SnappIt: Well look who just got a job at the electric company… bringin’ the sweatglam-seventies-borderline-aerosol-eighties club scene back with more flamboyant fervor than the lil’ tranny train that could work a runway:
girl paws yes please.
#inanutshell: Just as big as before, but a more detailed, well-composed, worldly, optimistic “Bad Romance.” Very “After getting best undressed senior in high school, I went to Cal Berkeley, hung out in the Haight and now I’ve expanded my rainbow horizons.” *That* big sister. … *that* Dennis the Menace to Madonna’s Mr. Wilson “I love you and all but, the what are you doing on my lawn – all the tick-tock time?!”
Two Snapps A Whirl A Twirl and Circle Around
It’s a wrap; somewhere, Ronald Reagan is crying on Basquiat’s shoulder #postpostdiscodemonic #allsmileshere This is what some would call a “Game Changer,” this is what lil’ monsters would refer to as a “GagameChanger” – before underwriting “AND IT WAS BORN THIS WAY, BABY!” for
a quick fix good measure – either way, this matters. She’s been saying it all year, but it’s a bit different when it happens.
“Ugh swiper… but how does it soundddddd – what does it all meannnnn?”
So: the rundown… We’ve got Madge on parade with strong undertones of “Open Your Heart” throughout, and a splash of “Holiday” percussion to close – because on this most glorious of Pop Holidays (Happy Birthday Madison Square Garden, never say never let them see you cry at a premiere, Degrassi In Too Deep premiere: so far gone there #whateverittakes, NYFW F/W 2011) you have to liberate your soul to truly celebrate #expressyourself We’ve got three-the-pop-tart-way back on board as Gaga introduces her most highly-anticipated career-defining single to date with the same “Open Your Heart” that set bed-jumping Britney on her way down the cinematic Crossroads #oflife… Same fork, different fate me thinks…
Then, we’ve got the general thematic vibe… Gay, straight, lesbian #thoughtshewasapisces, transgendered, “Orient-made” #poeticinjustice, Lebanese, beige, broke, evergreen, yellow, black, white, precious, Sidibe in his sight we’ve got a Rainbow Coalition anthem for the every (abovementioned demographic). Welcome to Pop politics in America: because we don’t care how long it takes – we’ll get the census in every household, even – and especially – if it means putting said survey to a catchy dance beat #symphoniccensus.
And thennnn… we’ve got Gaga going H.A.M. like Capital H.I.M. – some Theology, some Biology: Same DNA, but Born This Way (Art? and Science? … plus Religion?! #WONTSOMEBODYPLEASETHINKOFTHECHILDREN) We’ve got post-crescendo riffs – a bit of Cher for the charlatans, some Spanglish melodic mingling para las cholas, and some socio-politics… a lot #britneynevergotpolitical #jkbutsrsly We’ve got a song that captures the soul of the country – by mandatory saturation alone; weaves the marginalized into the national tapestry, the underclass are again part of American rock and rhythm. We’ve got a dancefloor anthem for the baddest bunch of kids #youbettawork; we’ve got more than a sound; we’ve got the makings of a scene change: post-post-disco pop schemes and welfare queens – born this way: universal healthcare for the music industry – because nursery percolation is a pre-existing condition.
Finally we’ve got some splashes of Operatic Rock – because you woke up on this, that, and the other side of Luc Carl this morning
This album is going to be – among every and all other things – the My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy of 2011: that phenomenal masterpiece, perfectly crafted piece of work, that you’ve been waiting seemingly forever to witness, and now that you have – not that it isn’t perfect – but it’s just as perfect as it was when you got the lyrics, exclusive album cut, cover art, release date, and everything but the rhythm on Twitter. It’s expected perfection; like the Tickle-Me-Elmo/Pogs/Polly Pocket/Red Ryder BB Gun/Books/#inmycase The Bodyguard Cassette Tape in ’92, under the Christmas Tree – the same one your mom showed you the week before to make sure it was the right one. It’s great – just as great as it was when you made sure it was the great you wanted; G.O.O.D. Fridays great. But at the same time this is so not – everything without context is a lie.
When Justin Bieber and James Blunt whipped up their own versions of “Born This Way” first, using lyrics Gaga tweeted to the world, it wasn’t bastardizing or ruining anything
intent notwithstanding. Then, it was passable as a “spoof” for reputation’s sake #wecouldvewrittenabettersongbutwedidnt; now, it is laughable #youplaytoomuch because it embodies the state of music culture – Gaga can literally: write her peers a song, give them carte blanche, in the middle of peak publicity during their media blitz Bieber Fever pitch – and still leave them idle on the American bandstand… days later… with a track cut months ago – her past is literally futuristic for the competition.
So, like the lunar sun, the proper release eclipses all former anything: it paralyzes the preconceptions and false perceptions. Even after getting all of the fragmented pieces – “Born This Way” is brand new; more importantly, when given the context of its own self, reflecting the character of its own creator: it’s true.
That said: if you want to know where all of “this” #whateverthatmeans started… if you’re looking for someone to accuse for the inevitably high rate of retirement, hurt feelings, and records peaking at tin-can status in the industry this year – the reason for this socio-sonic renaissance – blame it on The Brits:
Looking back, she payed homage to McQueen, and at 23 was the unofficial eulogist honoring Lee on the world’s behalf. The Brits also saw the baptism of The Haus’ bouncing baby band-that’s-better-than-yours: Emma. Emma, the proclaimed “future,” is a fully-functioning keyboard, guitar, and drum machine in one. Set on a heart shaped frame, this behemoth is, well, the future. In said future I want Gaga dj-ing my next post-apocalyptic sweet sixteen Haus party (but daddy I want it nowww!) – only if Emma is the hypeman. The future sound – if Emma (getting tired of the name yet) is any indication – will be something old and new, something electronic and blues, something with dark bass riding along symbiotically with white keys… something dope.