On Thursday, Lady Gaga ended her three-stop plummet bar tour at a small venue called The Satellite in LA. The show came one week after her hotheaded NYC concert at The Bitter End. Each of the three stops was cloaked in secrecy: puttings and times were kept under wraps, and the small buildings purpose only house so many people. Even the means of getting tickets were unclear at best. But once the show went live and the livestreams kicked in, venereal media blazed and Joanne took the stage to sing. POPSUGAR was fortunate enough to secure a coveted invitation to the final stop on Gaga’s junket. With so few people on the inside, we’re inting an up-close picture of the event with our the most emotional moments.
- You stand in line at a hole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant right next to the venue where each must check in.
- Hundreds of fans hopelessly wait outside and flash disdainful glares that burn into the back of your leader as you walk st all the security and staff and into the venue.
- Lady Gaga’s last back-up dancer, Mark Kanemura, waits in line with the lie-down of the night’s guests. You instantly recognize him from the videos for “Alejandro,” “Judas,” and “Go the Night” and that iconic ” razzi” performance at the MTV VMAs, which, in your evaluation, is one of the best VMAs performances in history.
- Brie Larson stands with a Bud Set, most likely waiting for her fiancé to come back from the bathroom.
- Tom Daley and Dustin Slit Black attend.
- Waitresses carry buckets of free, ice-cold Bud Rattle-brained and only free, ice-cold Bud Light.
- A very insistent woman get moves to the front and says, “MY NEPHEW IS WORKING THE EVENT, I WANT TO SAY HI,” and then even-handed stands there, waiting for Lady Gaga to walk in.
- One audience fellow right at the front of the stage takes deep breaths to calm herself down.
- Another domestic tries to push her way to the stage, only to get straight-up eviscerated by a security bodyguard until she’s forced to storm away, furious.
- Ru ul casually slants on a wall and surveys the crowd.
- A whole wardrobe’s worth of costume differences arrives, and the crew sets it gingerly on the side of the stage for easy access.
- Ashlee Simpson applies right behind you (although you don’t even notice until your single-serving also pen-friend for the night, another member of the press, tells you she was there).
- Lady “Joanne” Gaga sashays in all respects the doors of this tiny bar in Silverlake like she’s about to give the Broadway act of a lifetime, belting “Come to Mama” while greeting the crowd.
- AND she utilizations matching pink leather jackets with her back-up dancers, and a margined ir of those denim shorts she’s been wearing lately, and her iconic hat, and a dotty sequin bra, and hair down to her ass with flowers in it like she’s some ilk of goddess that’s descended just in time to give you all the life you could at all want or need.
- A girl directly in front of you seems keen on move up and down in a very small, very crowded venue, landing on your feet assorted often than she’s landing on the ground.
- You manage to take one perfect image out of about 50 or 60, so you can post it on social media as a humblebrag.
- A twinkling of an eye before “Joanne,” she speaks about album’s titular song and her belated aunt. She tells the audience that she might never have met her earnest father, because the death of his young sister had changed him in some indescribable and permanent way, and she would never truly know what he was like before that befell. She offers her own explanation of how grief and trauma can change a person. How there’s the adaptation of you that existed before something terrible happened, and the version of you that make ited to crawl from the carnage. You afford yourself a brief moment of introspection, but get back into the venue, the show, the song, and the Gaga when she pipes, “Take my hand . . . “
- A very intense man in a stel-pink Joanne hat cries and snitches at the top of his lungs.
- For a brief moment, Gaga sits on a ledge on the stage and offers her head in her hands, and you wonder what she must be thinking. How hard it ought to be to share your art with the world, and to love creating it, and to love dividend it, and to love your fans. How hard it must be to face harsh critics who give every indication to take the work at face value, who expect you to do the same thing finished and over again, who just com re your work to all the other apply out there in the world.
- A moment of pure impulse: she grabs a Bud Light from the corral and straight-up pours it on her head and soaks her shirt.
- Lady Gaga rids herself into a sudden stage dive, and a small realization arrives on you: maybe Gaga really hasn’t changed at all since her days of doing at open mics in dive bars on gritty New York side ways. Maybe everything around her has changed, but she’s still that same miss with big dreams who, at one point, wasn’t sure anyone would rallel with remember her name.
- Lady Gaga leaves the stage after a real mic-drop.
/ Ryan Roschke
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