Yesterday we were sitting in the garden enjoying some gin and discussing Colonel Gaddafi’s son and how he was basically once my neighbour (according to my friend Sam, Colonel Gaddafi’s son used to live around the corner from me, but according to Hamish he lived much nearer to Jonathon Ross, but according to a boy that Hamish slept with he lived in hiding in the basement of the derelict Heath House which was by far the most exciting idea but unlikely as we all know Colonel Gaddafi’s son was hardly a stowaway, he hired Beyoncé to sing at his birthday party for fuck sake. Or was that Mugabe’s son? There really should be a section in Hello! for all this, it's almost as if someone doesn't want us to know that dictators' families spend the summer season soaking up West End shows and dining in Jamie's Italian in safe-as-houses London, and so we reached an agreement that the late Colonel Gaddafi’s son once lived in North London somewhere) because the Evening Standard said so.
Then the conversation moved briefly onto erotic cushion covers by Trademark and then SUDDENLY Emma starts talking about this openly gay pop star that she likes who is like “Meatloaf meets P!nk” (I swear a lobbyist pays Emma to drop these topics into conversations with gay men)
“Sorry, go back” I say, trying to breed Meatloaf with P!nk in my tired head. “Who are you talking about?”
“Adam...?” says Hamish, frowning.
“Lambert!” says Emma, ignoring the cloud of indelible cynicism slowly grouping in the air around the four of us.
I look at Sam who looks at Hamish. “Yeah I think we saw him at Heaven once?”
“I didn’t see him at Heaven once” I say immediately. But I did, and I do know who he is, obviously. It’s just I’ve forgotten because nobody EVER plays his songs (does he even have songs?).
“Oh. Did you go with Sam?” asks Hamish.
“You ALL know who Adam Lambert is” says Emma, tears welling realising she’s backed the wrong horse this time..
“Maybe” allows Hamish, fiddling with his cuff.
“He’s been on BOYZ magazine!” cries Emma.
“Well!” claps Sam. “That narrows it down to ANY MAN who has EVER sung a song or taken their shirt off in the last two decades” [I should point out here that we always read BOYZ and adore it]
And so out comes the laptop onto the garden table and there goes “Adam Lambert” into the Google search bar and up pops his evil camp face.
“Turns out only 3 of his 8 singles actually charted in the UK and he’s never had a number one ANYWHERE” says Hamish, suddenly interested.
“Which is quite embarrassing when you think about it - even Diana Vickers can wrangle a number 1 these days” I say, still hating her since she got to fuck George Craig.
“If you’re a gay pop star in studded shoulders pads and the British aren’t buying your records then who the fuck will?” says Sam, right as ever.
“Guys I think you’re all being mean” says Emma. “You’re all gay, you should be supporting him, it’s tough enough already with psychos in America leaving him hateful comments all the time”
So we made it a task for the day to make ourselves more aware of Adam Lambert’s pop efforts and get to know his songs, because it’s about the music right and the bigger message?
Here are the three songs by Adam Lambert that have made it across the Atlantic to England:
A shaky song that sounds like Evanescence ten years ago. Whereas stars like Beyonce know how far to take a preachy Baptist sound (Smash Into You and Halo), Adam Lambert’s team take it toooo far. The lyrics are painfully simplified - “With every step you climb another mountain”. Sick in my mouth.
For Your Entertainment:
If only. This one is straight out of a musical episode of Two Pints of Lager and a Packet of Crisps. It’s as if Womanizer had an interlude written by car park attendants on Prozac and you were listening to it through a bag.
Disappointingly Adam’s dancing is nauseatingly static. He sort of lunges himself up and down like a steam engine and whenever the opportunity for a literal dance move pops up – that opportunity is SEIZED with all the imagination of Anusol. It’s all a bit Peter Kay. The clothes aren’t great either, like, asymmetrical studs. It’s as if Fisherprice abducted Patrick Wolf and forced him to design a clothes range, and here is his deliberately feigned result.
Whataya Want From Me:
In his third real song Whataya Want From Me Adam ups his game a bit musically, “Ooh” said Hamish, and this video has enjoyed over 23 million views on YouTube, dizzy figures that Shania Twain or Jennifer Paige can only dream of. It’s a bit Foo Fighters this song, which is a MASSIVE compliment heading Adam Lambert’s way. He looks like Dawn French playing Julian Clary though, which could be a compliment if Adam Lambert was a Barcelonan street act.
Talk about being a gay role model, this video is MISERABLE, Adam Lambert just sits around on empty sofas or sits in bed WITH ALL OF HIS CLOTHES ON, brooding over the song’s recipient who is presumably someone who didn’t reciprocate the Flame button on Gaydar. I’m not saying gay pop stars have to dress like Red Indians and clap for their dinner but let’s not convince youngsters that all we do is cry against IKEA book cases and wait for terminal illness to take its toll. Compared to The Pet Shop Boys, Erasure and Soft Cell this is a hefty step backwards.
It is clear from the YouTube comments on Adam Lambert’s channel that he has a sizeable fan base, in all senses. Sadly a lot of the comments follow this damp line of gay rights rhetoric, stuff like “Look people. He’s gay – so get over it Girlz – he Ain’t EVER gonna marry you because he’s a GAY MAN and we LOVE Adam forever and his hair is BETTER than Bieber’s” – that kind of gay message, written by girls who in four years time will be suing Claire’s Accessories because they got their tit stuck in a hand dryer, the type of girls who sort their Haribo into colour piles whilst their toenails dry because they’re allergic to yellow.
SO. Adam Lambert. Who knew icing your face in mascara, wearing two rings on each finger and wingeing about life’s difficulties could get you a Number 4 hit in Finland? Oh actually, his boyfriend is a Finnish TV presenter, my bad.
To some Adam Lambert is a role model, an openly gay pop star who gay kids can identify with because – no wait – he was BORN IN 1982? He turns THIRTY soon? Holy shit, do his fans' parents know this?
To me, Adam Lambert looks like a dancer from a budget cruise line’s repertory theatre group, his songs are either dull ballads or lacklustre pop scrapings and anyone who dons him “one of the few openly gay pop stars” is insulting the plethora of ignored talent that is, has, and will always be out there.
If anything, Adam Lambert is a role model to young gays because he demonstrates the fact that the gay card isn’t enough in the world of pop, and that’s the way it should be. You have to be good at what you do too.
So, well done Adam Lambert, I’m sure there’s a bunch of people out there who need you, but I’ll stick to my Peaches getting-ready playlist and Patrick Wolf evenings, thanks.
* * *
Sam just read this blog post whilst I walked away for a minute and he added the following paragraph:
BASICALLY this blog post boils down to me wanting to say the following: “Look at MEE I live in Hampstead and I don’t give a shit about Adam Lambert and I want to say he’s fat but know better coz I is a gay journo.”
JESUS CHRIST SAM! You’ve effortlessly paraphrased my entire post down to 140 characters exactly. There should be a website for this kind of succinct genius...
“Oh my God, have I just written a perfect Tweet?!!” says Sam, who is an engineer, trying to suppress an orgasm of cocksure glee.
“Not really because you haven’t left any room for a link”
We still don’t know anything about Adam Lambert, and I can’t even recall the three songs that we just watched at least three times each. Perhaps the problem is us.