“People think that dance music is superficial,” says Madonna, in one of the many spoken-word interludes that guide the message of her 15th studio album. “But they’ve got it all wrong…” When it comes to setting the record straight there are few more qualified to do so than Madonna, a lifelong dancer whose symbiotic relationship with underground club culture pre-dates her 40-plus-year reign as the Queen of Pop. Co-produced alongside Stuart Price—the mastermind behind 2005’s Confessions on a Dance Floor, to which this album serves as a spiritual successor—and featuring contributions from hitmakers including Cirkut, Tainy, and frequent collaborator Mirwais, CONFESSIONS II carves out, according to that interlude, “a ritualistic space where movement replaces language.” Ever an advocate for the belief (to borrow a phrase) that music makes the people come together, CONFESSIONS II makes unity more of a priority for Madonna than ever before. “No one wants to go outside,” she sings on “Everything,” disrupting the pulse of shape-shifting beats with a confused shout: “It’s not OK/I don’t fuck with it!” And yet, outside is where the party’s at—as she makes clear on “Danceteria.” Over bright disco beats evocative of her 1982 debut “Everybody,” Madonna narrates the events of a night out at the titular NYC club where her journey to superstardom began. Outside is the place to be both seen (with Debi Mazar, with Basquiat, with Nile Rodgers) and simultaneously to be rendered invisible: liberated from your own personal hang-ups, just another body in the crowd. “That’s why I like to go dancing…” she confides on the airy, untethered lead single “I Feel So Free,” whispering the words “safety in numbers” like a secret incantation meant to be heard and understood by those most in need of its protection. It’s music as religion, choreography as communion, DJ made deity. And “it’s good for the soul,” as she reminds us, two tracks deep into the album’s continuous 64-minute mix. “To let down your hair and breathe in the air.” With her point more than proven, the back half of the record leaves room to explore everything else on Madonna’s mind. Anthemic Martin Garrix collaboration “Bizarre” centers on love and its absurdities; “Fragile” pays open-hearted tribute to her late brother Christopher Ciccone, and the well-documented turbulence of their relationship, while “The Test,” addressed to “Little Star”—aka Madonna’s eldest child Lourdes Leon, who also features on the track—finds mother and daughter healing emotional wounds over propulsive, Arca-assisted beats. As the album nears its end point, the pace slows but the dynamic elements of the production accelerate, opening up to more experimental sounds, a testament to Madonna’s relentless desire to push her own boundaries, even as she retreads familiar ground. As for the sky-high expectations set by its predecessor, it would be fair to say that capturing lightning in a bottle even once is a rare enough feat that twice would be nothing short of a miracle. If CONFESSIONS II doesn’t quite achieve the impossible, the fact that 21 years later, both Madonna and Price are still chasing the storm holds a power of its own.