Gaga – ooh la la!

Lady GaGa (Photo credit: ama_lia)

She’s crazy. At times irreverent. Undoubtedly avant-garde.Her fashion choices are off the wall and often get more publicity than her music or her message. She is aptly named Lady Gaga and she is the  biggest pop sensation in the world with over 31 million followers on Twitter. When someone that big comes to perform in South Africa – you go to the concert. And if you didn’t, here’s what you missed:

The set was elaborate – a multi-layered castle that shifted and changed throughout the performance; the dance routines were tight and infallible; the costumes were as extravagant as can be expected from a woman famed for wearing a dress made out of meat. And the performance… possibly too incredible to explain. From the most spectacular entrance atop a unicorn, to birthing herself, to the slickest costume changes and even showing a bit of ass, Mother Monster knows how to put on a show. I was expecting an extravaganza and I was far from disappointed. What was most impressive, and I’m sure the multitudes of South African little monsters will agree, was not the earth shattering theatrics of it all but rather the intimate, delicate moments. Behind the flamboyance of her as an icon charges forth the message of self-acceptance, freedom of expression and not giving a fuck. Whether you’re a card-carrying little monster or just someone who was just who happened upon tickets, it would be very hard to deny how genuine Lady Gaga is about her social footprint. She doesn’t just say that ‘there’s nothing wrong with loving who you are’ she lives it, she wears it in her outrageous wardrobe, you hear it in the tender growl of her voice when she all but tears up while engaging with her fans.

This woman is legit. A little gaga, (to borrow from Linda Woolverton’s Alice in Wonderland) mad, bonkers, off her head. But I’ll tell you a secret… All the best people are.

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let sleeping stars lie

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A great musical icon has recently kicked the bucket. And that is sad. What is even sadder is that whilst the woman’s body is barely cold, the media is already trying to open every bottle of worms they can find or fabricate on her. Whitney Houston is one of the greatest vocalist’s to have ever lived. She was beautiful, talented and troubled. Three things the media loves to find in a celeb , particularly post-mortem. Marilyn Monroe, Kurt Cobain,  Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse, Heath Ledger and now Whitney Houston. And in the same way that a media frenzy erupted when these talented powerhouses died, and the conspiracies and speculations surrounding their deaths spread like wildfire. Monroe was killed because of her relationship with JFK. Cobain was murdered. Jackson’s doctor is to blame. Winehouse was finally sober and the Illuminatti drugged her. Heath Ledger was killed by Scientologists. Houston was a lesbian and killed herself to escape the lies. Bla bla bla. Who cares? Why can’t we just afford the dead some respect, some of them who barely respected themselves? Why can’t we appreciate their legacy and be done with it.

 I consider myself to be quite the Elvis Presley fan. I consider him to be the King of Rock n Roll; I know that his career took a tacky sequined turn for the worst. He put on a lot of weight, took too many drugs and met his timely demise in the shitter. Stuff of fairytales, I tell you.  But his death doesn’t need to be anything more than it was. A  tragic end to the life of a beautiful, talented and troubled star. And when I think of Elvis, I remember him at his best and appreciate his legacy. So yes, who cares that the King was found in undignified circumstances, let his success override his lowest moments.

So back to the wonderful Whitney Houston. Was she an incredible talent, yes. Did her life, career, sobriety take the wrong road to nowhere, yes? But was she a card-carrying lesbian willing to end her life to escape the lies of her sexuality and public persona? I don’t know, but I also don’t really care. Whitney Houston may not have died with much dignity, but if she died with some secrets , I’m all for burying them along with her.

Die Antwoord vs Jack Parow and why Zef isn’t Ayoba

So one of  South Africa’s more successful exports was featured on The Letterman Show recently. ‘Whoop whoop, represent!”says I, because South Africa has a lot of talent and we deserve the international exposure , but when  I take a second and think of the case in point, the controversial rap duo, Die Antwoord, I cringe at the thought that they will be used as a benchmark or example of what South Africa has to offer. Especially because Die Antwoord is no more than a crude parody of a small sub-culture of the country.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they have a target market, a following, a league of trashy minions desperate enough for attention that they would see Die Antwoord as some kind of idol and struggle infinitely with Antie’s clippers to get their hair to look just like Yolandi Vi$$ers. but seriously, what  value has Zef music/”style”/trend have in the SA music scene.

Let me be clear also, that i have no predisposition against controversial behavior either. Elvis Presley was seen to be so controversial that he was only broadcast on television from the waist up. Eminem, who albeit crass, is a lyrical God. But i find no genius in being tacky and gimmicky and passing it off as creative expression. I am not impressed by recycled beats and wanna-be shock factor lyrics

My obvious comparison for the day is to appraise them alongside Jack Parow: Similar listenership; similar cultural, or rather sub-cultural referencing; both have infiltrated the South African music industry with a welcomed dose of Afrikaans rap and local flavours. But Jack Parow is not trash.  Jack Parow is not faking it for the fans, Jack Parow is authentic. And that’s why it works because Parow gives up not a parody of  ‘south african white trash’ publicity act but rather a familiarity. His song ‘Ek mis’ has got to strike a personal chord with more than quite a handful of folks.

I buy into his music – because although its unmistakably South African it doesn’t taste like stale recycled-rainbow-nation-this-is-africa-die bokke-en-a-braai nonsence nor does it reflect the country in a way other than it is. Jack Parow, as a good mate of mine commented today, has actual talent to back up the gimmick whereas Die Antwoord are left clinging to it.

Okay, so I’ve tried, I’ve given it some thought, I love local music, but when it comes to Die Antwoord, I think you’re freaky but I don’t like you so much.

Why I’m proud to be a Gleek

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The premise is simple: a group of high school misfits join an unpopular show-choir club and through following their passion to sing, make friends and find somewhere to belong. Sounds fairly humdrum and possibly cheesy, but the draw-card for me was, without a doubt, the music. The friend who suggested Glee to me described it as “ a show about kids in high school and their lives are basically a musical” and anyone who has ever appreciated Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s Season 6 Episode 7 “Once more with feeling” would be daft not to check it out. True entertainment superstars are sometimes called ‘triple threats’. These are the performers who can not only act, but also sing and dance. Glee features on-screen performance based musical treats and the performers have to be able to do it all. But the all singing, all dancing concept is one that is at risk of being camp and too showy. So then, why do I still proclaim to love Glee?  Because intertwined with punchy musical performances is a relevant storyline dealing with relationships, sexuality and social issues. But what wins me over, hook line and DVD box set is the music, because I am an ardent fan of cover versions of songs. A cover version, unlike a remix whose purpose is to better a song, is a rather a tribute, an ode. It says ‘I love this song as it is and this is my take on it’.

Glee’s creators have strived to maintain a balance between show tunes and current chart-toppers. Clever move if they want to please a larger demographic. Music taste is such a fickle bride to please. By doing cover songs of various genres, executed by young actors whose ambition matches those of their characters they produce fire. And notable success: The cast of Glee have had more songs chart than The Beatles and more Billboard hits than Elvis, showing that clearly the cast and creators of this show love the music and nothing can really detract from that.  From the Christmas classic ‘Baby, it’s cold outside’ made popular by big names such as Ella Fitzgerald, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr. and Ray Charles that gets a remake by a homosexual male pairing to episodes devoted to the likes of Britney Spears and Lady Gaga. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to mention the mash-ups! Mixing Beyonce’s ‘Halo’ with ‘Walking on Sunshine’ or a go-right-now-and-get-your-hands-on-this fusion between Rihanna’s ‘Umbrella and Gene Kelly’s 1929 ‘Singin’ in the Rain’.

Even with all the mastery of cover songs, Glee has in its second season introduced original music. I raise an eyebrow and wait to be either highly disappointed or thoroughly impressed, but so far so good. Every episode I watch leaves me wishing that it could have an encore. And I’ve already asked Santa to leave the Glee music box set under my tree. It’s fun and upbeat but still seamlessly full of social critique and debate.  It’s unabashedly light and gleeful.

Accurate title I guess.