Something is happening to me. Rarely, if ever, am I so consumed by something so as to spend most of my waking hours trapped in its embrace. Granted, I do have intrests, as everyone does, but they don’t consume me entirely. Not like this. And what minor trends I do attend to are usually worn out in a week or two, this is different. This is Lady Gaga.
Like many I was first skeptical and wholly uninformed of who Lady Gaga even was, let alone be one to listen to her music. My first true taste was her performance at the 2009 VMA’s. Naturally, I was intrigued, most pop performances glean seuality and excess, but this was different, it was more than just that. It was crude and violent, while still retaining those paramount marquees of popdom. Still, the brief interest that had been sparked in me quickly waned (save for discussions of over the top fashion; birds’ nests, lace faces etc. ) Then several weeks later, almost entirely by chance I cam e across her newest music video for “Bad Romance”, remembering the VMA performance I lingered and was graciously rewarded both visually and aurally by her music and video working so well together.
It is here that I want to interject, if only briefly, the grip this music held over me those first 48 hours (though its hardly less now than before if only because that time bordered on obsession). It was nothing short of astounding. Were I of the more delusional sort I might attribute this to some sort of subliminal messaging campaign built to keep me tuned in. Though I have no proof that its not…
Getting back to Gaga, I probably watched the “Bad Romance” video 8 or 9 more times that day alone. I was utterly enraptured. Everything about it screamed satisfaction to my senses, some visceral aesthetic unnameable, but you can feel it. And its just so god damned catchy.
Here is where things really escalated.
I did all that I could to learn a respectable background on Lady Gaga, expecting to find some fatal flaw that would be our undoing; a proper premise to afford an early escape from joining the ranks of her listening masses. But with each new fact my admiration only grew (see: influence of Freddy Mercury, John Lennon inspired tattoo art, writing her own songs, steadfast support of the gay community etc. ) This isn’t the way its supposed to be. I’m an ironic hater of mass culture, reveling instead in the “low brow” and “unknown”, which of course countless other adhere to. I am an unwilling hipster, as painful as that is to say out loud. I know I’m a hypocrite, but so is everyone else and at least I know it and readily admit it (SUPERIORITY COMPLEX MUCH) (Sorry.)
So is it okay for me to like nay love Lady Gaga? Who fucking cares? All I know is that I do and thus far nothing has sundered that opinion. But then people say, STTEEEEEVVVEEEE how can you be a socialist and idealize someone who allegedly epitomizes capitalism at its cruelest? Because I fucking want to thats why.
To take a more rationed approach: I don’t see it as that straightforward and I don’t feel the two have to be mutually exclusive. To me that’s like saying “How can you claim to be against pedophilia, yet still listen to Michael Jackson? That’s faulty logic, the two have no causal relationship to one another. So STFU pump the jams blast the Gaga and just fucking dance. Life is too short to hate Lady Gaga.
P.S. This wasn’t really a review at all, save for a short admission of love for “Bad Romance”. I will eventually review both Fame and The Fame Monster soon enough. Whenever the mood strikes me. I love you all. Bye.
P.P.S. I wrote this is honor of one of Lady Gaga’s greatest causes, I guess you could say the cause of our generation, Gay Rights. So please take the time to do something no matter how small in support of this. Especially in NJ when this is right on the precipice of success or failure. Go Gays!