‘Abracadabra, amor-ooh-na-na’: Why Lady Gaga’s newest return to form feels more authentic in its weirdness

The Weirdness of “Vintage Gaga” and Her Post-Artpop Pivot

When Gaga starts riffing on the word “abracadabra” with nonsensical syllables in her new song—syllables that, mind you, fully don’t make up the word and also don’t exactly mean anything concrete—Little Monsters who were there from the beginning cannot help but remember the first time they heard the immortal intro to “Bad Romance:” “Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah / Roma, roma-ma / Gaga, ooh-la-la / Want your bad romance.” Fans can also draw comparisons to the way in which she sings “Judas, Juda-ah-ah.” When Gaga does this, it’s not about the message of the song, it’s a full-on commitment to the vibe. This artistic choice does not seek to explain itself or make itself palatable to the average listener. In other words, it is unapologetic in its weirdness. 

That weirdness has always been what has most attracted and inspired Gaga’s original fans, who have stuck by her even as her artistry became more traditionally-minded. The last time Gaga was this weird was on her 2013 album Artpop, which was considered a commercial and critical flop upon its initial release despite having been reevaluated and embraced as “ahead of its time” in recent years. 

After Artpop, Gaga began pivoting to a less outlandish persona. She performed a tribute to “The Sound of Music” at the Oscars, she released her first collaborative jazz album with Bennett, and she eventually “de-glammed” for her leading role in Bradley Cooper’s adaptation of A Star is Born. Although this seemed like a necessary step in her career at the time, the O.G. Gaga fans mourned the days of the meat dress complete with its matching meat purse, the plastic egg she allegedly lived in for three days prior to debuting “Born this Way” at the Grammys, and her male alter-ego Jo Calderone. It would be almost a decade before Gaga would create a full-length album that revisits the genre that made her so famous.

Why Mayhem Feels More “Vintage Gaga” Than Chromatica

In 2020, Gaga returned to dance-pop with her album Chromatica, and although it was a breath of relief for fans to hear their Mother Monster perform songs within this genre again, it never felt like a true return to form. Part of that may have something to do with the year in which it was released. It’s not like Gaga could do the kind of promotional performance art for which she was once known for during an infamous year where most folks were forced to stay indoors. 

Furthermore, the songs on Chromatica were simply less bizarre and far more transparent in their meaning. Gaga would explain in interviews that Chromatica was a pursuit of healing and happiness through dance music. What ultimately made this album less “vintage Gaga” than it appeared was that Gaga explained herself and editorialized her own work to potentially bridge the gap between her Little Monsters and the new fans she gained through her jazz records and films. 

This is why “Disease” and “Abracadabra” are resonating differently with Gaga’s loyal fanbase. The songs sound as chaotic as her original persona—after all, the album is called Mayhem. Sure, the thumping beats and layered vocals may feel like an onslaught to the folks who joined Gaga’s fan club when she was more “stripped down,” but unlike her approach to Chromatica, Gaga does not seem to care here. The videos are cryptic in their messaging—“Disease” alone feels Lynchian—with no attempts to appease newer and older fans and no overexplanations, leaving listeners with the ability to interpret the visuals and the song however they see fit. This fan, for instance, found “Abracadabra” to be a profound metaphor for bodily autonomy and survival.

Additionally, the lyrics are full of dark themes that lean on taboo subject matter (“screamin’ for me baby / like you’re gonna d*e / poison on the inside / I could be your antidote tonight”). They call to mind the provocative references on “Judas” (“Jesus is my virtue / And Judas is the demon I cling to”) and the playful desire on “Swine” (“You’re just a pig inside a human body”). 

On a granular level, “Abracadabra” has “vintage Gaga” written all over it: Queer-coded choreography, theatrical costuming, and that nonsensical lyricism we have all grown to adore. As an entire package, what makes these new songs—and hopefully, the whole album—a true return to form for Gaga is its total, unapologetic commitment to her own authenticity. She’s not simply going for shock value or donning her old performative persona again. That persona is an inherent part of who Gaga is as an artist, and she’s embracing that without any need to justify or editorialize her choices. For the first time in over a decade, we are getting to see Lady Gaga being shamelessly weird again, and it’s glorious.

_{via @GagaUnderMike}