The problem with sites like YouTube is that every notable bit of pop culture from the advent of talkies onward is available somewhere online. Not being renowned for my self-control, I often end up digging around in places I shouldn't, like a Victorian-era archaeologist dismissively ignoring the warnings on a cursed tomb.
The latest cultural mummy to strike my consciousness is "La Isla Bonita," a Madonna song that clogged the airwaves in the late '80s. The lyrics confounded me when I first heard them, but I always attributed that to the poor quality of my friends' stereo systems. Surely the lyrics couldn't be as bad as they sounded, I thought.
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Well, thanks to YouTube and various lyric sites, I've finally been able to resolve this mystery: The lyrics really are as bizarre as they seemed. They appear to have been written down, chopped into bits, thrown in the air, then pasted back together in random order like the middle eight of "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite," but to much lesser effect.
Here are some of the worst offenders:
This is almost poetic. But it kind of veers away and becomes an ad for Visine instead. I'm not sure which version of "like the desert" she means. Full of sand? Kind of taupe-ish? I'm going to go with "lacking in plant life."
There are very few places where the sun cools the sky. Even in subzero climates, the landscape is slightly more survivable during the day. Maybe she wants to rule out places where the sun doesn't rise at all for months at a time. So she wants to be somewhere other than the Arctic or Antarctic. And not underground. That ... doesn't really narrow it down.
This is just a sad excuse to put a Spanish word in the lyrics. Siesta is when you take a nap. If it's really time for siesta, you're sleeping, not watching them go by. Indeed, they're not going by at all, because it's time for siesta. So really, this lyric should be, "If it's time for siesta, but you don't want to actually take a siesta, you can watch them go by, assuming they're of a similar mindset concerning siestas." Or just substitute "fiesta."
I like the little moment of tension before the end here. A boy what? Breeds aardvarks? Writes essays exploring Manichaean dualism? Dances with other boys while listening to Madonna? Oh, loves a girl! So she's limiting herself to places where heterosexuality isn't outlawed. Also above ground and between the North and South Poles. She's pretty easygoing when you think about it.
I believe the third level of hell is filled with evil English teachers forced to diagram this sentence for all eternity. I think what she's saying is, "When your Spanish lullaby – which was also a samba for some reason – played, the sun would set so high that it stung my eyes while the aforementioned lullaby/samba rang through my ears." I'm still not sure how the sun would set so high. I guess it would just stay above the horizon. So we're back above the Arctic circle. Make up your mind, Madonna!
The climatology is unexpectedly sound here, but the translation is iffy. As far as I can make out, it literally means, "He called to me, 'He told you I love you.'" So some guy is calling out to Madonna that some other guy told Madonna that he, the first guy, the guy who's talking to Madonna right now, loves Madonna. Apparently conversation in San Pedro is very roundabout. I guess that's why they don't call it "La Isla de Comunicación Clara."
Born helpless, nude and unable to provide for himself, Lore Sjöberg eventually overcame these handicaps to become a torch singer, a torchbearer and a Peruvian torch cactus.
