Lady GaGa - 'Bad Romance'
Lady GaGa does not care if you like her or not. Lady GaGa does not care if I like her or not. Lady GaGa does not care for approval, what Lady GaGa wants is your attention, your bewilderment, your awe. Do not get all mushy on Lady GaGa, or she will beat you.*
Lady GaGa's songs do not exist to please you, why should they? You have to look after yourself when you enter Lady GaGa's world, and if you do not, you may find yourself impaled on a spike. The spike could be made of latex or rubber or stainless steel or shiny plastic or even human hair, but it will hurt like hell and the inevitable pool of blood will make a mess.
Lady GaGa does not appreciate mess, unless it has been made by Lady GaGa.
(Can't show you the video, but it's astonishingly good, in a PEOPLE SHOULD DO THIS MORE OFTEN sort of a way)
So, even though I am clearly going to have to dip into my little bag of superlatives for this astonishing song, even though the ChartBlog official view of Lady GaGa and her work has had to shift slightly from "good pop star, 'Poker Face' is great, but..." to "WE ARE TRULY BLESSED TO BE LIVING IN THE TIME OF GA", and even though this overshadows the bulk of music released in a year which has seen some astonishing pop barge to the top of the charts...
...the simple fact of the matter is whatever anyone has to say on the topic is just a tiny, frail childlike hand waving at the massive juGaGanaut which is steamrollering over the entire world.
The amazing thing is that even though all of the above is true, there's still a bleeding, fragile beating heart at the core of this song which anyone can relate to. A song which is about a failing, obsessional kind of passion for someone who is clearly bad news. And it's a passion which is strong enough to reduce GaGa to gibbering nonsense syllables, and speaking in tongues (assuming French counts, of course). These are the best bits of the song, naturally:
"ra ra ah ha ha, roma roma mah..."
It all comes together on the chorus, which arrives like a calming beam of light from on high in the middle of a psychotic episode. All the gibbering and purring falls away and she's left pleading with the object of her desire, while knowing she is doomed to failure. Love has taken her into some new and strange terrain, leaving her lost and scared, and at the mercy of the locals.
Still, now she knows how the rest of us feel. Spike bandage, anyone?
* She will not beat you.