When I first saw the BTW Ball Poster, it immediately reminded me of something but I couldn't pin point what. Then just now, it hit me. I grabbed this picture off Oh No They Didn't.
The clothing the men are wearing, the poses, reminded me so much of Duran Duran's 'Seven and the Ragged Tiger' album.
I'm not going to call it a copy because it's really not but it definitely draws some inspiration. Maybe it's just the 80's thing again.
While I'm at it, I've read some of your comments asking why she's touring so late after releasing Born This Way?
I say good! It's a stupid mistake. She's going on tour more than a year after it's release. What kind of a business move is that? She spent the whole year promoting that crappy album. Wouldn't you go on tour within a couple of months of it's release when it's fresh in people's minds? Even her fans are saying they want this era over and they prefer 'The Fame' Gaga more. So now she's going to rehash this era all over again. As if one spin in the toilet wasn't enough! What's wrong with this chick? Seriously. I'm glad she made this lousy business move if it means she'll go away faster.
Also, I'm not sure what the whole Dracula's castle, Halloween theme has to do with being born this way and celebrating equality. Have you seen her stage sketch, you know, the one she released the day after Madonna released hers? Yes, I know most of you have. Well, here it is again.
I'm not sure how those suckers with seats by the stairs on each side of the stage will feel when all they're going to see a huge freakin' wall! And this whole "Monster Pit" nonsense......who wants to bet there will be at least one death in that thing half way through the tour?
Maybe it's the Kingdom for her fans.
Seriously Gaga, you're not mosh pit material. It's not even cool to like you anymore. Being a fan of yours is just about as cool as staning for Hanson. You're not bad ass and neither are your fans.
P.S. Jo Calderone is dumb. Stop embarrassing yourself.
Here's my favourite song off Seven and the Ragged Tiger.
Baby sees the future, tells me it’s got nothing for us… Nostra… Nostradamus — sung to the tune of Lady GaGa’s “Paparazzi.”
Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta, aka Lady GaGa,
hasn’t been in the public eye for very long, but given the hype, you
could be excused for thinking that it’s been just shy of forever. Credit
where due: it’s no small feat to direct the attention of today’s
attention-deficient masses and sustain it for more than the length of a
tweet. Yet it seems the grains in GaGa’s hourglass have finally begun
falling, and we all know what that means: time is fleeting for the new
Queen of Pop.
I’m not so bold as to call GaGa’s back-to-back appearances on “60
Minutes” and the Grammys a shark-jump, but it may be where her fame
clock officially began ticking. For someone who claims dominion over the
apparatus of fame itself, both events made a conspicuously feeble
impression. Not among her fans — those already under her spell remain
so. But if you are not a GaGa devotee (I believe she calls them
“monsters”), you likely regarded Ms. Germanotta’s Old Media blitz as the
definition of meh. Not even worth being
annoyed/disturbed/fascinated/repelled by.
Probably not even worth a blog post.
In fact, the reason that I’m even bothering with this exercise is
because I have an obsession with epoch-setting calendar events, however
minor. So, I’m calling this one for the record: February 13, 2011 marks
the official beginning of GaGa’s decline.
Since we’re here, let’s examine why. Admittedly, nobody under the age
of 35 watches “60 Minutes,” so GaGa’s aimless interview with Anderson Cooper
will have had a negligible impact on her core demographic. Actually,
I’m willing to bet the venerable program was the true beneficiary, as
GaGa’s most obsessive fans temporarily bolstered the number of viewers
who tune in to witness Andy Rooney‘s burgeoning dementia. (Forgive me, Morley Safer, for I have sinned…)
On “60 Minutes,” GaGa came across like a distracted grad school gal
sweating her final thesis. With regards to her peacockery and calculated
weirdness, I believe this Lady doth protest too much. GaGa did
everything she could to impress upon Cooper that she fully understands
each symbol that informs her meticulously crafted persona. This is the
wrong move for someone who trades in the techno-cryptic. We don’t need
you to tell us that you know why we’re enraptured. It kind of ruins it.
GaGa keeps explaining that she’s a “student of fame.” Nice work if
you can get it, but forgive those of us who have witnessed several
historic superstar permutations for expecting a little more. It’s not
that GaGa is drawing incorrect conclusions from her studies. It’s just
that, unlike true alchemists of adoration, she adds no new ingredients
to the stew. Everything GaGa does, says, or reflects is a pale
reflection of her forbears’ more innovative expression.
Surely it is difficult to be original in a fractured culture
saturated with corporate and brand symbols. But to be regarded as an
artist of lasting stature, one at least has to try. GaGa’s schtick can
be boiled down to Madonna and David Bowie, with a dash of Freddie Mercury and Elton John. Maybe some Cher, with her penchant for pantslessness and warbly singing. If only pastiche were a substitute for genius!
Back in Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust phase, he tapped into
a similar longing for acceptance that animates GaGa’s fans. Bowie took
the idea of alienation and turned it into an Alien Nation — a clan of
disaffected youth who reveled in their estrangement by exaggerating it
through gaudy makeup and “tacky things.” What Bowie did was hardly subtle, but at least he had the good sense not to fucking tell us
what he was doing. He respected his audience more than that. In fact,
he respected his audience so much that he dragged a portion of them
kicking and screaming through his metamorphosis into the Thin White
Duke. But that’s a tale for another time.
What’s GaGa’s next act? Does she even have one? Judging from her musical output, probably not.
Speaking of her music, it’s hardly worth mentioning at this point
that her new single, “Born this Way” is a melodic and rhythmic clone of
Madonna’s “Express Yourself.” Not that The Material Girl seems to care. The aging succubus will surely find a way to suck some extra lifeforce out of her sycophantic understudy.
GaGa’s performance at the 2011 Grammys was, despite the requisite
costumery and dancers, surprisingly bereft of spectacle. My favorite
part was the beginning, when she hatched out of some kind of space egg, a laMork from Ork or Spinal Tap in “Rock ‘n’ Roll Creation.”
Seriously:
And here's Lady GaGa:
Many of us who can afford to eat more than once a day are any
combination of bored, distracted or overwhelmed. We require escapism,
and for some, GaGa delivers. Better still, she does so in a way that
champions a vague sense of self-empowerment (Madonna) and commiseration
with fellow outcasts (Bowie). But can that sustain a career? On some
essential level, Madonna possesses the raw material of which lasting art
is made (I can’t believe I just said that). Bowie, for his part, is an
ace showman/manipulator. He’s also a fabulous musician who had to grow
into that role. Yes, Bowie, too, struggled to transcend his influences —
Velvet Underground, Dylan, Bolan, Iggy. But he eventually did so, and triumphantly.
Can GaGa do the same? Clock’s ticking.
This article was written back in February 2011 shortly after the Grammy Awards. It's interesting how almost an entire year has passed since it was posted and the author really was psychic. Nothing has improved in Stefani's career. It's been one lump of coal after the other and each lump of coal was bigger than the first.
2011 was not a good year for her. The momentum of 2010 peaked incredibly fast and blew up like a volcano in Iceland, spewing the ash of her career everywhere. The veil has been lifted. Putting Little Monsters aside, people are starting to see Stefani for the sham that she is.
I think people have become so over her that even food critics are writing horrible reviews of her parent's restaurant JUSTBECAUSE it's Gaga. I have an inkling the food wasn't all that terrible, mainly because the chef, Art Smith, was Oprah Winfrey's personal chef until 2007. Something tells me she wouldn't hire someone who made crappy food.
Wow, she's such a bad ass. It's probably because she wants to shag her little monsters during her next tour when she's not too busy crying in front of mirrors because she still feels like that loser kid in high school.
I think Taylor should drop off this bag of used clothing to Goodwill and be done with it. His dignity should be worth more than a famous girlfriend worth $90 million.