Not so gaga over GaGa?

I have a feeling I don’t like Lady GaGa. This pains me, slightly, because I want to.

Up until recently, she’s only been vaguely irritating. Someone who bangs on about Andy Warhol (because, you know, no pop artist has ever done that) and talks about their ‘art’ (which is always sort of nauseating). That’s not to say I haven’t sung very loudly to her songs in the car and attempted to emulate a Poker Face-style dance move on a pub dance floor in front of a bewildered crowd. But. That aside.

See, I love what she wears. I loved her tea cup, her geisha mouth, I love her transparent jumpsuits and her blonde cone wig. I am not one to question the practicality of what she wears, because obviously people, she’s not wearing it to be practical. I don’t quite understand people who say ‘why would you wear a jumpsuit that’s transparent’ or ‘why doesn’t she wear pants?’ I think it’s all rather obvious she didn’t just forget to put pants on, or not notice her outfit is see-through, you’re not doing her a favour by pointing it out as you would if someone had toilet paper stuck to their shoe. The ‘what is she wearing’ type discussion is rendered sort of redundant by the fact she’s not so much wearing clothes as she is creations, deliberately designed and worn to shock, confuse and further construct a certain image. I’m cool with that. I love it all, even the headpiece she wore on Ellen, which greatly resembled the lovechild of a welder’s mask and a mid nineties tennis visor.

So, yes, I enjoy her tunes and I love her sartorial choices.

BUT.

Then she came to Australia, and became more than a vaguely irritating pop star who gave pithy (if ill informed) statements to the press about the return of the ‘super-fan’ (according to GaGa, the Jonas Brothers are responsible for the return of the super-fan, a term coined during Beatle mania. She seems to have forgotten the 90s and its slew of boy bands and fainting fan bases). She became genuinely annoying and uninteresting and I started having to turn off the radio when she was on it, because I got sick of hearing her talk in such a self conscious, self important manner.

And it niggled at me for a while, exactly what it was that was getting to me about this, by all appearances, talented, exciting artist. And then, like the epiphany I had when I was trying to figure out what it was about Cameron Diaz’s acting that annoyed me, despite liking Cameron Diaz rather a lot, it came to me. GaGa grates because she is just so hideously aware. And this conflicts greatly with the my-art-controls-me sort attitude she puts forward in interviews.

The impact on the pop cultural landscape she is trying to make, and arguably making (although we must not get ahead of ourselves in talking about legacies when the person in question has only been on the celebrity scene for 18 months) seems to be this carefully constructed one, the artistry and philosophy behind which, she must remind us of constantly. Now, I know all images are constructed, and none so more than GaGa’s. But I’m not talking about her physical image (which a lot of time and consideration goes into). I’m talking about her ‘fame is a philosophy image and I am a child of Andy Warhol image’ that she is so desperate to have us believe is the inspiration behind her ‘art’. I think that’s the image she’s trying to construct so carefully, one that precedes the peroxide wig/no pants one. And that’s what’s niggling, because it’s so damn self conscious.

She is almost attempting to create her own legend, not only by living and breathing her ‘art’, but by telling people that that’s what she does. Which, I suppose, many would argue, it very postmodern-celebrity. But I don’t like being told how to see you, or explicitly why you’re doing something. A huge part of art – whether it be musical, cinematic, literary, theatrical – is being presented with a concept, or an idea, or a production and interpreting it according to my position as the viewer. The name dropping and constant talk of your art reeks of a self importance you arguably have not earned.

And then there is the issue of originality, which I know is almost moot when it comes to popstars, because nothing is original anymore, but bear with me, I have a point. All artists borrow, it’s the name of the game. They reference predecessors and peers and, usually (or at least should) let that be known. We all know Christina Aguilera couldn’t quite bring herself to acknowledge her attempted comeback single and image may have had something to do with the success of the pop scene’s latest love, old GaGa herself. Anyway. One of GaGa’s recent fashion statements was a bubble dress, which she’s worn to perform in, and which inspired her recent cover of Rolling Stone. The thing is, the bubble dress was sent down the runway by a Japanese designer, not too long ago, and amidst the hullaballoo caused by GaGa wearing a very similar one, there hasn’t been one mention of where it most probably has its origins. Now, I don’t care if GaGa has seen that dress and it has inspired her own version. But I get a little uncomfortable when overt references to other people’s ‘art’ isn’t acknowledged by the one doing the referring. It detracts, somewhat, from all involved. The Cut has an interesting blurb on it here.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was an interview I watched where she felt compelled to tell the interviewer how complex she was. See, it’s always a shame when you have to tell someone how funny/clever/complex/interesting you are. Those sorts of things should technically speak for themselves. Yes it was a painful interviewer (why must they speak like that) and yes after endless interviews where people are asking you the same questions, you’re going to get snippy and wish they’d stop. But I can’t help but think that there were better ways to handle these inane questions (and I’m not even talking about her ‘what do you look for in a man’ response, as that a clear purpose in itself) ways that reinforce what you’re trying to put out there, ways that showcase the intellect behind your work. Or perhaps not.

I suppose what I am asking, really, is whether Lady GaGa is all she cracks herself up to be.

Sure, she can write a really good pop song. And she can sing. She can play the piano. She’s clearly very talented. She’s also committed to her image and, to her credit, she is clearly interested in the philosophy and history behind pop culture and its baby, fame. We can see it in her appearance and hear it in her music. That needs to speak for itself, and indeed does. So perhaps the solution is banning GaGa from giving interviews – and asking her to put a dollar in a swear jar every time she says Andy Warhol.