I thought I could resist. over-styled (but magnificently so), over-hyped (but who isn't in an era of internet buzz?) and overly keen to be seen as unique but of course we know this isn't true. Her initially Gwen Stefani-esque aesthetic tarted up with some Bowie-style lightening bolts and 1970/80s-themed homemade couture and grandiose stage name initially led me to believe that she would be more unorthodox in her musical style. Imagine my surprise then to find backing dancers, synchronised routines, sexy skin flashing and radio-friendly poppy hooks. Sure it was exquisitely polished with a fabulously-styled exterior, but she's no subversive musical oddity. Of course, she shouldn't have to be, but I can't help but feel that her image demands she be seen as such.
And so I tried to resist, determined not to get sucked in by the hype machine, but Just Dance, her debut, chart-blazing single, is a force to be reckoned with. Its simple but relentless hook, grimy keyboards and funky electro beat make in an irresistible feel-good, night out delight. Her follow up, Poker Face most definitely follows the same blueprint but with a more outright Britney-style pop chorus in contrast with the stomping, strutting card-game innuendo-laced verses. There's also a cheeky attempt at rapping that feels dangerously close to Fergie ('I'm bluffin' with my muffin') but she just about gets away with it.
The rest of the album never quite reaches the same furiously addictive heights. In terms of up-tempo, high energy dance tunes there's the synthy LoveGame with its strong beat but crude lyrics and lazy rhymes, there's also this nagging feeling that it sounds like a reject from Gwen Stefani's Sweet Escape album. More successful are Beautiful Dirty Rich; a smoky, decadent, slinking beat-driven semi-rapped mid-tempo delivered with relish; and Money Honey, a bassy, attitude-packed slice of funk in a similar vein to Just Dance. Elsewhere title-track, The Fame (which has a touch of Faster Kill Pussycat about its intro), is a catchy marriage of guitar and electronica-lite while Boys Boys Boys and Somerboy are flirty eighties electro confections with a frothy choruses.
There are also more honest moments when the retro cool shades come off and the Gaga moniker is dropped for a glimpse behind the glamour, most notably Again, Again. It's a departure from the usual preening electro-pop with rawer, rockier tale of frustration set a forceful piano riff with punchy drums and guitar. However, both this track and Brown Eyes do feel a little at odds with the rest of the style over substance synth-based stomp that's on offer here, despite providing some welcome depth (though the difference isn't much more than the depth of a pothole when compared to, say, a puddle). A decidedly more mawkish attempt at sentimentality is Eh, Eh which could literally be released by any teeny bopper popstrel. It's a soft, plinking love song that's bland and radio-friendly to a level of pandering. A more successful take on a softer side is Paparazzi, a mid-tempo love song set to a 'paps seek celebs' metaphor with the bombast and drama of the confident, spiky verses melting pleasingly into a syrupy chorus.
Lyrically GaGa's got one track mind with one theme of fame, riches and glamour being loosely touched upon throughout and the results are generally as vapid as one would expect but rarely intrusive. There's nothing profound, earth-shattering or even clever to be found amongst the funky beats and dirty electro snarl. GaGa's vocals, meanwhile, convey attitude, flirtation, sweetness and a little angst whenever is appropriate without ever really being challenged. And so, in the end, The Fame is worth a listen for a rather strong selection of catchy, danceable electro pop tunes with a veneer so glossy you could check your hair in it but it just don't expect it to deliver upon the promise of its avante garde exterior. Because, when all is said and done, GaGa is just your average wannabe pop princess with delusions of grandeur that she can't quite live up to. Having said that, there's no denying that this girl can pen a memorable hook and grab your attention on the dance floor, just don't expect anything here to truly resonate with you once you've hung up your discostick for the night.
EDIT: So it turns out I've reviewed the Original Edition as apposed to the UK&Ireland Edition which includes all the above mentioned tracks as well as three new additions. First off there's the rather forgettable and utterly generic Starstruck which opens with the Gagster spewing yet more nonsense in her robotic drawl and proceeding to spout gibberish throughout. It features a passably catchy chorus (GaGa giveth) as well a tiresome rap cameo (GaGa taketh away). This is followed by the half-baked Paper Gangsta with its mind-numbing chorus that seems to retract her previous statements regarding her desire for all things fabulous (it also claims that she doesn't want some flash faker, erm, pot, kettle, black?) and finally there's the I Like it Rough which is nothing more than yet another serviceable synth-laden electro jam (anyone hoping for a sudden daliance with acid jazz, new age or bluegrass will be disappointed). Give it a rest woman and leave things as they are instead of bloating what was a consistently strong tracklisting with more of the same only weaker. If too much of a good thing is possible then too much of the same basic things rejiggered 15 times is certainly possible, this is one for hardcore GaGa-ites only.
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