Dear Adam Lambert,
Hey there, you big gaymo. Look, I didn’t say anything when you came out with your My Pretty Pony meets Space Camp meets your cousin Sheila’s high school yearbook photo from 1985 during her experimental eyeliner phase album cover for “For Your Entertainment.” And I didn’t say anything when the editor of Out wrote that open letter complaining about you even as he put you on the magazine’s cover (for the record, I think I might be on your side on that one). But you leave me no choice after your American Music Awards performance last night. Now, I don’t normally watch the AMAs. They’re basically not a real awards show but paperweights given out as an excuse for superstars to get on stage and sell records. But I keep reading about people falling and fire and fellatio on my Twitter feed last night so I was forced to tune in. (Note: The West Coast feed had JLo’s assplant cut from its broadcast. Don’t you know moments like that are the only reason we watch in the first place?)
Anyway, the night was basically two performances for me. 1. Lady Gaga and 2. You. So let me break this down as simply as we can.
This is how you do outrageous right. Please note the wearing of lighted exoskeletons and control-top pantyhose in lieu of clothing.
And, then, of course, fire.
This is how you do outrageous wrong. Please note that simulated blow jobs are never, ever good TV. (p.s. This was also cut from the West Coast feed. p.p.s. You suck, AMA editors).
Also, while as a rule I approve wholeheartedly of kissing androgynous bandmates on live television, that kiss was about as hot as the Al and Tipper Gore smooch at the 2000 Democratic Convention.
The main problem I have is that your performance smacked of shock for shock’s sake. It wanted to badly to be shocking and failed even at that. Also, you were kinda pitchy, dawg. Look, Lady Gaga works not because she is shocking but because she is ambitious. She wants to be different and aggressively so, so even if she fails sometimes it is never dull. And she does it all with vision. There is nothing visionary about grinding a dude’s face in your man bits and grabbing ladies by their lady business.
Having said all that, I do appreciate how unabashedly you are bringing the gay these days. Don’t ever stop. Same goes for the sparkly pants. But, seriously, fire your choreographer.