Lady Gaga

Well, we’ve been spared a flashy arrival in a huge fibreglass egg and a dress made entirely of animal flesh, but Lady Gaga hasn’t failed to make some waves while she’s been in town.

On Wednesday night she performed for an adoring crowd of her ‘little monsters’ at Sydney Town Hall. It was all quite sedate, for a Gaga-gig. A flesh-coloured bedazzled onesie and an aqua wig was a flashy costume, sure, but it was no meat dress.

And then, there it was. The lady herself, resplendent in a black vinyl mermaid tail, emerged from backstage as only one with their legs bound together in a somewhat restrictive costume could; in a wheelchair.

Continue reading "I reckon Lady Gaga was wheelie, wheelie awesome" »

Poor Stefani Germanotta. Not only does she have to clomp and totter around the globe in monstrosities masquerading as shoes and spend hours being squeezed and pummelled into her Lady Gaga outfits every day, but the poor darling has to deal with being constantly compared to Madonna.

Sure, Gaga and Madge (in her time) might both have a soft spot for a conical bra, a scruffy boyfriend and a penchant for a generous splattering of religious iconography, but make no mistake - Gaga’s no Madonna and Madonna’s never been a Gaga.

Because, when you peel away the wigs and the body glitter and the raw meat, there are massive differences between the two pop princesses when it comes to sex, religion and politics – you know, all the simple stuff.

Continue reading "Pop princess Lady Gaga’s no Material Girl" »

RIP Lady Gaga, Kim Kardashian, Justin Timberlake, Usher, Serena Williams, and Elijia Wood. For today at least, they are dead, digitally speaking.

They are amongst a host of celebrities who have signed on to stage their “digital death,” that is, they have temporarily pulled the plug on their Twitter and Facebook lives until their loyal followers stump up $1 million for World AIDS Day.

But this cyber stunt raises an interesting possibility – what if we like this blessed silence? What if we find we don’t crave their incessant inanities and misspelt, mangled English?

Continue reading "Instead of paying them to Tweet, let’s pay them not to" »

Beyonce was right. You’ve been a very bad girl - a very, very bad, bad girl Gaga.

The poplette inflicted senseless pain on British fans when her performance of the song Monster included her being “attacked” and “bitten” on her neck. She then sung with fake blood pouring down her neck before apparently dying in a pool of blood.

This, just hours after 12 people were tragically killed by shooter taxi driver Derrick Bird in Northern England.

Continue reading "Gaga’s gone ga ga, and not in a good way" »

A woman in her late thirties leaps out of her seat in a muggy Sydney Entertainment Centre, screaming as if she were a teenager again as a larger-than-life Lady Gaga, wearing skin-tight black leather, gyrates her genital region over the upper thigh of one of her female dancers.

Good for her. She’s just letting her hair down, getting away from it all for a night, the house, the husband, the kids.

Oh, my mistake, the kids are right next to her, cheering along to the hyper-sexualised live spectacle, and even doing a little gyrating of their own.

Continue reading "Gaga’s go-go stick is too big for little minds" »

The SMH called her a “mediocre pop star” and a “fashion victim.” Every FM breakfast presenter worth their salt has cracked jokes about her having a penis, which is not very nice.

The Daily Telegraph today speculated she didn’t even have the stamina to make it through her Australian concerts.

And The Sunday Telegraph on the weekend wondered if the film clip for Telephone was too racy for her young fans. The video does address the penis rumours, to dramatic effect, and contain a bit of girl-kissing-girl. If you’re still shocked by that in 2010, you need to get out more.

Why is everyone giving Lady Gaga such a hard time?

Continue reading "Why are people so unkind, to Lada Gaga" »

The first time I remember being confused was Christmas morning 1980, inspecting the wake of Santa’s latest handiwork. Casting a keen eye over a freshly unwrapped model of an X-Wing Fighter, I spied the words DOES NOT CONTAIN GLUE on the box’s spine, and quizzed my pops about this glaring oversight.

In his unimpeachable wisdom, Dad told me not to worry, as he’d already chucked in the glue for me. Hang about. Did you say YOU put the glue in? YOU? I was girt by confusion.

Was my father some sort of wizard who could teleport a tube of glue into an already-wrapped present?

Continue reading "Ten things that genuinely confuse me" »