I don’t care about Adam Lambert’s sexuality. What he did at the American Music Awards was just gross. More to the point: It was certainly not “music” or “entertainment.” It sounded like kittens being boiled in hot oil while a kindergarten class pounded on ’80s synthesizers and a Rock Band drum set.
Egad, this is desperation draped in glitter drenched in liquid eyeliner smothered in hairspray and cinched with a spiked collar:
Lambert preemptively hyped this abomination as “sexy.”
Rolling Stone called it “shocking” and “racy.”
Er, no. Try ear-splitting, migraine-inducing, banal, and bottom of the barrel.
Hollyweird strikes again.