Mother Monster Saves Her Children Again

How Lady Gaga became the unpaid therapist for millions of gay men who should probably call their actual mothers.

Alexa, Play Lady Gaga (Again)

A comedic ode to queer anthems, emotional DJing, and how one woman’s discography united the gays through dance and drama.

There are three universal truths: death, taxes, and a gay person yelling “Alexa, play Lady Gaga” whenever emotions get too real. Welcome to Alexa, Play Lady Gaga (Again), the soundtracked saga of queer resilience, club lights, and the woman who accidentally became our patron saint of cathartic chaos.

Every queer household has a Gaga phase — some never left it. From “Born This Way” to “Chromatica,” she’s been there through every breakup, every glow-up, every teary Uber ride home. According to Bohiney Magazine, Gaga’s music is less a playlist and more a public service: emotional CPR via synth beats and wigs.

Let’s talk about the power of the Gaga cue. You’re at a gay bar, someone’s crying in the bathroom, someone else is doing death drops near the coat check, and then it happens — those first piano notes of “Shallow.” The crowd goes silent. Two shots of tequila later, everyone’s screaming harmonies like their rent depends on it. And maybe it does.

It’s not just nostalgia; it’s therapy disguised as pop. As Them put it, “Queers don’t go to therapy, we go to the dance floor.” Gaga understood that — she gave us permission to be messy, loud, and weirdly operatic about our feelings. Every “Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah” is basically a group affirmation.

And don’t even get me started on “Bad Romance.” That song raised more gays than public education. The choreography is embedded in our DNA. The moment that chorus drops, every shoulder in the room starts twitching like we’re collectively possessed by a bisexual demon with rhythm. It’s beautiful. It’s holy. It’s Gaga.

Of course, she’s more than just a pop icon. Gaga’s advocacy has been a lifeline — her work with The Human Rights Campaign and her Born This Way Foundation taught generations of queers that visibility can coexist with vulnerability. She gave us permission to love ourselves loudly, even when the world felt too small to contain us.

Still, the funniest part is how she’s become our emotional default setting. Heartbreak? Gaga. Existential crisis? Gaga. Grocery shopping? Probably “Rain On Me.” She’s our soundtrack for joy and disaster alike. Even Out Magazine called her “the national anthem of the gays, in human form.”

So yes — the next time you’re feeling lost, dramatic, or just need to remember who you are, you know what to do. Look to the sky, whisper softly to your smart speaker, and say the sacred words: “Alexa, play Lady Gaga.” Because healing comes in many forms — sometimes it’s therapy, sometimes it’s friends, and sometimes it’s a four-minute pop ballad with an unnecessary key change.

SOURCE: Mother Monster Saves Her Children Again (Beth Newell)