I Can't Stop Listening to Lady Gaga

What does that say?

Who knows? It's not my job to judge, here at TYOMP. My job, as I understand it, is to, on a more or less daily basis, slice open a vein and pour my blood out. Fuel for your perverse pleasure, dear reader. Nutrition for your voyeuristic depravity. So shame on you, not on me.

That said, I wish she had more material.

Lady Gaga?
Yes.
Really?
Please don't think less of me.
Speaking for the group, impossible.

I'm particularly taken by the way she wails "I don't wanna be friends" at the four minute mark of Bad Romance. And wails is the right word. And not the way, say, Merry Clayton wailed in Gimme Shelter. That was rocking wailing--a while different thing. No. "I don't wanna be friends" comes out like a scream of despair. Primal wailing. Chilling (if you can let yourself get past the fact that you're a grown man listening to Lady Gaga while your paint dries).

One could argue that the closest thing present day pop music gets to symphonic is in the big-budget, hyper-produced albums that people like Gaga produce. I mean, you sit back (waiting for the paint to dry) and listen closely and there is more shit going on than you can imagine. If Phil Spector were still alive he'd shit a brick.

On a less troubling note, I just unrolled this and hung it in my studio.



For the record, it's about six and a half feet tall. Fills the room nicely.