Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m on the Gaga train. I can’t help it. The beats are infectious. They worm their way into your brain and cling like some . . . brain sucking monster thing that insists you get into the bathtub/car/office/kitchen/etc scream singing CAN’T READ MY CAN’T READ MY NO HE CAN’T READ MY POKER FACE (SHE’S GOT TO LOVE NOBODY).
I don’t want to like her. I mean, LOOK at her. She wears squirrels glued to her head and neon orange tights and calls it high fashion. I call it one step up from rolling around in a yard sale and seeing what you look like in the end, but . . . but it works for her. I actually find myself buying into the whole “I’m not a musician, I’m a performance artist” thing. I liken her to the Warhol of music.
Anywho, another music dump as it seems to be the thing I enjoy doing most these days. More stuffs. LISTEN PLZ.