CD Review: Lady Gaga – “Chromatica” (2020)

Just when you thought that Lady Gaga had mellowed out, 2020 came blasting down the door with her in a neon-pink Power Rangers-esque outfit with a hearty laugh and a “NOPE!” Everyone likes to think that they have her pegged, that she’s revealing her hand, and that we can predict where things go. When we thought she would go off the deep end following “Artpop,” she pivots to a Tony Bennett album of standards. When we thought that she would spend her acting career stalled out as Robert Rodriguez’s ingénue, she goes and receives the Best Actress Oscar nomination (and a Best Original Song win) for A Star is Born (2018).

You can think that you have Lady Gaga figured out, but the reality is that nobody does. I’m not even sure that she knows. It feels like she reaches New Year’s and plans out how she is going to make every year special. One year will be winning an Oscar, the next will be making a “return to form” album with “Chromatica,” which finds her returning to her dance floor roots to albums like “The Fame,” where everything is stripped back to its basic core and allows her to let the freak flag fly. 

Just because her previous studio album, “Joanne,” was a more conventional pop record doesn’t mean that she’s committed to the new vision. Just because it’s been six years since she’s shown a significant dose of weirdness doesn’t mean that it isn’t inside of her. She’s just been recharging her batteries, doing everything to make the return feel more triumphant by proving how much she’s capable of. In those six years, she has gone from sideshow freak to the main attraction, and now that she’s back to her most passionate interest, she’s bringing a whole lot of insight into how she makes music.

With her last bawdy album “Artpop,” she received criticism for making a concept album about consumerism as a lifestyle, where she openly admitted that nothing mattered. It’s not the type of message for a pop star to rest their career on, and she was on the verge of tanking under self-parody. With years of personal experiences now under her belt, she returns with strength and wisdom, pushing aside the artifice in favor of finding ways to make pop more personal, where to step onto the dance floor will be to unleash your traumas through catchy hooks, flashing lights, and the most ribald set of songs since Lady Gaga admitted she has sensual fantasies about statues.

It may not seem that way because of one reason: Lady Gaga is a character who has an inability to exist in our world for too long without reminding us that she’s alien. This is especially true on this album. As she puts it:

"I live on Chromatica, that is where I live. I went into my frame. I found Earth, I deleted it. Earth is canceled. I live on Chromatica."

In a more serious sense, the album is about color and tones, reflective in how the album is separated into three sections by tracks labeled like “Chromatica I,” which serve as orchestral overtures to the next portion of this story. In theory there isn’t a fluent story throughout these tracks, just themes that bring themselves to light as they grow from the eccentric into something more personal. Even if we’re stuck in a familiar state of bombast, it has an energy that Lady Gaga has been lacking for so long that you’d think she’ll grow spastic from overstretching her vocal cords.

This becomes immediately true when dealing with the first song “Alice,” which borrows heavily from the Lewis Carroll classic novel. Much like his adventures through the looking glass, this is Lady Gaga preparing to throw us down the rabbit hole, into her new world where everything is bright and eccentric. It’s the type of hand-holding that we need after years of thinking that she was going prestige, giving up on those ridiculous roots that defined her early career. Instead, she welcomes us to her Wonderland, Chromatica as it were, and encourages us to dance the night away:

Sick and tired of waking up

Screaming at the top of my lungs

Think I might've just left myself behind

Maestro, play me your symphony

I will listen to anything

Take me on a trip, DJ, free my mind

While the music as a whole is upbeat and will get the crowd moving, it’s the choruses that deliver the highlights of “Chromatica.” It isn’t just that the electro-pop melodies bang with an intensity that will jolt your quarantined soul back to life, it’s that Lady Gaga reminds us of one truth: no matter how ridiculous the premise, she has been a great singer. As she hits the high notes on “My name isn’t Alice,” we’re reminded of how easy it would be to just dance to a vocal track of her charismatic turn, which will continue its flamboyance throughout the entire album, even featuring more sing-talk aspects that allow her to go deep.

The one thing that should be noted is that if you’re going to pop on a Lady Gaga dance floor record, it’s going to be flamboyant. There’s so much that requires you to give in to the impulse, not thinking too hard about how hollow the lyrics of “Stupid Love” are (it’s practically in the title). You just have to give in to the jerky repetition and get move in. This is about the power of music, where it transcends reason and latches onto the feelings we have inside, too repressed to be expressed without being laughed at. 

Lady Gaga will be the first to tell you that you should just be yourself, and watching the music video for “Stupid Love” will prove this immediately. It was the first peek into the fictional Chromatica, and features a contrived plot of colors fighting each other in the desert. The second single, “Rain on Me” is far more effective in capturing the bright-colored aesthetic and mixing in some enjoyable pop beats, thanks in part to guest vocalist Ariana Grande. Still, these songs feel generic, meant for Top 40 hocking compared to what’s around the corner.

With “Free Woman,” the album begins to develop a more personal tone, moving from the pitch meeting into something more substantial, where we’re seeing the Lady Gaga who has developed more of a personal side, willing to put down the gimmick long enough to remind us that she’s human:

This is my dance floor I fought for

A heart, that's what I'm livin' for

So light up my body and kiss me too hardly

We own the downtown, hear our sound

More than any other album in her career, this is one that feels self-referential, bringing a fuller picture of who she thinks she is in 2020. Life started on the dance floor, and her choice to comment on the fame and paparazzi reflects a more mature perspective, giving her early naïve perspective some depth, finding emotion in moments that had been written off as vapid. It’s also a declaration that no matter how much she evolves, she will never be above expressing herself through dance music. She has fought for this floor, and in the process becomes an icon of the genre. This is merely a celebration of her efforts.

When entering “Chromatica II,” it’s interesting to compare the satirical lens of the personal to similar techniques on “Artpop.” Whereas the 2013 album found her commenting on sexual assault through elaborate pig metaphors (“Swine”), it was placed around a vapid context that made her equally meaningful “Dope” sound, ahem, dopey. These were honest reflections of her identity, but the metaphor felt like it distracted from a bigger point. 

With songs like the “Chromatica” track “911,” she returns to the personal well of emotion, but her ability to be more earnest keeps the metaphor from becoming too tired. You get the sense that these are personal stories instead of abstract portraits of an idea. It helps that the overall production is better, having a fun chorus that makes a muted repetition of 9-1-1 into one of the album’s best moments. Like “Fun Tonight,” there is this quest to find a reason to dance when there is so much emotional struggle inside of you, wishing to just hide in a corner and ignore the world. It’s a perspective of an artist who knows the pressure to entertain at all costs but needs to address her own self-awareness first.

That is what’s most satisfying about “Chromatica.” Even as things become wilder, going into full-on camp, there is this catharsis happening lyrically in the central portion that gives you something special for a Lady Gaga album. There is this confessional sense that she’s being honest with the public without sacrificing her over-the-top absurdity. There is an honesty this time around that she didn’t have on “Artpop,” and it makes it substantially more interesting.

One of the greatest moments comes in “Plastic Doll,” which continues the metaphor through dance songs as she comments on the image that she’s created:

I’ve lived in a pink box so long

I am top shelf, they built me strong

Am I your type? Am I your type?

Suddenly the flashiness that she’s displayed publicly over the past 12 years feels more complex, realizing that there’s a human underneath. As the song progresses, she uses the plastic doll imagery to reflect how she’s been altered by the public and media, not quite feeling like a real person after a certain point. Even if the premise seems silly, it succeeds where “Swine” fails by putting the intent before the gimmick, and thus creates this universal struggle to have an image that satisfies everyone. Considering that the album cover is a curious image of being chained up in some sci-fi garb, it’s the type of sentiment that only she could pull off and have it be both comedic and deeply self-reflective.

The same can’t be said about “Sour Candy,” which features guest vocalist BLACKPINK. Using candy imagery, it’s basically a rundown of euphemisms related to the candy industry. Sure it’s fun, but this is a reminder that as personal as Lady Gaga can be, she’s also an entertainer. This album is a push and pull of every side of her, managing to bring in more personal takes like “Enigma” and “Replay” in the moments following. While individually each song ranges from some of Lady Gaga’s most insightful or vapid, together it’s a collage of energy that feels like a swirl of colors, being interpreted for the surreal feeling that they give us.

It’s unfortunate that “Chromatica III” ends the album on a bit of a rocky road. “Sine From Above” features Elton John (fun fact: he won Best Original Song at the Oscars the year following her), and if anyone sounds out of place in this dance prism, it’s John. He may be a great singer, but there are too many discordant moments to be endearing. It’s ironic that the most noteworthy cameo on the whole album is the worst, reflecting that while Lady Gaga wants to return to her roots, some collaborations are probably better done in a different genre and project. 

Then again, that’s what makes “Chromatica” exciting and disappointing at the same time. For me, there isn’t a lot of standout songs that make this more than a successful pop album to dance the night away to. If that’s what you want, then this is perfect for you. “Babylon” may continue the “not-not Madonna knockoff” tradition, but you can’t deny that it’s fun. 

However, I think it’s also one of her least interesting outings as a singer. Now that we’re aware of her unlimited potential, it’s strange to hear her make an album so plain, so straightforward in structure. While it’s great to see her being more open and taking away a disorienting falsehood, there’s little on this album that feels as purposeful as what we’ve heard before. There isn’t a moment on this album where Lady Gaga’s bombast stands out in the ways that the more uneven “Artpop” does. I can’t think of a moment that I want to mull over as much as “Venus” or “Applause.” This is just Lady Gaga making a dance record, and the only good news is that she still knows how to make fun music. She’s always been weird, but this feels like she’s weird on autopilot.

I don’t hate “Chromatica,” but for a record that is selling itself on weird imagery, it never quite fulfills its strange vision. It’s got plenty of flamboyance to love, but you also get the sense that the six years since of Lady Gaga proving how far her charisma can go makes this album feel limiting, like a detour before she makes something ambitious and strange. Even with wild outfits and memorable cameos, this never quite fees like we’re on the same planet as Lady Gaga. Chromatica still feels far away, and I wish that I could understand more of its appeal to see why this was the record she needed to make.