The last time Madonna came to the Coachella stage, she was squeezed into her tight purple leotard to perform a killer set in support of Confessions Of A Dance Floor. Last night, the Queen Of Pop made a return to the desert festival…as an #UnapologeticCoachellaKissingBitch.
You see, you can’t expect Degrassi-starlet-turned-emo-rapper Drake to perform an entire song written about Madonna called “Madonna” and then not expect the #Iconic diva herself to pop out on stage as a surprise token of her appreciation.
And oh, how she appreciated.
After bopping around the stage for about an hour, Drake sat down at a lonely one person bonfire in his bizarre fanciful forest stage set-up and sadly warbled his way through his If You’re Reading This, It’s Too Late mixtape track “Madonna,” an ode to the Queen Of Pop. And as the lights went down, the familiar sound of “Human Nature” came crawling in. And there she was, dragging a chair to the center of the stage while wearing a baseball hat that read “THREAT.” Foreshadowing!
All of a sudden, we were right back at the MDNA Tour.
After thrusting her thigh-high boot on the seat and performing a saucy chair dance, Madge disrobed…as Madge does. “It’s getting hot in here, let’s take off all my clothes!” she yelled to the confused crowd of flower crown-wearing hipsters, undoubtedly the most amazing, cringeworthy Mom-stop-you’re-embarrassing-me! moment.
As it turned out, she was wearing a “BIG AS MADONNA” tank underneath (which I desperately need to own — paging Guy Oseary!) while crooning “Hung Up” and going right back into “Human Nature.” It was probably the weirdest ‘hits medley’ she’s ever done live.
By that point, Drake was the one sitting on the chair. And that’s when shit got real.
You know that lap dance that Nicki Minaj did with Drake in the “Anaconda” video that got him feeling some type of way in his pants? Madonna sauntered over, and it seemed like she was about to recreate that scene…until she went for the kill instead, grabbing his skull and planting a fat one on his face for what felt like, roughly, three to seven hours. He even tried to pet her hair (or escape?), to which she batted his hand away and forced him to endure the make out sesh in all of its grill-faced glory.
As for that look of utter repulsion on Aubrey’s face afterward? That was either from internal bleeding suffered by direct grill-to-gums contact, or the immediate realization of what he’s just done: The Curse Of The Madge Kiss has brought times of great ruin to even the most legendary of pop stars, including Britney (The Year 2007) and Christina Aguilera (career). With this kiss, the ritualistic Illuminati sucking of the soul was now complete, and Drake’s discography would forever be made available solely as a TIDAL exclusive. Welcome to the M-Dolla Kiss Of Death Club, Drake!
Really though, Madonna’s Rebel Heart campaign has been one fabulous, non-stop assault of ridiculous publicity stunts, hashtags, Instagram nonsense, post-apocalyptic tangos and killer live performances. She’s utterly everywhere, whether you like it or not. And it’s pissing so many holier-than-thou hipsters, Coachella children, Twitter teens and ageist assholes off…and I’m loving it even more as a result.
Why? Because she’s just not stopping. Please don’t tell her to stop, seriously: She will only take it as a challenge.
Madonna goes hard or she goes home, and right now, she’s going harder than ever. It’s much. It’s too much. Way, way too much! And yet, there’s something perhaps a little brilliant about how shamelessly and consciously over-the-top it’s all become. At this point, it’s as though she’s purposely saying: “Oh, so I’m desperate? Fine. I’ll show you desperate.”
She’s effectively made every massive rapper in the business her bitch with this album, from dragging Nas to the Grammys as her date to having Chance The Rapper and Yeezus love her pussy best on Rebel Heart. These are the untouchable figures in pop culture, and Madonna is quite literally walking over, throwing their heads back and sticking her tongue right down their throat like a pop succubus. It’s terrifying! And incredible! And unprecedented.
Think she’s old and desperate? Good. Here’s to your idea of “aging gracefully,” motherfucker.
A photo posted by champagnepapi (@champagnepapi) on
