Dear Lady Gaga,
I should start by congratulating you on the release of your new album Born This Way and of course on you being the most powerful celebrity in the world, according to Forbes. All praise aside, I think we need to have a talk.
When you first made a splash on the music scene in 2008, I was immediately enchanted by you. ‘This girl knows how to party on red wine, just like me. SOULMATES! (Or with RedOne. Whatever! He’s not important.)” As you soldiered on throughout your early career you transformed from an average throwaway pop princess to a dark, mysterious faux-arty techno queen and I loved every step of the way.
‘Who would wear a lobster on her head ? That’s SO Gaga. (Or Isabella Blow. Whatever! It’s a tribute.)’ ‘Who would pretend to kill herself at the VMA’s?! Oh. Em. Gee. She did it again! SO GAGA.’ ‘Who would write a rap incorporating Stanley Kubrick and Lady Di in the same sentence?! SO MUCH GAGA AMAZINGNESS.’
I loved the sledgehammer music you were chumming out (‘I know an Alejandro too, this must be fate!’), but the things you were chumming out in the press started to eat away at my love for you. The way you started calling yourself Mother Monster and referring to your precious fans as Little Monsters, kind of made me shiver in unpleasantness.
This was probably also because you started crying behind your piano, every time your monsters were screaming your name at your Monster Ball. The first few times it was cute, but now that little act is getting a little stale. We get it, you love all of your fans for making you rich and making you number 1 on that Forbes list but there comes a time where you just need to take the money and stop crying about it.
When you then decide to overbear your new single with an actual message, you inspired a new craze of ‘Born This Way’ tattoos. (As if the tribal tattoo craze wasn’t bad enough!?) I’m not doubting your intentions on voicing your carefully researched opinion on the nature/nurture debate, I just don’t think that urging a group of people to take on the identity you gave them (PUT YOUR PAWS UP!), actually helps people be themselves.
Also, you need to stop saying things like ‘You cannot destroy me. Because I am an art piece.’ That line lives next to ‘I’m tired of people not treating me like the gift that I am,’ and you don’t want to end up being Paula Abdul’s next door neighbour. (A pill addiction would make you actually LESS interesting.)
So although our personal relationship is in a state of flux I still can’t help but fall in love with those amazing pulsating techno beats you have collected on your new record. It makes me not want to quit you. It makes me want to love your persona once again. So spend a little less time preaching, and a little more time choosing the right singles (Scheiße next please!) and I’m sure we’ll be able to work things out.