Albums: True Blue (1986), The Immaculate Collection (1990), Celebration (2009)
Songwriters: Brian Elliot, additional lyrics by Madonna
Producers: Madonna/Stephen Bray

Just who exactly is Brian Elliot? No biographical information seems to exist, and his work - a 70s AOR album, Papa Don’t Preach and a ’90s Chris Isaak cowrite, no more - doesn’t even merit his own Wikipedia page. But perhaps conserving all his talent for one single, glorious moment was the right way to go - few #1 singles simultaneously defy and define the possibilities of pop, culturally or musically, as wildly as Papa Don’t Preach. The staccato classical string intro puts the song immediately on edge, and indeed the listener too - it takes a full 16 seconds before anything even resembles pop music. Even then, the instrumentation isn’t exactly convention - the subtle layers of synth calm whilst the constantly shifting bassline, drums and bursts of strings tense. It’s an oddly unabrasive combination that never detracts from the sheer pop catchiness of the hooks, which in turn never undermines the unstoppable force of the song’s cathartic emotions.

And yes, from the minor key to the fixation on unwanted pregnancy, Papa Don’t Preach does share almost all of the above qualities with one Billie Jean - but far from being a ripoff, or even a response, you could never mistake one for the other. More importantly, the emotional core that drives each song is fundamentally different. In real life, Michael Jackson never fathered a fan’s child, just as Madonna never had a child in her teens, but listening to the image of himself he portrays in the song, you can never quite tell. He sounds paranoid and unsettled, in what is a brilliant, but never totally sympathetic vocal - the listener can’t quite sympathise with either Jackson or Billie Jean. Perhaps as a result (possibly of my overinterpretation), Billie Jean’s ambiguity towards its subject matter comes through in its funkier approach, as if Michael wants to divert your attention with pop music, whereas Papa Don’t Preach cuts a little deeper.

Emotionally, Madonna delivers what is simply one of the finest vocal performances ever put to record. Whether in the subdued verses or the soaring choruses, her voice carries a raw quality, as if the mental act of endlessly rehearsing such a dialogue with her father has physically worn her down. Where Billie Jean’s denial is either justified or exploitation, Papa Don’t Preach is an admission of mistakes, and an undeniable acceptance of responsibility. Brian Elliot’s lyrics and Madonna’s delivery - pleading, but typically determined instead of self-pitying - make her character an entirely sympathetic figure to parents and teenagers alike.

Sympathetic - that is, unless you have your own agendas to push. Hardly the first time a self-aware Madonna adopted the “all publicity is good publicity” approach to misinterpretation - but it was likely the first time she was treated as a serious sociocultural force. Various groups were willing to overlook key points to hijack the message for themselves; some saying it encouraged teenage pregnancy despite obvious sentiments of regret, others calling it pro-life despite the most important fact being that Madonna’s character makes a considered personal choice - not life instead of abortion, but a provided-for child instead of an unloved one, or longing for a child who never was. Tellingly, the once-critical Tipper Gore of the PMRC made by far the most sensible commentary:

The music video is arguably Madonna’s most literal interpretation of any of her songs - and it hits hard. Where Live to Tell’s makeover was soft, Papa Don’t Preach has Madonna portraying two strikingly different images. The contrast between her past and present; normality (the city scenes during the intro) and Madonna’s situation is immediately jarring as she walks into the scene, the world’s most unsettlingly convincing teenage girl. Though her acting ability is, well, selective (she never looked 15 at the start of Evita - granted, she was 38 by then), her best efforts are absolutely undeniable, and never more so than here. Where the song is the aftermath, the video provides backstory and an even more absurdly sympathetic character - are they irresponsible, drunk teenagers having unsafe sex? No - like the elderly Italian couple on the boat, they’re genuinely in love. And when she finally breaks the news during the last minute, just watch her eyes alone - you don’t doubt her sincerity for even a second.

Somehow, appearing as her real-life self, lipsyncing sections and alternating between sharp, angular dancing and softer movements, she manages to make a huge impression with her newly toned, skinny body and classicist hairstyle without detracting from the story at all. As she sings the choruses and wraps her arms around herself, she essentially exudes empathy towards her own character - meta enough for you?

Perhaps the single most impressive thing is that not once whilst listening to the song, watching the video or reading this review did the potential absurdity of a 28-year-old Madonna, who’d by then had at least one abortion (yes, it is a biographical fact) singing from the perspective of a pregnant 18-year-old ever cross your mind. So you were fooled? That’s a ridiculous suggestion - no, you’ve just experienced utterly infinite empathy in mere “popular music”, and that’s why even you’re undoubtedly keeping your baby.