Oh Gaga, how I love thee

… Let me count the ways

I was fortunate enough–cause I’m a free bitch, baby–to attend the Lady Gaga concert on her Monster Ball tour last night at Radio City Music Hall.

As you can see from my photos (taken poorly with my camera phone) our seats were deliciously close, about 8 rows from the stage and just 2 behind Donald Trump. I could not have been more impressed with the show.  It lacked the some of the over-production of other pop singers, because Gaga can, well, actually sing.  Sorry, Britney, Madonna, et al.

As a concert it was not dramatically overdone.  It had the usual killer lighting design and occasional pyrotechnic –she shot us all with a gun that looked as if it were emitting a high powered sparkler. There was also plenty of filler with video clips ranging from Lady Gaga getting a tattoo, to a handsome man vomiting what looked like Listerine on her.  I don’t know why it worked, but it did.  Her dancers were stellar too, and costumed such that there was a beautiful androgyny to them.  Best of all, they never overshadowed her, perhaps because she was wearing costumes like this. 

I appreciate her efforts to put on a somewhat smaller scale show, she could have easily sold out the much larger Madison Square Garden.  Instead, she chose to risk exhaustion and perform 4 shows in a slightly more intimate venue.  Perhaps I’ve been drinking the Monster Juice, but I truly believe that she loves her monsters, her fans.

And she wants us to love her too.  “Take my picture,” Lady Gaga begged of her monsters.  She was ever so briefly coquettish as she lay on the stage and likened herself to Tinkerbell, “I’ll die if you don’t clap for me.”  We do! Good Gaga, we do love you!

The only omission from the show were the McQueen heels that I somehow manage to mention in just about every post I write.  Speaking of heels, I wore mine.

yes i did

Lady Gaga, I do want to be friends, I hope that’s okay.