Erotica is perhaps the pentultimate fall album for me. And that’s saying a lot as there are a lot of them (as you’ll all be exposed to in the coming weeks.) I cannot talk about fall music without mentioning Erotica. It is the unlikely sister album to Simply Streisand. Both evoke such strong memories of my first year of pharmacy school that it is simply impossible to listen to either of them without thinking about that time.
I did a quick search of the blog to see which of the stories of Erotica I have told. I have told most of them. I’ve told of my disilluionment with Madonna around the time of Erotica, how I did not purchase it on the first day of release, how I didn’t really like “Erotica” the song, but eventually, I relented and purchased it on the Friday after its release. It is, quite simply, Madonna at her best. It was always my favorite Madonna record – nothing ever came close until Confessions on a Dance Floor was released. But even having said that, I love Confessions for entirely different reasons. While Confessions was a calculated move aimed at the dance floor, Erotica was Madonna being a mess and self indulgent and being fucking amazing at it.