As she releases 'Born This Way', the woman who beat the bullies and conquered pop talks to Peter Robinson Time Out
‘I’m not interested in people positioning me next to other artists,’ announces the singer, sitting in a recording studio with Time Out. ‘I just want to make my music.’
A bold claim from someone who has appeared in public dressed in numerous decapitated Kermits, a gas mask, a gyroscope, a large lampshade, a massive egg and a dress made entirely of meat. And these looks have been hard to miss, because for the last three years, Lady Gaga has dominated pop’s field of vision in a way other artists with comparable sales have not.
She is the internet age’s first true pop phenomenon, but mo’ Twitter followers (she recently hit the ten million mark), mo’ problems. While no megastar in history has been able to connect with their audience so easily, nor has any been quite this easy to heckle. In February, Lady G's much-trumpeted big comeback single, ‘Born This Way’, was loudly criticised for sounding too much like Madonna; its successor, ‘Judas’, was rounded upon for being too much like, er, Lady Gaga.
‘It’s part of the whole internet culture,’ she declares. ‘People want you to fail. People want to tear me down, they were going to knife me anyway. The good news it that when they look back they’ll all remember how brave I was: “She put out a record about being yourself, and we crucified her for it, but she soared on and sat at Number One for six weeks and told everyone to FUCK OFF!” ’
It wasn’t ‘Born This Way’ that told everyone to fuck off. Earlier this month, with an album release looming, ‘Judas’ tumbling down the charts and the album’s artwork being widely derided, a miniature backlash seemed to be gathering pace. Then with little fanfare and no overhyped video, a song called ‘The Edge of Glory’ appeared on iTunes. It was supposed to be an album teaser, and Gaga’s label didn’t even take it to radio.
It hit Number One on iTunes around the world. It was a reminder that all those outfits would have counted for nothing if her first single, ‘Just Dance’, hadn’t been a little bit special, or if subsequent releases such as ‘Bad Romance’ hadn’t been pretty listenable to boot. Perhaps this is why Gaga, as she sits in front of me now, flicking through her iPod and blasting out tunes from her album, is so excited. She is certain she has made a brilliant album.
‘Maybe I’m out of my mind, but I believe the number of albums we’re going to sell is ridiculous,’ she says. She plays us a big-chorused but dark-as-you-like techno song called ‘Government Hooker’, which is about voters and plastic popstars who are happy to carry on doing what they do ‘as long as they continue to get fucked’. Then she plays ‘Hair’, which sounds like Bruce Springsteen at Eurovision, and explains that she wants the video to feature every wig she’s ever worn flying across the screen. ‘I’m not a sandwich store that only sells turkey sandwiches,’ she says. ‘I sell a lot of different things.’
‘I’m not interested in people positioning me next to other artists,’ announces the singer, sitting in a recording studio with Time Out. ‘I just want to make my music.’
A bold claim from someone who has appeared in public dressed in numerous decapitated Kermits, a gas mask, a gyroscope, a large lampshade, a massive egg and a dress made entirely of meat. And these looks have been hard to miss, because for the last three years, Lady Gaga has dominated pop’s field of vision in a way other artists with comparable sales have not.
She is the internet age’s first true pop phenomenon, but mo’ Twitter followers (she recently hit the ten million mark), mo’ problems. While no megastar in history has been able to connect with their audience so easily, nor has any been quite this easy to heckle. In February, Lady G's much-trumpeted big comeback single, ‘Born This Way’, was loudly criticised for sounding too much like Madonna; its successor, ‘Judas’, was rounded upon for being too much like, er, Lady Gaga.
‘It’s part of the whole internet culture,’ she declares. ‘People want you to fail. People want to tear me down, they were going to knife me anyway. The good news it that when they look back they’ll all remember how brave I was: “She put out a record about being yourself, and we crucified her for it, but she soared on and sat at Number One for six weeks and told everyone to FUCK OFF!” ’
It wasn’t ‘Born This Way’ that told everyone to fuck off. Earlier this month, with an album release looming, ‘Judas’ tumbling down the charts and the album’s artwork being widely derided, a miniature backlash seemed to be gathering pace. Then with little fanfare and no overhyped video, a song called ‘The Edge of Glory’ appeared on iTunes. It was supposed to be an album teaser, and Gaga’s label didn’t even take it to radio.
It hit Number One on iTunes around the world. It was a reminder that all those outfits would have counted for nothing if her first single, ‘Just Dance’, hadn’t been a little bit special, or if subsequent releases such as ‘Bad Romance’ hadn’t been pretty listenable to boot. Perhaps this is why Gaga, as she sits in front of me now, flicking through her iPod and blasting out tunes from her album, is so excited. She is certain she has made a brilliant album.
‘Maybe I’m out of my mind, but I believe the number of albums we’re going to sell is ridiculous,’ she says. She plays us a big-chorused but dark-as-you-like techno song called ‘Government Hooker’, which is about voters and plastic popstars who are happy to carry on doing what they do ‘as long as they continue to get fucked’. Then she plays ‘Hair’, which sounds like Bruce Springsteen at Eurovision, and explains that she wants the video to feature every wig she’s ever worn flying across the screen. ‘I’m not a sandwich store that only sells turkey sandwiches,’ she says. ‘I sell a lot of different things.’
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