The Nativity, The Passion, The Pascha Pop Soul of Lady Gaga’s “The Cure”

Anthropopogy // Culture, Deconstruction, Prophile, Soundtrek, TK:LA

Live from the Calvary that is Coachella, welcome to this Pop Communion that is The Cure …

The-Cure

Feels, on, reals.

So it is and, again, here we are… and #againagain I don’t really know where to begin or end with this one as again again again there is no beginning or end to the perpetual Pascha that is “The Cure.” I still haven’t figured it out yet, but I enjoy musing in the meantime… #fortherecord #noneofthisisbinding #itsalljustmakebelieve #dontciteme

On the seventh day, Gaga had finished this work of creation, so she put to rest this Famous curse…

The Pretense

So, “The Cure.” I guess, broadly, briefly, it feels like… surrendering into the unknown abyss after a forty-day desert trek, only to find… that the hard-fought rock bottom was but a bridge, all along, before that luminous cloud rocket number nine.

The Past Tense Rewind

So, in this going-on seventh (eighth?) annual progressive cycle in literary association with a one said aforementioned Lady, I’ve learned something (just one something, no need for greed), “This” in all its “Thisness” has always, is always, and will always be happening in increasing measure well into the foreseeable future. While I have yet to identify the source of this odd compulsion to narrate creative works which are, by definition, already complete narratives; I exist with the knowledge that said compulsion will kick-in upon each and every Gaga release –– so why fight it? #hookahsnotbazookas I don’t always have the time, energy, or resources to make proper sense of existing narratives which, again, were published with enough existing sensibility to render any further commentary moot, unnecessary, and quite frankly, distracting; but again, the music marketplace didn’t ask Gallop to poll me on my feelings, and the internet doesn’t recognize expression or human existence unless translated into code and content; so, that said: *gestures toward face* this is me caring, and *sets fingers back on keys* this is me continuing.

#imaginaryreadersayswhat “Oh, wow:” #translation ▼

#SWIPERMAKEAFXXKINGPOINT

Now then, where were we supposed to be… right, so, “The Cure” within the historical literary context of Lady Gaga’s existing zeitgeist anthology / pop biography. So, Catholics and Pop acolytes have much in common #shockofallshocks, not the least of which being a fervent allegiance to the magnanimity of ritual, the experiential translation of alchemical mystery; and that fundamentally –– beyond mere Genesis, Nativity and Passion –– we (yes, I am a part and parcel of all both within said “we”) are natural-born Easter People. And “This” in all its “Thisness,” that is The Cure, is nothing more and never anything less than the Paschal Gospel’s Contemporary Record

#WELCOMEBACKTOTHENEWTESTAMENT #OHTHISOLDNEWTESTAMENT

PIWTTNT

#gottaremembertoreadthememos #literallytheonlyfeaturedreference

In a nutshell, The Cure’s world release reads like whatever Easter means to a displaced group of Millennial anybodies who happened to follow a certain frequency to the California desert by way of caravan scene or computer screen.

Vinyl Cut Prose // Be Scene: Lady Gaga, “I Want Your Love” (#TFWSS16)

Deconstruction, Soundtrek, TK:LA, TrapperKeeper, Vinyl Cut Prose

Whatever this is… – all of it. Forever and always. #andthatsallweneedtosayaboutsaidthus #always #paris #with #kids #these #daze

pretense: if only all covers projected couture #hauteculture #immerseinthepresent

If, If, I were to blinkk this I’d probably say… Disco Heaven, lucky sevens, “‘Bad Romance‘s bigger, badder, bolder older sister, the one who apprenticed under Baudrillard, and eloped with Josephine Baker one artful midnight in the city of lights – that older sister,” genes and jeans, harlows sprawled along quicksilver silkscreens, poetry in motion, paucity exposed gilded within, break beats, parisian heat, always Paris with artpop stars, bars and brilliance, every motion masterpiece a time and space void of twain…

always the anthem, all alone, because to go through life like a karate kid, eyes dream infinitely of love supreme… haus chic, somewhere basquiat and reagan… somewhere on sandbar 45… soulboxing with the luminaries… serving with edie and mcqueen, plato’s atlantis persephone’s renaissance, pandora’s fanmade scene… hemlines and basslines, well-tailored tempos… this is artpop as much as it is the fame as much as it is the electric kiss manifest boogie elastic…

Lyrically Speaking: “Tom’s Diner,” Giorgio Moroder + Britney Spears

Anthropopogy // Culture, Deconstruction, re:brand – America, Soundtrek, TK:LA

Good music speaks volumes… rather than impose analysis, step back and expose linguistic artistry… listen, look, and linger in fantastic rhythmic reality: lyrically speaking

“Tom’s Diner”Deja Vu (2015)

do-do-doo-do-do-doo-do-
do-do-doo-do-do-doo-do-

do-do-doo-do-do-doo-do-
do-do-doo-do-do-doo-do-

do-do-doo-do-do-doo-do-
do-do-doo-do-do-doo-do-

I am sitting
In the morning
At the diner
On the corner
I am waiting
At the counter
For the man
To pour the coffee
And he fills it
Only halfway

And before
I even argue
He is looking
Out the window
At somebody
Coming in

BMTV

do-do-doo-do-do-doo-do-
do-do-doo-do-do-doo-do-

Le Trap Haus Presents: Vinyl Mind Flow, Ep. 2

Anthropopogy // Culture, Deconstruction, Media, Pop Culture, re:brand – America, TK:LA, TrapperKeeper, Vinyl Cut Prose

The soul is a Geppetto.

The soul is a character, crafted at the hands of a Disney – to portray and display navigation. Precise design, guidance, vision, supposed to nurture and cultivate. Educate, inform, to build the context, the mental escape of this world for the inanimate – it has the power; and channel energy and light by way of inspired design, craftsmanship, workmanship, inspiration, execution, perspective, that creative spark

– and yet: it’s quiet, it’s sure. stoic. astute. precise and so articulate, in so few words, not that it doesn’t know them, but rather that it chooses to explore… the endless possibility in the world of language, in all its beautiful forms, and manifestations. it reaches beyond convention, and creates entirely new points of articulation. highlights them… paths, new roads to explore and ways to get from point a to point b and back again…

The Hills are Alive… with the sound of muses

Anthropopogy // Culture, Deconstruction, Soundtrek, TK:LA, TrapperKeeper, Vinyl Mind Flow

I riffed on The Sound of Music tribute at The 87th Annual Academy Awards Ceremony for ten minutes and twenty-eight seconds: this is the verbatim transcription…

So it would seem the hills are alive with the sound of music… the Hollywood Hills to be exact, this night, this beautiful night, Oscar Sunday… and amidst all of the flashing lights, Mother Monster, the pop mistress, the matriarch of music on behalf of a flailing industry – thought to be dead thought to be gone, thought to be sold out – rose to the occasion only to prove that all the charlatans were dead wrong.

Music is that which cements the experience of any moment, that auditory moment where those aural architects, as I said before, are able to manipulate the invisible… to be able to tap into those currents and those frequencies that you cannot see, but that you can feel stronger than any other sensory experience you’ve ever felt before… when you close your eyes, and you can feel your heart beat. When you close your eyes, and you can feel the goosebumps rising; when you can feel that ugly duckling becoming that beautiful swan, rising above it all because it found the rhythm, and it could never fall – it would falter – but never off that cliff never to never be seen again…

Fifteen Minute Transcription: Cheek to Cheek – Lady Gaga, Tony Bennett

Anthropopogy // Culture, Deconstruction, re:brand – America, Soundtrek, TK:LA, Vinyl Mind Flow

Cheek to Cheek is an aural alloy of the most masterful. Elements converge in a record album of jazz standards and one-take suzies, tears and tempos, fine-tuned fibres of the greatest art form to emerge from this American soil… classical and contemporary pillars found a musical canon of the most necessary, that which maintains the known order between high art and popular culture by collaboration and hybrid creation… in its pairing of Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga, the immense everything of said reality (think about it, think harder) Cheek to Cheek is ARTPOP, Vol. II.

http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/ladygaga/images/8/8a/Cheek_to_Cheek_Standard_Edition_artwork.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20140818233605

If, IF I were to blinkk this I’d probably say… don’t rush it, let it linger and waft along those invisible currents only the audible architects can manage to manipulate with their coursing lyrics and lifted crescendos…

For a girl who doesn’t wear pants, who dons only the holiest of stockings… and for a gentleman who watches an industry of beat-backed four-letter woes, where he once wailed infinite rhythms of legendary prose – anything goes. What’s old is new, and what’s new is never lost, just hidden beneath the aura of pop culture:

[Tony Bennett:]
The world has gone mad today
And good’s bad today

[Lady Gaga:]
And day’s night today
And black’s white today

[Tony Bennett:]
When most guys today that women prize today

[Lady Gaga:]
Are just silly gigolos

Heaven… I’m in Heaven… rocket number nine blast off to the planet: Heaven. Upon the melodious manifesto of eponymous nomination, one must step back from the phonograph and ask themselves: “What is an artRAVE, really and truly, beyond a neon-flashed, adrenaline-fueled speakeasy of the cheekiest nature? Boy…” When was the last time you saw divinely choreographed dialogues between musically-driven facades and figures… dancing and bad romancing in the elevated state of sonic sublime…

It was at this point in time when I pressed pause and decided, this is not a blinkk… I cannot contain the breadth of this “beat.” So, I tried something new… I riffed for a few… fifteen to be generally exact… because, well, this is The Fame… part forever and always.

Crate Dig: My First Blog Post #ever #kindof

Anthropopogy // Culture, Deconstruction, Pop Culture, Soundtrek, TK:DC, TrapperKeeper, Vinyl Mind Flow

Stumbled across my now-defunct first blog from back in 2007 #thatyear and in the past six years… not much has changed at all… what can I say?

For the sake of morbid curiosity… from October 2007… my first blog post… #itsadoosie #notheresnopictures

swiper sighs manifesto

So until I figure out this whole music blog thing i’ll just blog about pop culture, pseudo-politics, philosophy, anthropology, sociology, ology … the usual and of course media/entertainment which includes music, movies, tv a bit, books, or whatever suits my fancy.

Ummmm as for the music scene right now – it’s lacking in the mainstream. American Top 40 isn’t a good representation of music, the Top 40 should be indicative of the culture. The top 40 is watered down everything, even pop is watered down. Say what you will about Britney, Christina, N Sync, and Backstreet – but they were Pop: down to the core. They were catchy and they got into your head. They were like Saccharin; they were too sweet, and it was so synthetic, but they were devoured by the masses. You could not deny the sheer “Pop” of it.

SnappScenes: “Applause” – Lady Gaga

Anthropopogy // Culture, Deconstruction, Soundtrek, TK:LA, TrapperKeeper, Vinyl Mind Flow

I live for the applause, applause, applause – I live for the applause-plause, live for the applause #paws

Screen Shot 2013-08-22 at 7.36.10 PM

What I loved about Alejandro

This is the drop after the first waves and floods: I’m not here to talk about her facial features, or how to convert atheists into believers; I’m just saying that somewhere in the midst of a[n] indie short film, and a scene-by-scene homage to immaculate conceptions – and collections – lies a near perfect Pop music video period. Is pastiche supposed to be coherent? It is now – let’s delve.

What was lambasted in Born This Way

I don’t know where to begin or end with this one… and I suppose that’s the best way to be – as there is no beginning or end to the perpetual renaissance What artists do wrong is they lie, what critics do wrong is they try; I’m not going to try and pretend I know every conceptual reference here, nor analyze from a detached place of fault-and-fact finding – this isn’t about Pop cheat sheets and checklists… I’m just going to riff on what I know for me, and what I see

What lingered along the fringes of Scheiße

Lady Gaga broke her notoriously extended hiatus, premiering her first mastered piece of “new music” … Those two years of antagonizing anticipation culminated into the club-pulsing climax … Forget the fact that this may or may not be what you wanted to hear from someone about whom you may or may not give a scheiße – ether that; from start to finish, career and current track, no one – no one female Pop body – can produce: produce, what Gaga can. Line after line, time after time: perfection – the wait is always worth it.

There’s the flawlessly deft production we’ve come to expect from the Haus mother … stratospheric synth, deep bass, smooth distortion, uncannily human reverb pulsing the cacophony. Gaga lends her voice as an added layer, as much a part of the score as the bevy of inanimate instruments behind her

Eye Lights

Lady Gaga has solidified her sonic aesthetic and social impact – and they are one in the same. If the backbeat pulses harder than my own heartbeat, why not dance together? This is cold technology and hot harmonies, sheer energy, factory fashion, raw humanity, grime, graffiti, and glitterbombs; this is stream-of-consciousness that doesn’t make sense now, but will before the rest of the globe makes sense of itself: this is 31st Century schizo world – welcome Haume.

Four

Is what lays the foundation for “Applause:” The pulse as nothing more, and never anything less, than the traverse between polarity

– once you know the system’s rhythm, all that’s left to do is choreograph the rendevous #multiversallyspeaking

#snappit

The pulse, DJ White Shadow delivers Detroit – and so goes the nation. As far as I’m concerned, they laced the instrumentation with something not-entirely-approved by the FDA. Whether it’s the sonic robot-slap-to-the-face first spin, the morning-after pulled muscles result of a dolo dance party, or the realization that the method is in the systematic mania of said robot slap track – there is something unnatural about this rhythm: unnaturally human. It hollows and speaks at you in sophomoric platitudes, then it eases off while your guard remains staid, eventually you feel the tone thaw as the beat rises… it’s like Motown overtaking the machine, SoundScan beneath the Supremes… when you sing along, you’re fed the applause (whether or not you clap – the roar is the backing track): live to create, die to protect.

#vinylcutprose

The Re-Branding of America: Fame, it is the New Black

Anthropopogy // Culture, Deconstruction, re:brand, TK:LDN, TrapperKeeper, Vinyl Mind Flow

Fame… and it goes a little something like this

… and it smells a little something like cette

How to Make it in Famerica

 

FAME, as compounded by Lady Gaga:

Tears of Belladonna: One part government hooker #tearsontap, one part femme fatale #looselytranslated, one part Donna sans the Ma #bellathemonsterball, consummated in a nocturnal matrimony #nightshade and equally beautiful death #jumpingoutthewindow, wrapped in the skin of the most Luciferian fruit #suchaholyfood

Atropa belladonna or Atropa bella-donna, commonly known as BelladonnaDevil’s BerriesDeath Cherries or Deadly Nightshade, is a perennialherbaceous plant in the family Solanaceae, native to EuropeNorth Africa, and Western Asia. The foliage and berries are extremely toxic, containing tropane alkaloids. These toxins include scopolamine and hyoscyamine which cause a bizarre delirium and hallucinations, and are also used as pharmaceutical anticholinergics. The drug atropine is derived from the plant.

This is The Story… of a Cover Girl Named Sally TNGR

Anthropopogy // Culture, Deconstruction, Pop Culture, re:brand – America, TK:LDN

Alright, alright, alright – we’ve done this before… Well, not we, but me. So, don’t be scared – I’ve done this before. Gotta love album art, right? When it’s done right at least, which is the least you could ask from a generation of kids who make gifs and Photoshop tricks all day. Alas, today’s album art is… quite atrocious by-and-large. Anyhaps, when given the opportunity, I like to give stories to album covers – because a) why not (b) the picture itself already gave me the first thousand words, I’m just grabbing the baton (c) stop asking moot questions – the cover’s going to get creatively deconstructed. That said, Chester French is coming out with a new album #huzzah Yep, that Chester French #kanyeshrugsandsomeblackgirllove … connecting the dots… they dropped the album cover … connecting the dots … here goes the Blinkk:

This is the story… of a girl named Sally. Uh-oh, D.A. didn’t take you to prom… Max left you alone at the football field underneath the bleachers… The world has gone topsy-turvy. You’re any kid from Everytown, USA. You remember when you were a teen and the internet was awesome. You lived outside; it was boring, but it was okay – because you had a place where you were your projection: XangaLiveJournal, and MySpace were your digital protection. You “got” the net before the net got you. You were the future – the digital Magellan. You beat Y2K. You found some bootstraps and pulled yourself up. Maybe you blogged and grassrooted your way to Harvard. It was 2005 and you were on the fast track to the American Dream. You were going to be the next Elle Woods. You hung with guys that had the spirit of the Winklevosses and the style of a young Zuckerberg. You Photshopped and ProToolsed your way into the creative world. You became “somebody” on YouTube. You were going to be the one. Then, you realized – so was everybody else.