floor as a place for both individual and collective transcendence and a tribute to not only her own sonic achievements but those who came before and since. My eyes welled up. Our girl finally did it. After twenty-ish years of grimace-inducing stinkers, like the rotten eye-roller “Bitch, I’m Madonna,” and whatever eye-patch-sporting white savior typewritten mess Madame X was, Madonna released a song that not only wasn’t terrible, but was worthy of her rightful position as pop royalty. Before my involuntary teary reaction, I didn’t realize how much I yearned for a Madonna comeback that wasn’t more delirious, off-putting photos of her corseted ass sticking out from under her bed or sitting on the toilet posted on her Instagram. “I Feel So Free”‘s ticket into disco heaven was so welcome that it felt like a miracle. Goddamn it, I love Madonna.

Long before the song’s release, I already anticipated disappointment in Confessions II. The concept of rekindling the pilates-driven, ABBA-sampling disco stratosphere of her 2005 masterpiece Confessions on a Dance Floor felt like a guaranteed flop, even with the return of her original collaborator, Stuart Price. Sequels are rarely a good idea in general (Hello, Devil Wears Prada II). However, sequel albums are even riskier, since the stench of failure and sad attempts to recapture previous glories can rub off on the original. Take Nicki Minaj’s forgettable Pink Friday 2, released before her desperate has-been final form as a Turning Point guest, MAGA influencer, and decrepit Donald Trump hand-holder. I thank the mermaid goddesses that Azealia Banks has never made good on her frequent threats of a return to the deep with Fantasea II for the same reason.

Yikes

Madonna’s recently released promo visuals for Confessions II didn’t instill much confidence either, particularly the gigantic Sun O)))-sized stereo speakers wedged between her open thighs. The image recalls the try-hard imagery on her Instagram account, more than the transgressive sexual playground of her prior successful shock tactics. Even the album’s cover spelled doom, featuring Madonna draped in a veil and her ever-present corset. This combo reminded me of her recent bridal get-up in a terrible Dolce & Gabbana ad, which featured frequent, long, lingering shots of candles that look like the ones I buy from Target. Now, after her Coachella return, I understand the purple get-up on Confessions II’s cover is meant to reference her 2006 Coachella outfit, but who, other than fixated Madonna completists, remembers that exact look?! This is all to say, my expectations weren’t just on the floor, they were six feet under.

Luckily, “I Feel So Free” is such a mesmerizing, mirror ball-whirling headrush, five minutes of escapist ecstasy, that it could raise the dead, including my long-deceased hopes of a good Madonna record. Not that the track opens mid-orbit. “I Feel So Free” starts with a polite introduction in a thrumming pre-party lounge purgatory. With seductively husky spoken vocals recalling “Justify My Love,” Madge describes the unique fear and alienation of celebrity–that being the most famous person in any room means continual surveillance. At times, she echoes the sampled sentiments from Carnival of Souls that introduce Lana Del Rey’s “13 Beaches,” referencing their dual separation from other people. Yet, instead of Lana fucking off to a remote beach to find solitude and solace, Madonna finds release on the dance floor where she can “develop a new persona, a different identity” to “be whoever I want to be.” Then, a masculine voice interrupts this confessional, a blast from the past. House hero Lil Louis not only enquires about her evening so far, a sample from his classic “French Kiss,” but also offers a return to the beginning (“Oh, by the way, it all started like this”).

Lil Louis’s “It all started like this” could be a simple reference to the start of the song—or the album, considering “I Feel So Free” is the introductory track. But I hear something different. Ms. Ciccone is giving us a disco history lesson, harkening back to her dance forebears as much as her own back catalogue, particularly “Future Lovers” from the first Confessions. As soon as she brushes off Lil Louis’s question about her evening with a short, “Don’t be a vibe kill,” the song corkscrews into an unmoored swirling disco whirlpool. Within this twirling morass, sonic references to hi-NRG icons float by, like the intergalactic pew-pew, menergy whirrs, and UFO landing descents of megatron man Patrick Cowley. Though I’m reminded of Cowley, Madge and Price give a more direct nod to synth legend Giorgio Moroder with their sample of Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love” churned into the mix at the exact moment when “I Feel So Free” hits its enraptured peak. Like Donna, Madonna’s voice serves as the grounding center of this hypnotic dance tornado, guiding us through the twister and beckoning us to meet her on the dance floor. I’m coming, Madge!

“I Feel So Free,” like so many disintegrating disco classics before it, eschews any traditional semblance of song structure. Instead, Madge ricochets between rapturously exclaiming “I feel so free,” and a diaristic near-whispered description of being unable to trust anyone as a celebrity, but discovering momentary safety among the hordes on the dance floor. The latter doesn’t feel like a fictional account of a club hopper either. I sense Madonna is truly baring her soul, which explains some of her wackier boogieing Auntie Madge posts on social media. Yet, it’s not just about Madonna finding personal release. “I Feel So Free” marks a return to one of Madonna’s greatest strengths: her ability to channel the experiences of her ever-faithful queer fanbase. The track is as much about the danger queer people face as individuals in a still-phobic world and the safety on the dance floor as it is about Madonna’s temporary relief from fame. This is a large part of the reason I got so soppy: “I Feel So Free” is a modern manifesto on the continued communal power of nightlife (and mercifully not just a nostalgic boomer-fest about its bygone heyday either). This is a point I’ve repeatedly tried to make on this website and elsewhere, and I’ll admit, Madonna may have better articulated it within a 5-minute song.

And it couldn’t have come at a better time. Sure, we’re all yearning for momentary bliss in a world run by tech billionaires who want to replace human life. But even more, “I Feel So Free” drops in the middle of what seems to be a dance renaissance, from Slayyyter’s hangxious indie sleaze to Madonna’s cat mask-wearing hype woman Addison Rae’s breathy bubblegum pop to Rochelle Jordan’s throwback house (I’ll admit I didn’t know of Rochelle (I’m old) until reading that Price showed Madonna her music in conceiving of Confessions II and now, I’m completely obsessed) to Nine Inch Noize’s underworld grind. Nobody, though, is pioneering this clubbing rebirth quite like FKA twigs with her two (going on three) albums Eusexua and Eusexua Afterglow, both of which take inspiration from Ray of Light-era Madonna. I attended twigs’s awe-inspiring,sword-swinging, pole-dangling, David Cronenberg-like fleshy-pile-of-bodies-riding, operatic-pop-electro-ballroom, experimental tour de force concert last month at Madison Square Garden, which not only struck me as possibly the best concert I’ve ever attended but comparable to watching Madonna at the height of her powers (though “I Feel So Free” indicates we may see her reclaim that power yet). It’s about time that Madonna joined the party, the one that she may not have started, but certainly kept in the groove.

I only wish she’d release a 17-minute-long version.