Lady Gaga wants your soul, Toronto. And she’d probably fuck you for it, too. A little or a lot of ridiculousness is what most have come to expect from the Lady, and she wasn’t skimping on it in Friday night.

An overall energetic performance at the Kool Haus, the show started at 10:40pm (about forty minutes late), and ended at midnight. Gaga rocked multiple wardrobe changes, including her “bitch in a bubble” ensemble, and brought out the disco stick.

The crowd was filled with Gaga-wannabes; blonde wigs, sequined dresses, eccentric hair pieces (including my own giant flower). Girls and gays alike got rowdy to the tunes and robotic dance moves provided by the current, so-called “Princess of Pop”.

The piano was brought out for a stripped-down rendition of Poker Face, partly played with her legs spread apart on the keys. Because why not? Also sung was a cover of Kanye West’s Heartless which sent the crowd in a frenzy of sing-a-long.

There were quite a bit of philosophical theories and life stories from Gaga’s end, both between and during songs. She wants you to know that money ain’t a thang, and that the most important thing in the world to her are her fans. Lyrical contradictions aside, LG played a new song which she thinks might be about dildos.

Definitely a character, Lady Gaga knows how to take things to the very edge, sometimes taking a casual stumble over.

This was Lady Gaga’s final show in which she performs alone on stage. In this upcoming tour, there will be a band backing her. You can catch her opening for Kanye West later this year.

I stopped by the official Lady Gaga-hosted after party at Ultra, also marking the opening night of a crazy MMVA party-filled weekend. Gaga did indeed come and I got a glimpse of her in a secluded booth donning her signature shades. Chad Kroeger of Nickelback along with Midway State and Rumer Willis were also in attendance. And we can’t forget Perez Hilton (or can we), who was also in town, following Gaga around like a desperate puppy. A crowded patio, relatively deserted main floor and glass of water later, Gaga-overdose forced me to call it a night. I stepped out the door only to be greeted by eager autograph-seekers and Rumer Willis-stalkers. Overall, successful evening.

Words and Photos by Melania Fedyna

Nobody told me I was attending a hardcore show. Or the impending brilliance of Peaches, live!

I was definitely expecting the unexpected, and the expectantly unexpected is what went down Wednesday night. Peaches was back in Toronto in all her hometown glory. Playing to a packed Phoenix Concert Theatre, the crowd was diverse, eccentric, and ready & willing.

Peaches can’t help but engage you. Appropriately, Show Stopper was song number one, with Peaches creeping out of the shadows in a giant pink bubble-like contraption and sparkly mask, resembling one of those exotic, man-trap flowers.

Stripping the pink wonder, a variety of wardrobe changes were had throughout, including a bathrobe (complete with towel-on-head), multiple body suits, and some gold chains. A highlight, literally, was a flashing light attached to her crotch area. This little gem was revealed when she stood atop the drum set.

A few songs in, Peaches willingly threw herself into an already out of control audience, crowd surfing her way around the pack, becoming a victim of grope at every degree. Next, she was gracing a balcony high above the stage, treating us to an opera-worthy spectacle.

Peaches’ over the top theatrics are what make her stand out as an artist and performer, and why her show ranks tops in my books. I was an aptly titled “Peaches virgin”, but she did me with just the right amount of finesse and colourful energy. Peaches is an infectious confection that will leave you craving more.

The new album in its entirety was brought to life, along with a multitude of songs off previous records; Boys Wanna Be Her, Shake Yer Dix, Fuck the Pain Away, anyone? During Talk To Me, two bleach blonde Cousin It-like, lingerie-clad girls came on stage, straight out of the song’s video. My favourite performance was of I Feel Cream. Peaches’ vocals really shine on this track and she blew me away.

Standing to the right of the stage proved to be a bad choice, because I was subjected to a few rumbles. Caught in the crossfire, the punch to my side endured was completely worth it and I felt pretty bad ass. No blood shed there, but Peaches took care of that by spitting up fake blood during a song. So awesome!

There were 3 encores; people ended up leaving after the second, thinking the show was done for good. Not so. With one final hurrah, Peaches glided onto stage in what can only be described as a red and black bull-fighting, flapper dress. A solid performance later, the show ended with bows and thank yous to an undeniably seduced crowd.

Acting as a back-up band for Peaches is Berlin band Sweet Machine, who compliment her persona quite perfectly.

Opening this tour is Drums of Death, a guy from London town that DJs and MCs. My dark side was really into his white face paint and crazy bass. His act was what I imagine an underground European gothic rave in the 90s would’ve look like. There were dudes in black baggy pants with chains, glow sticking. Minus the glow sticks. Drums of Death also had a hand in producing one of Peaches’ tracks, I Feel Cream. Ten cool points for that great tune.

Final verdict: Peaches is a whole bunch of cool wrapped into a few layers of body suits and one majestic gold cape. No smoke and mirrors here, just fog machines and lasers to pierce through your soul.

Peaches, who? If for some reason you’re clueless, click here for a mini-documentary of what you’ve been missing.

Big shout out and thanks to SheDoesTheCity.com Contests for hooking me up with tickets!

Words and Photos by Melania Fedyna

This week, my always accurate Facebook horoscope informed me that I would reacquaint myself with an old hobby and realize how much I missed it. Whether that “old hobby” was attending concerts or listening to a Lily Allen album, either way, it turned out to be true.

Wednesday night marked Lily Allen’s 2-year return to Toronto, down to the month. And may I say, it was a triumphant one. Toronto town was her final stop on the month-long tour in support of her sophomore album It’s Not Me, It’s You.

I first saw Lily perform in April 2007 to a relatively more subdued crowd at The Phoenix, but that intimate show paled in comparison to what I witnessed this year at the monstrous Sound Academy. Playing to a sold-out crowd approximately 10 million times the size of The Phoenix, everyone was much livelier and more eager to to be in attendance.

The show started right on schedule, as a trim, short-haired Lily bopped out in an oversized hoodie and high tops, with a tight black dress underneath that required the use of Spanx.

Lily played an hour and 15 minute set, singing every song off the new album, including a few from her first Alright, Still (Everything’s Wonderful, LDN, Littlest Things, Smile), and Oh My God, her collaboration with pal Mark Ronson. It was like being at a sing-alone, with everyone enthusiastically karaoke-ing “fuck you very much” along with Lily, as per requested.

I felt really good after this performance. Nothing cleanses your soul like yelling “fuck you” at the top of your lungs with no repercussions.

From my immediate surroundings, I determined the all ages crowd to be older than I had originally expected. I thought I’d be the lonely loner standing in a corner by myself amidst a sea of 8-12 year olds, but situated by the bar, there were only 20-somethings. I overheard a girl beside me say Lily’s track “22” was about her, in regards to a song about society’s view of a girl’s life being over by age 30. So to sum it up, I felt young.

I went to the show expecting a nice, mellow performance, but what I got was a high-energy, electro-infused spectacle, which included the melody of Kid Cudi’s Day ‘N’ Nite meshing into a cover of Britney Spears’ single Womanizer. It was the last song of the night, and by this point I was sold. This was just icing on the cake.

If you weren’t a fan of Lily’s before, you certainly walked out in awe of her stage presence and energy, if not the skill of drinking 3+ beers and smoking cigarettes during a set. Hey, some artists get wasted before the show, why not have fun on stage?

You can’t help but smile while watching her perform, be it because of her quirky lyrics or bubbly personality and random banter. The show started off on a slower note, but kicked up middle to end, and I was definitely not bored.

Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head opened up the show. I only saw them play about 2 ½ songs, but they seemed like a really cool, live band. Lily brought them out on stage at the end of the show and proceeded to playfully punch them. Evidence below.

(‘Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head’, and a multitude of others.)

Some people were apparently influenced by this, because a fight broke out in the parking lot, post-show. I witnessed one perpetrator getting slammed to the ground by two security guards as I passed by. Who brawls at a Lily Allen concert? Good job, guys.

Since this was Lily’s final show, appropriately, a celebration was held backstage. Later that night, Lily hit up her Twitter to inform us of an ice-cream fight that cost her 2 grand! That’s how it’s done, party people.

Lily Allen is an avid Twitter-er (Tweeter?), and has been hiding tickets before each gig, then posting clues on her account as to where they can be found. I was lurking “twatter” from home and came to the conclusion that 2 sets were hidden around the U of T campus. Did anyone participate in the pre-show Twitter ticket scavenger hunt? Dish and details, please!

She also updated with a slam at the always kind Perez Hilton, a big fuck you at him for reporting her incompetence of getting through a tour. Lily Allen said she has not read one bad review of her shows, and this one will not change that.

Rock on, Lilz!

Honorable mentions: All the large ‘n’ in charge folk who insist on standing in front of me at concerts. I got stuck behind a gentleman who was busy showing his buddy a photo on his iPhone of a lingerie-clad women taking a pic of herself. I was apparently also located in a high-traffic area, because I was constantly being moved over to make way for beer-wielding folk and frustrated bathroom goers. Oh, the sacrifices.

Words and Photos by Melania Fedyna