Some try to paint the insatiably effervescent Lady Gaga as a single entity, but those who listened to Gaga’s new album Born This Way will attest that this effort is the result of three strikingly different personalities.
The first noticeable disposition is one defined by reverence. Though Gaga always presented a certain artistic versatility, the sheer weight of inspiration drawn from mid- to late-1980s pop divas is striking.
Showcasing a persona that wraps Paula Abdul, Whitney Houston and Madonna all into one, these tracks (“Born This Way,” “Judas,” “Bad Kids” and “Fashion of His Love”) should be celebrated in their seamless blend of exemplary historical tribute and distinct individual flavor.
The second side of Lady Gaga heard on this album is an unfortunate, dumbed-down version of the artist we already knew.
“Bloody Mary” is an indulgent middling song in the vein of older tracks “Alejandro” and “Monster” but lacks the pizzazz of either.
Though “Hair” tries to be a rocking embrace of the “be who you are” theme of the album, it comes off much more like an affluent white
girl anthem.
But the tragic fault of Born This Way is that the tracks induced by Gaga’s third exterior exemplify every quality belittlers have berated her about since the start of her career, and claims of what they interpret as a single, self-serving caricature are founded in these songs.
The relentlessly stupid “Government Hooker” sounds more like it was conceived in the mind of a frightened conservative, one whose only exposure to the Lady was a snapshot of her wearing her infamous meat dress.
Gaga goes on to foolishly point out the difference between herself and British/Sri Lankan performer M.I.A. in the less-than-creative, faux-multicultural jam “Scheibe.”
This all-style, no-substance pattern continues to gain force in “Americano” and “Black Jesus – Amen Fashion.”
Whether the masses believe it or not, in the case of Gaga, the costumes, makeup and all-around eccentric public behavior were supplementary to the music; an advertising campaign understood by many, attempted by some, and achieved by very few.
The majority of the album is technically impressive. It is an exposé of Stefani Germanotta as a 25-year-old musician, or to be exact, a shrewd pop/dance diva in the wake of Aphex Twin, Daft Punk and Air. But her astute musical discretion alone is not enough to save this record.
On Born This Way, too many of the songs have become the soundtrack
to the public image.
—Andy Collier is a senior studying audio production. If you’re scared of the monsters and sick of the love games, email him at ac265406@ohiou.edu
@ThePostCulture
