FEATURE: You Always Taught Me Right from Wrong: Madonna's Papa Don't Preach at Thirty-Five

FEATURE:

 

 

You Always Taught Me Right from Wrong

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Madonna's Papa Don't Preach at Thirty-Five

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I have already published a feature

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regarding Madonna’s True Blue. Her third album turns thirty-five on 30th June. Its second single, Papa Don’t Preach, is thirty-five on 11th June. It is a song that, to me, is a highlights from the album. Although some are not convinced by the lyrics and feel it is one of Madonna’s less-awesome singles, I think it is one of her very best songs. Her previous album, 1984’s Like a Virgin, is a terrific release. I think True Blue was the album Madonna matured and expanded her vocal and lyrical horizons. It would be an album or two before Madonna’s voice really hit its stride and she grew as a songwriter. Papa Don’t Preach is a Madonna railing against The Pope, the Catholic Church or her father and his conservative, patriarchal ways. It is not clear exactly what the inspiration is behind the song - these are theories that and possible inspiration she has listed. Written by Brian Elliot and Madonna, I think the majority of the lyrics were written by Elliot. Madonna definitely added lyrics and put some of her personal experience into the song. There are a couple of features about the song that I want to bring in. Before then, here is some background regarding Papa Don’t Preach:

Papa Don't Preach" is a song by American singer Madonna from her third studio album True Blue (1986). It was written by Brian Elliot with additional lyrics by Madonna, who produced it with Stephen Bray. The song's musical style combines pop and classical styling, and its lyrics deal with teenage pregnancy and the choices that come with it. It was based on teen gossip Elliot heard outside his recording studio. The song later appeared remixed on the compilation album The Immaculate Collection (1990), and in its original form on the compilation album Celebration (2009).

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Released as the second single from True Blue on June 11, 1986, by Sire Records, the song was a commercial and critical success. It became Madonna's fourth number-one single on the US Billboard Hot 100 and performed well internationally, reaching the top position in Australia and the United Kingdom. The song received positive reviews from music critics, who frequently referred to it as a highlight from True Blue. The music video, directed by James Foley and shot in New York City, shows Madonna's second image makeover, featuring her with a more toned and muscular body, and cropped platinum blonde hair. It portrayed a storyline where Madonna is trying to tell her father about her pregnancy. The images are juxtaposed with shots of Madonna dancing and singing in a small, darkened studio and spending a romantic evening with her boyfriend”.

Whereas there are standout classics from Madonna’s catalogue, songs like Papa Don’t Preach are a little more divisive. I think it is a hugely important track that showcased a new side and sound to her music. True Blue is an album with so many moods and sounds. Live to Tell, Open Your Heart and La Isla Bonita are all great singles that are very different to one another. Papa Don’t Preach definitely signalled a Pop superstar who was growing in confidence and ambition.

The first article that I want to source is from PBS. Despite Madonna not being hugely involved with the songwriting and production, I think her delivery really sells the song. Papa Don’t Preach is more nuanced and layered than her performances on earlier singles:

Lost in the critical firestorm were the song’s technical triumphs. Her fourteenth single, “Papa Don’t Preach” represented Madonna’s increasing sophistication in the studio. The shrinking minority of detractors still won’t give her props as a musician — partly because she's a woman, but mostly because she worked with many unknowns whose talents she coaxed out. Co-producer Stephen Bray should have university student union buildings named after him for writing the music for “Into the Groove"; on "Papa Don't Preach," he brought those dance chops to a mid-tempo number, giving it pulse and sinew. The song begins with a string section, which accentuates the coming melodrama (all that's missing is an old school soap opera organ). Then comes the thud of Bray’s drum machines, darkening the track. A happy arrangement complements a rueful lyric — an old trick.

But the true marvel is Madonna herself. The expression of will, nourished by her symbiotic attachment to her fans, is the Madonna signature. This will exerts itself on "Papa Don't Preach." She’s crushed by the thought that she’ll disappoint Papa, yet willing to live with the consequences of a shrunken life. To project anguish and determination might exhaust a singer with subtler pipes; I suspect only an instinctive vocalist like Madonna — willing to try anything — could sell it. Pushing against her voice's natural grain when she gets to the pre-chorus, Madonna mirrors the stubbornness of the song’s character. Without her commitment, the lyrics just look unintentionally hilarious ("We're in an awful mess/And I don’t mean maybe"). The song’s most poignant moment — what caused Allred such consternation — is the key change in the chorus, when her voice crests over “And I’ve made up my mind” before coming down on “I’m keeping my baby.” Climax followed by resolution. Although Madonna got an “additional lyrics by” credit, I prefer to think she deserved it for “additional musical ideas by”.

I love Papa Don’t Preach, though I feel the introduction is one of its strongest points. It is so elegant, rousing and sophisticated. Stereogum dived deep into Papa Don’t Preach last year:

Those strings on the intro are an announcement, an almighty flex. Madonna’s True Blue was her third album, but it was the first one she made when she was already a massive star, a foundational pop-music figure. Up until then, Madonna had been associated with a particular sound. Madonna made club music, post-disco dance-pop. Even her ballads nodded to that sound. So it must’ve been at least a little jarring for people to hear the fussy, rococo strings that open “Papa Don’t Preach” — or, for that matter, to hear those strings fade into a story-song about a pregnant teenager desperate for her father’s approval. The strings nod to classical, to baroque, and to the Beatles-style psychedelia that had made a big deal about incorporating strings like those a couple of decades earlier. Madonna was doing what she felt like doing, and the things she felt like doing were working.

“Papa Don’t Preach” wasn’t the first single from True Blue; that was “Live To Tell,” Madonna’s previous chart-topper. But “Live To Tell” was a movie-soundtrack ballad, and it came out months before the album. Masterful as it is, “Live To Tell” didn’t announce a great leap forward the way “Papa Don’t Preach” did. “Papa Don’t Preach” signaled that Madonna had enough juice to make a social-issue song that was also a stylistic left-turn. And for all its gutsiness, “Papa Don’t Preach” still worked as post-disco dance-pop. Its strings faded into jittery, propulsive synth-bass and big, mechanized drums, and this story about a girl begging her father to accept her big life decision somehow became escapist club fare. That’s a magic trick. That’s cowboy shit.

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Madonna is credited as the co-writer of “Papa Don’t Preach,” but her contribution is apparently limited to a few added-on lyrics. And yet “Papa Don’t Preach” means more coming from Madonna than it would’ve meant from an artist who wasn’t yet established. Part of it is the production. Madonna co-produced “Papa Don’t Preach” with her old friend and collaborator Stephen Bray, who she’d known since before dropping out of college. (Around the same time as he was working on True Blue, Bray joined a reconstituted version of the Breakfast Club, the band that Madonna had been in before she got famous, and they peaked at #7 with 1987’s “Right On Track.” It’s a 7.) But part of it is also the way “Papa Don’t Preach” plays into the persona that Madonna had already established.

Naturally, “Papa Don’t Preach” became a political football. Anti-abortion groups claimed “Papa Don’t Preach” as an anti-abortion song. Tipper Gore, co-founder of the PMRC and pop-music boogeywoman, loved “Papa Don’t Preach,” calling it “an important song, and a good one, which discusses, with urgency, a real predicament which thousands of unwed teenagers face in our country.” The feminist lawyer Gloria Allred, meanwhile, said that Madonna should “make a public statement noting that kids have other choices, including abortion.”

For all the pathos of its story, though, “Papa Don’t Preach” still works as pop music. The beat is steady, but all the song’s flourishes — the strings, the quasi-Spanish guitar solo, the coos of the backup singers — float around that narrator, as if they’re consoling or encouraging her. (One of the backup singers, Siedah Garrett, will appear as a featured guest in a future column.) “Papa Don’t Preach” has hooks, too. It’s dainty and insistent and urgent, and it glues itself right into your brain the first time you hear it. If “Papa Don’t Preach” had been simply a message song, it would’ve aged like fine milk. But it’s not a message song. “Don’t Preach” is right there in the title. Instead, the song is a marvel of craft.

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PHOTO CREDIT: Herb Ritts 

The video is pretty expertly crafted, too. Madonna made the “Papa Don’t Preach” video with director James Foley, the filmmaker who’d just directed her then-husband Sean Penn in At Close Range. Foley had directed Madonna’s “Live To Tell” video, but that one is really just Madonna close-ups and At Close Range clips. The “Papa Don’t Preach” video, on the other hand, is a whole mini-movie. Madonna tries out a couple of different styles — the hyper-styled dancer of the performance clips and the tough tomboy of the narrative scenes. But the video is way more of a showcase for Madonna’s acting than for her ever-evolving persona”.

Ahead of its thirty-fifth anniversary on Friday, I wanted to highlight one of Madonna’s greatest singles. I feel the True Blue album is underrated and does not get spoken about in the same way as Like a Prayer (1989) or Ray of Light (1998). Songs like Papa Don’t Preach are signals and signs of Madonna entering new sonic and lyrical territories. I hope that the song gets a lot of airplay on its anniversary. Later this month, True Blue turns thirty-five. Its second single is…

AMONG the very best Madonna tracks.