But exactly 30 seconds in, the first chorus turns the volume up to 11 and the song never relents. There’s barely room to breathe, for the singer or the listener. When the song runs out of choruses less than two minutes in, it even resorts to the dreaded truck driver’s key change. Gaga belts the title over and over like a mantra but it never becomes any more profound. The real Perfect Illusion isn’t love; it’s a blank metaphor her voice tries and fails to imbue with meaning.
The song aspires to the heartbreak and triumph of a classic disco record. But Gaga lacks the grace of a true disco diva. Donna Summer, Diana Ross, Gloria Gaynor – their voices were smooth, not jagged. Nor is there any sense of camp, or a knowing wink, to defuse the tension – no, Gaga’s deathly serious. At its most transcendent, disco was about dancing joyfully through your tears. Perfect Illusion sounds more like heaving sobs, flailing about in search of a melody.
Lady Gaga has spent the last three years proving she can sing. But in her quest to overwhelm us with her vocal talent, she’s under-delivered with her songwriting.
Pop music exists in the present; you’re only as good as your last single. So bring on the next reinvention – the sooner the better.
https://www.theguardian.com/music/20...ch-of-a-melody
