Lollapalooza 2010: Lady Gaga / by Doyle Armbrust

When an unfathomable number of little digital camera screens transform the August night sky several shades lighter, held aloft both by young hands and those a bit more weathered, it's time to acknowledge that this is no ordinary Lolla headliner. There are those of a certain disposition who have managed to remain happily ignorant of the goings-on of Gaga, save the occasional strain of "Bad Romance" escaping a car window, and I am of that disposition. Heading south of Buckingham fountain with little more than a long-standing leeriness of anything referred to as a "phenomenon," this Gaga-Noob was about to learn a few things:

1. This is not a pop music show, and Lady Gaga is not a pop star. This is performance art cabaret, sexed up with a dose of burlesque. Pop stars have songs written for them by actual musicians, learn some choreography, how to lip-sync to a backing track, and then spend the rest of the time shooting magazine covers. After opening with "Dance in the Dark" from behind a half-moon scrim, her silhouette all shoulder pads and toned stems, Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta launched into "Beautiful, Dirty, Rich" by throwing open the hood of a full-scale, zombified Mad Max sedan to reveal and hammer its keyboard engine. We are at the Monster Ball, Gaga tells us, flanked by her Grace-Jones-does-S&M sidekick, Posh, "where the freaks are outside...and we locked the fucking door!" This is a bizarre fashion spectacle and a torrid dance revue, all taking place at a David Bowie-style scenester party with a glam-dance soundtrack...and holy shit, Grace Jones is striking Rocky Horror poses!

2. Gaga's magnetism is multi-generational. Mason, the affable Vampire Weekend t-shirt-wearing 13-year-old to my left told me that he was here for Black Keys and Matt & Kim, but all indie rock emotional reserve was quickly jettisoned when "I'm a free bitch" began cycling through the speakers. To my right, Susan, a very youthful-looking 50-something that had driven in from St. Charles excitedly told me "There's something about her music...it's like I'm addicted to it!"

3. The Lady can play. Whether gripping a Dalek-inspired keytar high above the stage during "Money Honey," or belting out her ballad "to all the drunk assholes in her life" (her favorite being her father), it's clear that the singer has chops. She may have a patent-leather thigh-high heel thrown up alongside the keyboard as she croons, but the approach to the keys is decidedly that of someone who plays, well, legit. Even the outro of "You and I," the bass line accompanied by jazzy chord clusters tapped out exclusively with the toe of Gaga's boot was compelling.

4. The look maybe be NSFW, but the message is crucial. Shouting lines like "Hey Jesus, you're the sexiest guy on the wall!" Lady Gaga won't be winning over the Rick Warren/Pat Robertson/James Dobson brigade any time soon, but the singer is helping to positively shape public opinion of the LGBT community. It gets tedious, hearing multiple times that she was made fun of in school, and the audience banter teeters on the edge of motivational speaking, but Gaga is at her most erudite when speaking out about issues of sexuality. The Mötley Crüe–inspired number had more crotch grabs than a locker room jock-itch outbreak, and the effusive lead guitarist looked as though he may have just come off the Thunder From Down Under tour, but it's clear that the gay icon is systematically nuking preconceptions of both bi/homosexuality and categorization.

5. The music isn't the point. The monster stomp of "Teeth" is Broadway-ready, but the entirety of the rest of the set would be little more than Miami Beach nightclub anthems if stripped of the mayhem of androgynous dancers, Phillipe Starke-meets-Fraggle-Rock costumes (see 2nd set), and the occasional clever turn of phrase. Watching one of the best signers I've ever seen at a rock concert passionately translating lyrics for the hearing disabled, it occurred to me that the glossy soundtrack is mostly secondary to the wonderfully grotesque theatre of bloody chests and body heaving taking place on stage. Whatever your feeling about the music, there's no denying we saw something spectacular tonight.

- Doyle Armbrust

published in the Time Out Chicago #Chicago Blog on August 7th, 2010