While not quite nirvana, there was a transcendence achieved as Lady Gaga provided the long expected “Bad Romance” for her encore at the TD Garden. As opening songs established a dance club atmosphere, including “Dance in the Dark” and “Boys, Boys, Boys,” Gaga continually built anticipation for her anthemic final song. It was a fitting close for an audience heavy in fishnets and leather, an audience ready to adore and be adored by Lady Gaga.
Mutual appreciation defined the evening. There was a give and take between crowd and performer that sustained the energy through two hours of supreme show(wo)manship. As Gaga explained, the concept of this tour was to “lock the doors and keep all the freaks outside.” Thus, her little monsters could entertain the wishes and whimsy that drive Lady Gaga without fear of being interrupted or judged.
I have only been to a few massive pop shows, most recently to see the Black Eyed Peas who also played TD Garden. The Peas win Grammys, produce save-the-world charity singles, and like to dance. But Lady Gaga deeply means something to the men and women who attend her show. As my pen and paper didn’t blend with the writhing fans who erupted for each song, strangers took note of my notes and leaned in to give unsolicited quotes about the show and Lady Gaga herself. These people wanted me to know, to feel, to acknowledge, just how special it was to witness and hear the Monster Ball.
In the car, it’s easy to switch off Lady Gaga. Live, she reaches out and asks for your approval, and lets you know that she approves of you. All of the clichéd concert lines--name checking the host city, thanking your fans, demanding arm movement from side-to-side--these all seemed fresh when spoken by Lady Gaga. Seriously, I believed her when she thanked folks for buying tickets to the show, claiming that no other pop singer will ever love her audience as much as she does. I even believed her when she said she would die if we did not scream enough for her. That she lived is a testament to the power of our screams.
As tropes for her relationship with the music industry, Lady Gaga’s two albums formed a loose narrative that structured the songs from The Fame and The Fame Monster. She described our “journey towards the greatest party on Earth,” as filled with many obstacles along the way. Yet, bad subway directions and a Wizard of Oz twister gave moments for Lady Gaga to confront issues of self-esteem and sexual identity. Imagine Oprah of the dance floor; only add a recreation of the “Lovegame” and “Alejandro” videos with their rampant S&M and religious imagery and you come somewhat close.
This sexuality is paradox for Lady Gaga’s image, a performer who earned much fame from transvestite rumors and whose lyrics offer explicit connotations. Gaga is sexual, but with an abundance of androgyny and haute couture fashion, it pushes beyond titillation. While wearing slinky bodysuits, or thigh high bondage boots, Gaga broods comfort rather than kinky. This was most evident when she played the piano for “You and I” and “Brown Eyes.” Her Bernie Taupin vibe, even when pounding the ivories with a pointed heel then holding an arabesque, casts Gaga as playful rather than vulgar with sexual expression.
Lady Gaga’s set closing numbers demonstrates the beauty and beast of her Monster Ball tour. Curtaining off the expansive and nightmarish Central Park main stage, Gaga gathered her male backing dancers for an intimate version of “Poker Face.” By shedding the spectacle demanded of a pop icon’s world tour, the song reveals the masterful simplicity of Gaga’s choreography and vocal delivery. In hyperbolic contrast, “Paparazzi” presents a giant Anglerfish whose tentacles threatened to envelop Gaga. She fears its luminous illicium, then hurls aspersions at it accompanied by sparkler flames shooting from her bikini; thus completes our path into the Monster Ball and our encore. “Bad Romance” took a while, but the journey was worthwhile for its garish exultation of artist and audience individuality.
