That’s why I like to go dancing: safety in numbers. Madonna is one of the most watched women alive, and she just released a whole album about finding somewhere to be a drop in the ocean. How does one begin Drawing the Curtains when her window’s curtain rod was ripped out? The answer is Confessions II: a dance-pop opera of a night out to put on a different identity. A lesson in letting go; a refusal of shame and seeing what emerges inside of you the longer you stay.
The desire to disappear into a persona unlike the one fit for public consumption. To engage with a more primal version of ourselves is not escapism, but an unfiltered celebration of a part of your identity that’s not always on display. That, paired with an appetite to be on whatever the proverbial dance floor you choose with the individuals after the same feeling. This what creates safety in numbers. The vision of getting lost in the crowd Madonna is talking about in the opening track “I Feel So Free” is about unifying with the group around you. Joined together to dance. It’s taking all of who you are, leaving it all on the dance floor and allowing yourself to be one with the crowd. It’s an ancient ritual that teaches the body to talk.
When you are in that crowd, you aren’t under the same pressures you are in your normal life. The micromanaging boss, the complexities of romantic relationships, family conflict that spans decades, money issues that seem to reanimate once resolved. We’ve all experienced some, if not all of them. All opportunities for reputation suicide if the wrong version of you shows up in the wrong environment. Pressure needs release, we need to blow off some steam. That’s what the anonymity of the crowd creates for us. We need to feed that version of ourselves that likes to show up when the curtains are closed. Somewhere we can get lost in the dark.
The dance floor is a common place where all those alternative personas can live. The track Danceteria is where that comes alive. Where she was just part of the scene; the ecosystem that can only function when we strip away that “G-rated” version of us. A habitat where the outside world’s rules or social cues aren’t relevant. Just the population you can count on. The doorman who might not know your name but knows your face. The DJ taking a chance on a new song. The friends that seem to only materialize in this space. The line for the snug bathroom, the conversations in various corners the light can’t touch and a guy named Fred. A place where Madonna can be nobody, just one among many in a single moment. A shared sanctuary where your problems don’t need to be communicated for a bit. Safety in numbers is about communion, not escapism.
Ritual movement replaces language as a medium of speech. Emotions can be expressed through muscles and contortions of the body. The dance floor, whatever that looks like for you, suspends whatever was going on before you paid your cover and crossed the threshold. That version of yourself gets hung up at coat check, waiting for you to carry it better when you’re ready to leave. Madonna is doing it with her tribe from start to finish on Confessions II. Community is a medicine we often overlook. The coat check is The Permission Slip we need to access it.
Whether you have found your “dance floor” already or are still seeking, there’s a piece of you that craves it. To be one among many has a complicated form of gratitude to it. The Queen of Pop longs for something most of us can experience at any given time. For us, it’s just one step away.