"I traded fame for love / Without a second thought / It all became a silly game / Some things cannot be bought." Madonna, the most revered and reviled woman in the world, is confessing. Gone are the public displays of her kinky fantasies, her forays into exasperating bubble-gum pop and her saturation of every media channel available. Suddenly, we must accept that our whining, petulant Material Girl has evolved once more. Call the new Madonna "Ethereal Girl." Yes, all the rumors are more than true. Her new album, Ray of Light, pulls off the seemingly impossible. Madonna--our symbol of superficiality, our icon of cheesy urban culture--has gone spiritual.

Madonna sings? It certainly is an acceptable question figuring that the fanfare stampede consistently stomps all over her music. On some level, it's Madonna's own fault. Though she is the quintessential marketing genius, the prelude to each of her recent albums has involved a media blitz that focuses on everything but the music. In 1992, she dumped Sex, her disastrous book of carnal fantasies, onto the market just two weeks before the release of Erotica. Furthermore, her terrifyingly bad movie, Body of Evidence, hit theaters the same weekend of the album's release. Result: She whines that the vastly underrated album never got the listening it deserved, but Madonna shrewdly orchestrated the blitz and paid the consequences.

She laid low for a while, and resurfaced in 1994 with the smooth, sultry grooves of Bed-time Stories. In the few weeks leading up to the release she tried another reinvention--this time into a softer, more "user-friendly" Madonna. Though the album featured some of her best music, the media dumped on the "good girl" attempt and dredged up all the disasters of her "Sex Trilogy." Result: the album debuted high on the charts and sank fast.

And then there was 1996's Evita excursion, finally bringing the Material Girl out of her funk and into a new stage of evolution. She even took lessons to improve a voice which even she knew was dreadfully weak. Indeed, Madonna was set to wow everyone with her foray into showtunes and her new vocal range. History, however, repeated itself: Madonna got pregnant halfway into the movie's shoot and delivered her baby a couple of months before the movie opened. Result: "Mama Madonna" mania took over the country--the album, unfortunately, did not.

This time, there's no fanfare, no ridiculous media blitz over her new live-in lover, no distractions from the music. After listening to Ray of Light, it's easy to see why Madonna is such a celebrated icon. Even though she's made questionable choices and reinvented herself a tad too many times, there is no denying her superb talent. Her new album features the most captivating, energetic, innovative music that Madonna has produced. In her quest to mix spirituality and trendy electronica, she has discovered a musical realm that will revitalize her career.

Ray of Light is in itself an exploration, a journey into groundbreaking musical textures. Over the years, Madonna's old-school music has become obsolete: cheap bubble-gum pop, throwaway dance numbers--it all seemed the same. Moreover, she never had the voice to truly be a respected presence in the music world--the early '90s saw Madonna confined to the DJ racks at '80s dances. And of course, she realized this--and promptly took action. After her Evita lessons, Madonna's voice has become confident, rich, and boldly unique. On the title track, she dives into a campy, exhilarating discofest that has her jumping octaves, attacking wildly high passages, and having a rollicking good time showing off her new skills. Amidst all the other expressions of spirituality and profound confessions on the album, it is the one song that reminds us that Madonna is a thrilling entertainer, now wielding dazzling maturity.

Electronica is Madonna's ideal realm. Her shallow pop seemed to float without foundation in her previous albums. Every time she tried to be "innovative" or "groundbreaking," it all turned into another exercise in pleasing the Top 40 crowd. The songs on Ray of Light are built around producer William Orbit's spectacular backgrounds: synthesizers illuminate the music with pseudo-stars, comets, flowing rivers, and gurgling heavenly blips. "Sky Fits Heaven," for instance, would be a dismally boring song without the lightly pulsating background that perfectly matches the song's lyrics.

Water is a prevalent them on Ray of Light. Indeed, Madonna equates water with redemptive healing, using it as a symbol for her spiritual awakening. Every once in a while, the results are strained. "Swim" has the singer escaping to the bottom of the ocean floor, but the lyrics seem immature against the brilliantly sophisticated melody. "Mer Girl," on the other hand, closes the album with a soft, edgy song that is certainly her most personal--the album ends on the painful note "And up to the hill / I ran and I ran / I'm looking there still / And I smell her burning flesh / Her rotting bones / her decay / I ran and I ran / I'm still running today."

Motherhood, then, also plays a crucial role in Madonna's growth. While "Mer Girl" dredges up the aching memories of her own mother's premature death, "Little Star" embraces her future with baby Lourdes. "God gave a present to me," she sings in the album's most bare song, "Never forget how to dream / Butterfly / Never forget where you come from / From love / You are a treasure to me." Finally, her lyrics seem inspired and more than the giggly rhymes of the past.

Two songs stand out on Ray of Light as Madonna's best work in the last decade. "Frozen," now dominating the singles chart, is an exotic paean that best represents her new sound. In fact, the best part of the song has Madonna barely singing at all. Her subtle hums add breathtaking texture to Patrick Leonard's haunting melody. Even more impressive is the opening track of Ray of Light, "Drowned World" (aka Substitute for Love). As the founder of Maverick Records, Madonna certainly has learned something from Alanis Morissette, her label's recent mega-discovery. "Drowned World" is a colorful, refreshingly down-to-earth song that sounds Tori Amos-like and could easily have come from Alanis herself. Madonna pours herself out without the least bit embarrassment: "Had so many lovers / Who settled for the thrill / Of basking in my spotlight / I never felt / So happy." The song ends with a rejection of all the Material Girl once held dear "No handsome stranger, heady danger / Drug that I can try / No ferris wheel, no heart to steal / No laughter in the dark / No one night stand, no far off land / No fire that I can spark." The ending of the song is irresistibly cryptic: "And now, I find / I've changed my mind." And then you hear her final whisper, "This is my religion."

Has Madonna really given it all up? Has she become a "worshipper at the guru's lotus feet" as she professes in "Shanti/Ashtangi"? Probably not. Yet, even if it all is another ingenius marketing ploy, she has certainly matured. With baby Lourdes prompting her to shed the superficial exterior, we're finally seeing Madonna's artistic core. And indeed, it's a captivating, haunting, dazzling alluring one that will reenergize both her career and her fans. Like a prayer indeed.