Whatever his personal orientation, Martin attracts queer and straight fans alike. At the Hollywood, California, Gold's Gym, gay men pack the aerobics floor for the "Latin Groove" class, which for an entire month features choreography to "Livin' La Vida Loca." Embellishing the moves taught by the instructor with gestures scrupulously copied from Ricky Martin's video, the men give a kind of butch camp performance, blowing away their own brains with their index fingers as they interpret the lyrics "like a bullet through your brain."
Insistence on getting at the truth of Martin's sexuality might ultimately be as pointless as the exercise of classifying his music. As an eighteen-year-old Nuyorican girl once declared: "I don't care if he is gay; I think he's hot anyway."
Martin's good looks alone do not explain his omnisexual appeal. His music, so carefully selected and produced, first for Sony Discos and now for Sony Music, targets the widest possible demographics whether determined by gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity, or age. Rather than expressing the artist's inner feelings, Martin's music epitomizes the contemporary industry by serving as both the vehicle and the primary product of a closely monitored marketing campaign.
The 1999 Ricky Martin appears to be an exercise in music as market test. In marketing there are never any failures because all outcomes yield information. The wildly eclectic genres and vocal styles on the primarily English-language CD sound simultaneously like a bid for all audiences and an attempt to see what works and what doesn't. Released just over a year ago, Ricky Martin continues to yield hit singles, with "Shake Your Bon-Bon" still hovering at 54 on the Billboard charts.
"Shake Your Bon-Bon," much like the second track, "Spanish Eyes," harkens back to Hollywood's south of the border musicals that mixed and matched aspects of distinct cultures with complete disregard for national differences across the hemisphere. In one famous example, Too Many Girls, the Cuban-born Desi Arnaz played an Argentine who played a Cuban instrument, the congas, and U.S. sport, football. In "Bon-Bon" Martin is a presumably Mexican desperado beneath the window of a lover he proposes to take "around the world in a day." In "Spanish Eyes" things get even more confusing, as the singer meets a woman at Carnival in Brazil, with whom he dances the Argentine tango, but knows only by the name "Spanish Eyes" -- and all in the opening stanza!
If signs of Latin-American national identity crisis in the lyrics seem bizarre, the mixing of musical styles is even more extreme. There is the Bryan Adams-inflected hit single with Indian instrumentation, "She's All I Ever Had" (also included in a Spanish-language version, the producers say "so as not to alienate core fans"). There's the heavy metal ballad, "I Am Made of You." Hits from previous albums, "María" and "Cup of Life," are both included here in Spanglish trip-hop versions. The much-touted gender-bending duet with Madonna, "Be Careful (Cuidado con Mi Corazón)" has the delightful characteristic of giving Martin the high part, in falsetto, and sending Madonna into the lower range she cultivated in her vocal training for Evita.
The silence that has finally fallen after the incessant airplay of Ricky Martin's monster hit "Livin' La Vida Loca" shows that single to be a work of diabolical marketing genius. Written by dynamic Miami duo Desmond Child and Robi Rosa, the song draws more from Mexican than Caribbean influences, with the skateboard-tapatio-ska of Maldita Vecindad underpinning the whole groove. The Chicano punk dovetails with rockabilly swing, tapping the fleeting big-band craze. The minimal Caribbean influences, referenced by the trumpet at the close, are reinforced by the choreography in the video that emphasizes Ricky's hips, visually making a connection with the island.
The title refers to the Chicano gang life that often accompanies the track's sonic base; however, "loca" in isolation also means gay man. In one swoop the title encompasses the most macho of Chicano subcultures while flirting with queer Latin life. All this the moniker for a lament over the behavior of a female lover whose craziness seems confined to a taste for French champagne and dancing naked in the rain. You pick the story.
"Livin' La Vida Loca" ties together disparate lyrical and musical strands so as to appeal to the greatest number of listeners. Teased out across the fourteen tracks of Ricky Martin, these strands are as likely to leave something for everyone to hate as for everyone to love. The experiment is to see how many tracks hit how many people. The follow-up disc due out in November should reflect the marketers' findings. For now, the far-reaching impact of Martin's eclecticism seems clear.