Alas, Madonna has not yet receded into the henna-stained, humorless musings threatened on the languid "Ray of Light." Instead, she's completely lost it one more time, for the psycho-bubble popping of club music's postmodern pastiche. Employing French hero Mirwais to guide most of the record's 10 tracks (Light producer William Orbit returns for three cuts), Madonna steps boldly into near sci-fi arrangements, virtually losing herself on a sugar high. "Music makes the bourgeoisie feel the rhythm," she howls on the title cut, and there's a real sense that she means it.
"Nobody's Perfect" loses its potential for balladic preciousness by pressing Madonna through the very vocoder that let Cher hold a note two years ago. And on "Impressive Instant," she finds perhaps her most absurd and oddly gratifying moment, burnt out into techno ether, moaning, "I like to singy, singy, singy/ Like a bird on a wingy, wingy, wingy." Who knew Madonna could be fun again?