The Death of Godga, part 1

The Death of Godga
My Relationship with Gaga and Why She Must Die

I was inspired to write this half out of boredom and half because I had come across an article by Camille Paglia entitled, “Lady Gaga and the Death of Sex” on the UK’s The Sunday Times website (http://www.thesundaytimes.co.uk/sto/public/magazine/article389697.ece). The tagline states that in her article, Paglia “demolishes an icon.” That’s a rather large claim coming from someone that in 30 years no one will have ever heard of, especially when that icon is Lady Gaga. Paglia’s article reads more like an opinionated, jealousy inspired tirade rather than actual cultural commentary. At first I disagreed with everything Paglia had written, but the more I thought about it, the more I began to agree with some of her points, though I still disagree with her larger conclusions. Paglia attacks Gaga’s sex appeal and also tries her best to attack Gaga’s relationship with her fans, which is rather low because Gaga does genuinely inspire people. Perhaps Paglia is right that Germanotta was not a misfit, but that doesn’t mean that Gaga isn’t. You also don’t have to be a misfit to inspire those who feel they are to be proud of themselves. Gaga’s Little Monsters are an eclectic and loyal group who do indeed look up to her. I see nothing wrong with finding solace and inspiration from a woman who doesn’t pay attention to the mud that people like Paglia sling at her.

I also wrote this because Lady Gaga has been popping into my life a lot recently. My Russian friend Anton demands we listen to “Lovegame” everytime he gets in my car, she just won 8 VMA’s, I’ve been listening to her music in my own attempt to understand electronic and club music, and the other night I had a dream that Ms. Gaga was my best friend. Perhaps it was the fact that it was the first dream I’d had in a while due to my sleeping issues, but when I woke up I was legitimately disappointed that I wasn’t friends with Gaga. This fantasy is probably intensified by the enigmatic cult of personality that surrounds her. Rumors persistently abound that Gaga is a man, battling Lupus, strung out, and even an agent of the illuminati.

For me the mysterious case of Lady Gaga is intriguing because I don’t pay attention to current trends in music at all and generally have no clue who any of your favourite bands are, but I care about Gaga. I actually shelled out the $5 to buy the issue of Rolling Stone that featured an interview with Gaga (though the cover shot wasn’t bad either). I have an immense amount of respect for Lady Gaga, which is strange considering I detest the current state of music and its commodification and mass produced stars. But perhaps for me Gaga is different because she did exactly what I wanted to if I ever got the chance to pursue music seriously, which is to invent herself as an over the top character that she plays in front of the entire world. In a period of only a year or two, Stefani Germanotta completely transformed herself from a relatively unknown, seemingly normal NYC teen to the most popular musical act in recent history. Britney Spears didn’t blow up like this, nor did N’SYNC, Hanson, Backstreet Boys, etc.

In a strange way I feel like I know Gaga, even though I’ve never met her and know very little about her. This could be simply the intended effect of her character and the mass commercialization of Gaga, but I’d like to think it’s not. Maybe it’d be better to state that I feel like I understand Gaga, though I could be completely wrong in that regards as well. Like I previously mentioned, Gaga is doing what I have always wanted to do. While she is most often showered with comparisons to Madonna due to her gender and music, I feel her closest kin lies in the Ziggy Stardust persona played by David Bowie in the early 70’s, though perhaps because of my Bowie obsession I’m a bit biased in that assessment. Madonna changed her name, but never really transformed herself to be a larger than life, almost cartoonish character in the way that Bowie and Gaga did.

But there is a danger to attempting to invent a persona that you live 24/7 because eventually the line between oneself and the character becomes blurred and the two lives merge. This really isn’t surprising considering that often people who do this are using the characters they create to overcome, or compensate for, some sort stage-fright (Bowie), confidence issues, or other personal problems. These characters can often be seen as a mirror which reflects the dreams and aspirations of the actors who play them. And more often than people would think, some of the most outlandish stage personalities are quite reserved and even shy in real life (Freddie Mercury for example). In an out-of-character interview, Steven Colbert once mentioned that he keeps himself as distant from his character as possible, and that one should always be able to wear their character lightly, and be able to slip in and out of it like a glove. When an artist begins to let their character consume them, the need for change becomes inevitable. After all, “when the kids had killed the man he had to break up the band” (David Bowie – Ziggy Stardust).