An abundance of controversy surrounds Gaga’s sophomore LP release, Born This Way. The album’s first eponymous single was the subject of an argument that the artist had exploited the homosexual world in order to promote her music. Subsequent release ‘Judas’ fared little better, with Catholic groups worldwide chastising the offering as nothing more than a cheap attempt to appear relevant. Unveiling the album’s artwork fuelled further criticism: the most poignant comment suggested the welding of Gaga to a motorbike was akin to a rejected ‘Terminator’ extra.
For a disc that has been touted “the greatest album of the decade”, this image leaves a great deal for the material to negate. Gaga is not ignorant of such a fact. Her album delivers on its promise of being packed full of “sledgehammering dance beats”. Yet she manages to weave quite an intricate and delicate mix of social issues into her album nonetheless. The artist sings out in support of feminism, of gay rights, of romance (bad, or otherwise). Despite its party beat, the album’s message is to be true to oneself.
This is hammered home throughout. Opener ‘Marry The Night’, begins “I won’t give up on my life: I’m a warrior queen, live passionately tonight”. Its sombre start of organ chords highlights that this is an album of serious matter, regardless of how quickly these notes fade into a synth extravaganza that climaxes with an ever faster tempo. Single releases ‘Born This Way’ and ‘Judas’ follow in succession. Already, the album has set up stall as a fist-pumping anthem of self-loving and self-respect.
“I wanted people to know that I really made a record” said Gaga when introducing the iTunes countdown to the release. Promotional singles have come thick and fast in the immediate pre-release period and these have noted the new directions of the artist. With such a plethora of influences, Gaga’s main challenge in this album was always going to be striking a balance that made the album flow neatly. “I wanted people to know that it was something that needed to be heard in its entirety.” Indeed, there is something much more rewarding from a complete listen: We journey through insecurity, to thanking all those who have been part of our lives, and all the Judas, Americanos and Bad Kids in between. These aren’t simply Gaga’s influences: it’s an album that is adaptable to all its audience.
Reinforcing such an ethos, Gaga picks at her varied and diverse fan base. ‘Americano’, a Spanish guitar track with flamenco flare, tackles forbidden love and immigration laws in one sophisticated swoop. Elsewhere, ‘Scheiβe’ infuses house and techno as an album highlight, yet tells women to respect themselves; you don’t need to speak German to “fight for your rights” and stop the… inequality. Rock-led ‘Bad Kids’ talks to every apathetic teenager in search of identity: “I’m a bitch”, “I’m a jerk”. There is a certain lavishness in Gaga’s creativity: she is sassy and silly on the one hand, warbling to be “your hooker” and “as free as my hair”, and yet these indulgent metaphors are belted out with true feel and emotion, as well as being the most innovative expression tacts in twenty-first century pop. After all, in a cultural sense, Gaga proclaims herself to “just speak in future tense”.
When Gaga eventually slows her juggernaut for some evanescent melodies, their fragility is far from ballad relaxation. In fact, the album continues its dependence on synth-electronic revival. This is by no means detractive from the impact of the songs themselves: ‘Heavy Metal Lover’ is a smooth critique on fast lifestyles, and so the juxtaposition between subject matter and tempo creates a sensuous backdrop before which the sexual whims of washing a pony down are played out against fantasies of ruling the world. Again, Gaga masters the euphemism in a way that sees her graduate stylistically from simply “bluffin’ with her muffin”.
‘You and I’ is a sumptuous charting of “lonely nights and lipstick on your face”, with a piano lead incorporating a sample from none other than Queen’s ‘We Will Rock You’ (a subversive reinforcing of the greatest album motto?), whilst ‘The Edge of Glory’ declares “we’re on the edge of something final we call life”. Gaga does not hesitate to reinforce the image of transcendence, and it is to her credit. “Put on your shades, cause I’ll be dancing in the flames”: she appears to purify herself at the end of an album full of blasphemy and dizzying pop synths, whilst adding an injection of jazz sax that is ever so refreshing.
Nonetheless, there is room for lyrical improvement. For all Gaga’s party pumping beats, there are few phrases that make a profound impact. As is often the case with tracks whose base is a party atmosphere, everything is quick, loud and explicit. Gaga manages this aspect well: where there could have been loss of focus, she remains succinct and to the point. However, in her straight talking, there is often a lack of an inspirational word or two: “I’m living on the edge of the law” and “Don’t be a drag, just be a queen” appear somewhat cliché additions to the artist’s resume. Maybe to be too deep is to miss the point, however. “This album is for you” reads the inlay: everyone is able to take away their own interpretation of the lyrics. And with tracks such as ‘Judas’ and ‘Scheiβe’ on the setlist, there is definite room for metaphor: after all ‘Hair’ is merely “surrealist extentionism” (get it, extensions… hair? Oh, that Gaga!)
Ultimately, it is Gaga’s creativity that detracts from the album. Due to a lack of self-reflection, no soft ballad, it appears that despite so many of the lyrical nuances pointing to an album of ordinary pop, the generic has been overlooked. Sometimes, the mainstream just wants a neat slice of pop music: after all that’s why it is called mainstream. No doubt a balance difficult to obtain, Lady Gaga has captured her flare, but failed to capitalise and exploit the pop genre as fully as one may have anticipated.
Greatest album of the decade then? Simply, no. There is a great deal to praise about Born This Way, and it is most definitely one of the most exciting listens of the year due to its relentless energy and topical approach to music. Indeed, it is an album that should be heard in its entirety (and by entirety, the expanded edition is implied). Unfortunately in its attempts to achieve pure pop status, it overreaches itself. Perhaps this is not how it would be received on G.O.A.T. and maybe in that alien territory of boundless freedom, such an album would be the mother monster of LPs: for it evokes and oozes an ethos of freedom for each and every person throughout. However, in spite of Born This Way’s flaws, Gaga is certainly on the right track and the offering sees her quite literally on the edge of (musical) glory.