Lady Gaga is back with “MAYHEM”– Kind Of

Graphic by Maddie Cohen

by bennett himmel

Does Lady Gaga really need an introduction? Over the last two decades, Gaga has transformed herself from an aspiring pop star to one of the most well-known names in showbiz. She has an Oscar, six chart-topping albums, and a legion of devoted fans to whom she is not just a musician, but a philanthropist, fighting for the rights of the little gay boys who watched with wide eyes as she poisoned an entire diner with Beyoncé. It’s quite easy to dismiss pop stars of her stature as more concept than person, but that’s always been part of the appeal with Gaga. For the first leg of her career, every Gaga release was paired with interviews in which she would spout complete nonsense while still coming off as charismatic, insane outfits, and pretty reliably amazing music videos. (If you’re wondering which Gaga video changed my little gay life, it was “Marry The Night”). Gaga’s first four albums were complete knockouts; The Bowie-by-way-of-Madonna of her debut The Fame; The murky, spooky, sexy The Fame Monster; The brash mix of glam rock and pummelling electronics of Born This Way; and the gonzo EDM of ARTPOP. Each of these albums added something new to the pop music canon, shaping the sound of the mainstream while the aesthetics and philosophies behind the albums redefined our relationship with celebrity.

The problem is that after ARTPOP got lukewarm reviews and slightly worse sales, Gaga kind of became…not bad, but boring. Her 2016 album Joanne completely dropped the theatrics, taking a sharp left turn into pop-rock that your mom probably loved. The album is not without its gems (I’m very partial to the Ace Of Base-inspired groove of “Dancin’ In Circles”), but I also have war flashbacks whenever I hear the overly polished melancholy of “Million Reasons.” The follow-up, 2020’s Chromatica was certainly better, but the 90’s house-inflected production felt paper thin, the lyrics were far less interesting, and the entire era just felt…dull. In Gaga’s defense, I’m sure many plans for the album were stunted by COVID-19, and there absolutely are some bangers on the album, but it ranks low in many fans’ rankings. 

Thankfully, something interesting started happening near the tail end of last year. Gaga became…kind of amazing again. She released a staggeringly successful collaboration with Bruno Mars, sure, but her first real pop single in almost five years, “Disease,” was killer. It brought back the chugging, punishing electronics of some of the best songs from Born This Way, but with an improved vocal performance and a killer chorus. The follow-up, “Abracadabra,” was even better: a true return to all of the things that made Gaga so amazing in 2010, rebooted and remodeled for the 2020s. When I watched the video premiere during the Grammys, I involuntarily squealed no less than seven times: WE LOVE HER AGAIN! There was lots of talk of reheating nachos, which I am so desperate to not write about, so I implore you to Google it, but the main topic of discussion was: “Is the old Gaga back?”

Fans who come to Gaga’s seventh studio album, titled MAYHEM, anticipating a full return to the dark electronic pop of her early work will for the most part be disappointed. The first four tracks on this thing are nothing short of insane; the kind of run that completely stops you in your tracks. “Garden Of Eden” is reminiscent of The Fame, but somehow even campier. “Perfect Celebrity” is something entirely new for Gaga, an electro-grunge record that reckons with the separation between pop star and person. The song works as the thesis statement for her career. “I’ve become a notorious being / Find my clone, she’s asleep on the ceiling,” she growls. It’s haunting and ranks as one of her best songs to date.

The rest of MAYHEM, however, operates in a much lighter, groovier, funkier space. The Gesaffelstein collab “Killah” reminds me so much of Daddy’s Home-era St. Vincent, but completely off the walls. Gaga gives a demented vocal performance on the verses, while the chorus bleeds pure sex. When she lets out an animalistic shriek after the guitar freakout in the song’s final third, you find yourself desperate for a full Gaga funk album. There’s also the disco delicacy “Zombieboy,” which is ridiculously fun if maybe a little too campy, even for Gaga. “Don’t Call Tonight” is a pretty enjoyable piece of 80’s worship, with an anthemic chorus reminiscent of Pat Benatar that I’ve found myself singing around the house all this week. 

Yet after these tracks, MAYHEM starts to fall apart a little bit. “How Bad Do U Want Me” is pleasant, but it commits a cardinal sin for Gaga: sounding like someone else. The song is reminiscent of something off of a recent Taylor Swift album (although Gaga can obviously still sing circles around Taylor). It drags and the Jack Antonoff-lite production feels completely incongruous with the analog, funky sound of the overall record. The latter half of the album is just unfortunately nowhere near as strong as the first. All of the songs are completely competent (though I still hate “Die With A Smile”), but they feel much less urgent than the earlier songs. Where songs like “LoveDrug” and “Vanish Into You” are huge solely because of Gaga’s irrepressible star power, the admittedly chaotically horny “The Beast” tries too hard to reach the same highs with its trunk-shaking bass and howls to “TURN ON THE MUSIIICCC!”

The problem with MAYHEM isn’t that it’s not a “dark pop” record as many had hoped. I would never criticize an album for not pretending to be something it’s not. As an 80s-funk-inspired dance-pop record, MAYHEM is incredibly competent. The songs pretty much universally bang and beg to be sung along to at the club. But the album, for the most part, lacks that true Gaga freakiness that I adored her for when I was younger. We all know Gaga is capable of writing a great pop hook–she’s been doing it for almost as long as I’ve been alive. While MAYHEM is easily Gaga’s best and riskiest album in over a decade, it is still a far cry from the true weirdness she was dealing in on her earlier records. MAYHEM will no doubt be one of my most-played records of the year– nearly every song has grown on me since first listen, and “Abracadabra” and “Perfect Celebrity” rank among some of the best Lady Gaga songs, period. But with a title like MAYHEM, you would hope for a bit more chaos.