Whatever you think of her fairly generic pop, it’s not hard to understand why people love a Lady Gaga show. It’s like Halloween, clubbing, and a pajama party all rolled into one massive spectacle, with giant puppets. Plus, you can wear nothing but a roll of yellow caution tape and get away with it. Plenty of fans jumped on that last option for Gaga’s show at HP on Wednesday. Most of the little monsters, as she refers to her fans, went nuts for a set list that was front-loaded with “Dance in the Dark,” “Just Dance” and “The Fame,” ramped up in the middle to “Telephone,” “So Happy I Could Die” and “Show Me Your Teeth,” and climaxed with “Paparazzi” and an encore of “Bad Romance.” The show’s plot followed Gaga and her friends trying to get to the Monster Ball, wandering through a Tim Burton-esque version of a New York landscape, and being chased by the Fame Monster, an actual gargantuan puppet monster looking vaguely like Jabba’s Rancor from Return of the Jedi.
Though some of her most upbeat songs are catchy, I don’t have a lot of use for eighth-generation disco retreads that were tired back when Madonna was pumping them out two decades ago, so I have no problem admitting I wasn’t there for the music. I’ve always liked her videos, though, and appreciated her general weirdness.
And there was plenty of that. Aside from the normal multi-level dance routines, rising platforms, colored fog and pyrotechnics that one expects to see at this kind of show (although it was pretty cool when her piano went up in flames for “Speechless”), there were lots of Gaga-specifc touches, especially the costumes. Back to Madonna for a minute: any fan who tells you Lady Gaga isn’t a Material Girl spin-off is in a bizarre (and wholly unnecessary) state of denial. But the differences between the two were fully obvious at this show. While Madonna got slicker, blander and more superficial once she settled into fame, there’s something refreshingly crude and personal about Lady Gaga. A lot of her costumes, however much they may have cost, seriously look like they were made by her mom the night before. And that is awesome. My favorite was when she came out dressed in what was basically a gigantic mop, which jutted out in all directions from the top of her head and hung down so that it was impossible to see her at all behind the strands. I mean, who would even think of that? It’s not sexy, it’s not glamorous, it’s just freakin’ strange.
There was plenty of sex appeal, though, especially during the fake-blood-and-simulated-screwing soaked “Show Me Your Teeth.” It was as edgy as an episode of True Blood, which is about as far as you can push the mainstream these days. Gaga isn’t afraid to be dark and genuinely disturbing with her imagery, and she borrows from fetish culture far more convincingly than any of the other pop stars who’ve flirted with it (including Madonna) have ever managed. The best moment, though, for sheer WTF entertainment had to be when she began delivering her “take-away” messages at the end of the show: “Believe in yourself,” “be yourself,” “never let yourself down,” etc. That’s pretty standard for this kind of thing, other than the fact that there were sparks shooting out of her breasts and crotch while she said them.
And yet, there was something so damn earnest about it, and the crowd responded. It was one of several times she emphasized her bond with the fans, and her ability to make it seem like a genuine connection rather than an image she’s trying to sell is obviously a huge part of her appeal. Pop stars generally lack empathy on stage—almost by design—but her pro-gay, pro-equality, pro-misfit, pro-individual message is a powerful one. Maybe it’s just because when she says “be yourself,” fans see how much success she’s had taking that message to its extreme. This is a woman who simply does not care in any way what other people think of her, or what she’s doing. Other than $40 t-shirts, she’s not trying to sell anything.
Gaga’s follow-up show tonight at HP is sold-out, but she’ll be back at Oracle Arena in Oakland on March 22 of next year.
