The Lady Gaga Effect and the Last Gasp of Pop Music

Remember That Scene From "Alien"?

My Grandfather scoffed at The Beatles.

"What the hell are they doing with all that long hair?" he asked while my Mom and the rest of the family watched the lads from Liverpool perform on the Ed Sullivan show in 1963.

Obviously he was out of touch with the trends of the 1960s but then again he was 33 years old, a child of the depression and a die hard Hank Williams fan. He came from an era where men had short hair, Germans were called "Krauts" and the rest of the world fell in line thanks to society's rigid rules. So what if all John Lennon wanted to do was hold our hand? With hair like that you might as well not even lay a foot on his door step.

On the flip side, my Mom loved Paul the most.

"He was cute," she said. Simple as that.

Two people making a judgement on a band based on looks alone - funny thing is, it still hasn't changed.

Fast forward almost 50 years later and this same "old vs. new" generation debate is still going on, albeit in much more sloppier terms. Pop culture statements have moved past hair styles and morphed into something more gruesome and head-scratchingly bizarre.

Lady Gaga is the epitome of pop culture. Part Bowie, Madonna, Freddie Mercury, Britney Spears and bits and pieces of every genre in between, it seems as if the entire existent of pop music has built up to Gaga's very existence.

Her tunes are catchy and dance floor made, her sound is modernly retro, her fashion is outrageous yet pointless, her antics boggle the mind but endear her to her fans at the same time. She's a monster of music and a powerhouse of pop, but she's also bound to be the last great pop icon.

Where do we go from here? When a multi platinum selling artist gushes fake blood all over themselves at the VMAs, sets her lovers on fire while smoking a cigarette in her videos, vaguely exposes her breasts whenever she tries to make a fashion statement, yet still sells over 12 million records (a huge feat given the fact that no one buys music anymore) and gets her songs stuck in your head, how does someone else top it?

Gaga is the perfect balance of melody and mayhem. My friend Dave Beauchene, who contributes to The Hanging Tree, once said Lady Gaga is almost is if Britney Spears and Marilyn Manson had a kid. It's the perfect - and only - analogy that ever seems to work for her.

Those outside of the Gaga camp are taking notes and starting to emulate the weirdness to laughably lackluster results. Miley Cyrus is currently dressing up like a bird decked out in leather while proclaiming she "Can't Be Tamed" even though she's still a dog on a leash for Disney. Christina Aguilera's new album "Bionic" is filled with song after song of Gaga rip offs about electric sex. Sure Gaga may all be an act like Cryus' and Xtina's, but at least her act seems genuine (for the most part).

Neo-goth electric fuzz produced by young 20 something women is in. It's all of a sudden become the cool thing to see young girls proclaim their independence through the most slutted-out form of feminism you've ever seen. Ke$ha gives blowjobs on her way to the top, Rihanna gets beat in the face, Lady Gaga simply creeps us out. Pick your poison I suppose.

Sure the times might be good for young starlets, but I'm curious to see what will happen next. Is there only so much pointless weirdness we will take? Or are we made more and more desensitized and numb to the modern freak generation?

Lady Gaga has found the magic formula to the big time, yet she's destroying the old model simultaneously leaving us bewildered and pop left in shambles. Crazy for crazy's sake can only carry you so far. So get your kicks now, and dance one last time to the sound of popular culture slowly caving in on itself from the weight of its own extravagances and ambitions.

At least her hair looks cute right?

Tom Cruise and The Black Eyed Peas (The Conundrum)

You should call it Rappin' Impossible!

So in case you haven't heard (and are therefor woefully uninformed of important world events) Tom Cruise showed up at Black Eyed Peas concert very recently. Not to it; in it - on stage. Singing. For you to understand what a problem this posed my brain, try to imagine if you saw picture, on TV or something, of Ghandi launching manatees from a giant catapult, and it was proven to be real. I'm a Tom Cruise fan, with some degree of irony, yes (of course) but still - he's one of my favorite people to watch on film. And he was on stage with the Black Eyed Peas, the people who have single handedly made me avoid FM radio for the past 7 years.

How do these things happen? Oh, it doesn't help to consider it. Obviously Tom must be a fan enough to - I've learned- request the Peas make a special appearance on the soundtrack of his new movie. And of course this should denote that he make an appearance at one of their shows. Obviously, obviously. What I can't work out is how exactly to feel about it.

I've watched the videos, barely, through slits between my fingers. It is simultaneously the most emberassing and exciting thing I've seen all year. I mean, just imagine it. You're at a concert of, presumably, one of your favorite musical groups, jumping and singing along, when through a downpour of confetti appears some guy you've never...HOLY CRAP, TOM CRUISE! I'd have gone immediately and permenantly cross-eyed. In fact, if I ever become a platinum recording artist (in two or three years, I'd guess) I plan to get as many celebrity appearances in order as possible. Loads of them. Nick Nolte just eating cereal out on a catwalk. Joe Pesci on wires flying over the audience. The entire cast of Family Matters, in costume, dancing like crazy. Etc. But anyway.

Maybe you don't even like Tom Cruise. Not the point. Tom Cruise suddenly being front and center at a concert, performing, is...notable. If you do like him and you'd never in a million years go to that concert, it's...troubling. In an interview where Tom sat directly beside Peas frontman Will.I.Am, Cruise discussed his meeting with Will at the Super Bowl, and the brilliant comparisons he drew for him between his new movie Knight and Day and the music of the Black Eyed Peas. For instance: Knight and Day has a girl. Also, it has all the spirit of the Black Eyed Peas.

I won't go after the first one; we all say less than prestinely developed things on the spot. The second matter bothers me. The Black Eyed Peas have shown spirit in so far as producing some of the most awkward, stupid sounding music I've ever heard. Knight and Day, however potentially corny, clearly brings the goods, action wise. It's in order. Tom Cruise brings the goods. Even when he's in sub-fantastic films. Even if he doesn't know it. "I Gotta Feeling" is rubbish to the core. And yet Tom had no problem singing it to 30 thousand people, as he explained he'd sung it plenty at home - so he knew all the words. All six of them.

Ehhhh...

All of this reminds me of Bono's appearance with Jay-Z months back, where, in a sudden explosion of bolderity, Bono went into some kind of strangely timed, hugely emberassing rapping. Likewise, I'm a very big fan of this person, and likewise it is with a certain grain of salt. I know he can be utterly preposterous, but that's part of the fun. It's part of the fun to know that Tom Cruise probably believes he can do any stunt on any movie at any time - that he's Not down to earth, except in niceness. But now and then their excentricities go off cock-eyed, and I'm not sure I want to like them anymore. I'm not sure I can. Perhaps it's best to remember that even your favorite celebrities are incompotent dumbasses in some way or another.


By Dave Beauchene

Michael Jackson Museum Coming To Gary

A $300 million Michael Jackson museum and arts center could possibly break ground next year in the late performer's hometown of Gary, Indiana.

Michael's father, Joe Jackson, along with Gary officials announced plans for the facility which could potentially bring an estimated $100-$150 million, as well as new jobs, to the city.

Jackson visited Gary in 2003 to announce plans for the museum, yet nothing ever materialized before his death last year at the age of 50.

"This is a happy day for me because this is something that my family and Michael have always wanted," Joe Jackson said. "We're bringing something back."

Review: Christina Aguilera - Bionic

Cue the Lady Gaga impersonations. You would expect this kind of thing out of Rihanna and Miley Cyrus, who have already taken a crack at the Marilyn Manson / Catwoman outfits with techno tunes about being "fierce" or "independent" or whatever the current crop of pop divas are in to these days. But Christina Aguilera? Someone who was around when Clinton was still in office and Britney Spears's sister wasn't even an after thought - let alone a mother? Can we really take her seriously, after shape shifting from teen idol, to dirrrty girl, to jazz temptress? Can all this new leather and sadomasochistic tendencies, along with glitter synths and glitzy beats on her latest effort, Bionic, bring back the new car smell of a decade ago?


The answer, with a resounding thud, is no. Aguilera still likes to tease the boys with songs about getting drunk and kissing girls even at times forgoing the foreplay to simply demand the boys(z) to take their clothes off, but she does so while restricting her bombastic vocal styling. Always give Christina credit for having a set of pipes that helped her to stick out in the thick stew of late 90s teen acts. But here she buries her voice under gaudy amounts of techno and fuzz making her nothing more than a mediocre Gaga rip off at best.

The first half of the album is nothing but interchangeable and forgettable songs about good times, alcohol binges and orgies. Aguilera claims to be a prima dona on the song of the same name, but you can't help but laugh at the half assed attempt at "strong woman hood". The remaining segments of Bionic are sappy ballads filled with laughably cheesy ad libs and titles like "Sex For Breakfast" which features the classic line "When the morning comes I know I will too". Uh... yum?

Grade: D

Review: Jack Johnson - To The Sea

Hawaiian skies, crystal clear oceans, sand in your toes, Sex in the City themed drinks and banana pancakes, one can't blame former surfer Jack Johnson for being rock n roll's best beach bum. For close to a decade he's pumped out album after album about the joys of living it easy while chillaxin' in his favorite hammock. Just think of him as musical Tylenol for the Bush years.

Yet the time would come for Johnson to write songs for the 40 hour work week and the headaches of life away from the honeymoon. 2008's Sleep Through The Static was Johnson's first step in to the "terrible twos" as it were. The album was filled with songs of fear, war and violence, yet the music was too timid to really bring the edge it so desperately needed.

To The Sea is a more balanced effort come complete with tunes about love, growing pains and the occasional heartache. Johnson has ditched the beach for more tangible songs about fluttering hearts as well as the growing pains which come along for the ride.

With more realistic lyrics and electric guitar flourishes we've not yet heard from him, To The Sea is often times Johnon's most earnest and well rounded effort to date. Current single "You And Your Heart" features a subtle, and groundbreaking by his soft strumming standards, electric riff which works as a foundation for the piano and acoustic workings of previous songs. Sure the additions may be modest, but it's just enough to make it interesting - at least for a few listens.

Yet when there is feast, it's followed by famine. Almost the entire last third of the album is nothing more than rehashed fodder from records of yesteryear. But the worst part is the fact that Johnson seems to be failing at his own game. His melodies seem stunted and his musicianship light years beyond stale. Die hards and the Spicoli crowd may eat it up, but as always, it's a light meal that never satisfies.

Grade: C-

Key Tracks: "You And Your Heart" "At Or With Me" "Pictures Of People Taking Pictures"

Review: Janelle Monae - The ArchAndroid

Concept albums by there very definition are sprawling, often incomprehensible and bloated affairs. Sure the music is supposed to resonate with some kind of "human suffering" or any other interchangeable universal theme, but often times the only person who knows what they are singing about are the writers and composers themselves.


Everyone from The Beatles to Beyonce have put out their own conceptual pieces each to varying results. At times they are parody made (Meatloaf's Bat Out Of Hell), wonderfully disjoint (The Who's Quadrophenia) or incredibly biographical (Pink Floyd's The Wall). 


Yet the art of the concept album has dwindled along with the sales of CDs. People don't want to sit around while they dissect album artwork and song lyrics anymore. With most music being purchased through wi-fi connections and the essence of the "album" in it's traditional sense being lost, why make a concept most will never bother to look for anyway?


Janelle Monae, an up and comer from Kansas City, has made the first, and new model, for the concept album of the 21st century with her debut album The ArchAndroid. Ambitiously messy, uncompromisable and incomprehensible, yet completely earnest and memorable for it's encompassing musical landscape, Monae has made a landmark electro pop effort that shows Lady Gaga where to put her rhinestone breasticles.


The album is a blend OutKast freak-rap, Lauryn Hill soulful sorrows, Gnarls Barkley waling and Kubrick sci-fi adventures. Inspired by Fritz Lang's ground breaking 1927 film Metropolis, the record is an hour long tale about a messianic android who... ya know what, it doesn't matter. You'll never grasp what she's really trying to say beneath the glitter and shine of the production. At least Monae knows so and focuses on piecing together an album of one solid tune after another.


Almost every subgenre of R&B is experimented with and turned on its head to glorious results. Whether getting her freak on a la James Brown on "Tightrope", made all the more funky by an appearance from Big Boi,  visiting her Whitney Houston youth in "Locked Inside" or meshing Radiohead compressed vocals with Danger Mouse hypnotics on "Mushrooms and Roses", Monae zig zags from one musical pallet to the next in effortless fashion.


The music may be a bumpy ride for some and the lack of a singular musical vision may put off some critical purists, but what this 24 year-old songstress had done has pushed the bounds of what popular music is for the iPod generation. Miley may try to wear leather, Rhianna may look like Catwoman, and Gaga may be the best Marylin Manson rip off of all time, but Miss Monae has made an album that is greater than the sum of its parts. There is just enough of something for everyone to sink their teeth in to and keep them coming back for a more rewarding listen. Indie kids and Ke$ha fans are all welcomed.


While The ArchAndroid may go under the radar all year long, it's destined to become one of the defining pop albums for this decade. Much like Kid A dared to be great in 2000, Monae has already set the bar high for an arms race of powerful music and bad ass head wear.


Grade: A+


Key Tracks: "Locked Inside" "Cold War" "Wondaland"

Dio Funeral Picketed By Hate Church

Late metal vocalist Ronnie James Dio's funeral took place today in Los Angeles and was attended by members of Black Sabbath Queensryche as well as protested by members of the Westboro Baptist Church.

The church, located in Kansas City, has become famous over the past several years for the picketing of American soldier's funerals while carrying signs declaring "God Hates Fags" and "God Is America's Terrorist".

Founded by Fred Phelps in 1955, the church, mainly made up of Phelp's large family, declared Dio was a worshiper of Satan in part for creating the infamous "devil horn" hand gesture.

Dio's wife, and manager, Wendy issued the following statement in regards to the protest.

"Ronnie hates prejudice and violence. We need to turn the other cheek on these people that only know how to hate someone they don't know."

Dio passed away earlier this month at the age of 67 from stomach cancer.

Watch the video for Dio's most famous tune, "Holy Diver", below.