DISGRACELAND - Lady Gaga (Pt.1): How She Manipulated the Conspiracy Theorists on Her Way to Becoming The Biggest Pop Star on the Planet

Episode Date: January 26, 2026

Lady Gaga not only manipulated her past, she manipulated the media into propping her up on her way to becoming one of the biggest stars in the world. She also toyed with conspiracy theorists, using their fervent chatter to boost her mythology. From the Intersex theory to Lina Morgana, we get into all of it in this part one episode on Lady Gaga. To listen to Disgraceland ad free and get access to weekly bonus content and more, become a Disgraceland All Access member at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠disgracelandpod.com/membership⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. Sign up for our newsletter and get the inside dirt on events, merch and other awesomeness - ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠GET THE NEWSLETTER⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Follow Jake and DISGRACELAND: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠YouTube⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠X⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ (formerly Twitter)  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Facebook Fan Group⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TikTok⁠ To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoicesSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is exactly right. Double Elvis. Disgrace Land is a production of Double Elvis. This is a story about one of the biggest pop stars on the planet. A Grammy-winning chart-topping, staggeringly successful musician, an artist who refuses to be easily defined. A shapeshifting, influential five-tool multi-hyphenate icon. A singer, a songwriter, an actor, an endlessly

compelling superstar with legions of followers from all over the world. She's more than mainstream. She is the mainstream, yet she's the voice of the marginalized, the alienated, the isolated of freaks and monsters everywhere. And she inspires more than just fandom and obsession. She's compelled countless conspiracy theorists whose claims about her are as absurd as they are horrifying. She's a man.

She's a murderer. Are these claims true? And if not, why won't they go away? What is it about this artist that drives these persistent conspiracies? The artist I'm talking about is, of course, Lady Gaga, an artist who, yes, makes great music. Unlike that music I played for you at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my Melotron called Fish Nets on Delancey, MK1. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to So What by Pink?

And why would I play you that specific slice of dirt bike dating cheese? Could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on October 4th, 2008. And that was the day Lady Gaga's friend and musical collaborator, Lena Morgana died. An event that kicked off one of the wildest, darkest, darkest rumors in modern music history. On this episode, influencer versus shapeshifter, icon of sex or intersex, borrowed or stolen identity,

suicide or murder, Illuminati or Catholic schoolgirl gone wrong. The Lady Gaga story, you didn't. know you need it. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is disgrace land. Most people spend hours perfecting the outfits they're going to wear to gain entrance into exclusive nightclubs. The opposite is true if one seeks admission to Berlin's Lab Oratory, part of the notorious Burgain nightclub complex, which opens at 11.59 p.m. Friday evening and closes around 9 a.m. Monday morning. Burgain's doorman are as selective as Studio 54's notorious Mark Benike once was, but twice as cruel.

At Burgain, outrageous outfits are not encouraged. It's best to rock your simplest jeans and t-shirt combo and act like you don't care, which of course you very much do. The doorman's harsh East German stare betrays nothing. His face is blank as death and bleak like a Berlin morning. And though your heart is in your throat, you play it cool. You're not drunk, you're not obviously high. You haven't spoken a word while in line, so the doorman has no idea that you don't speak German. He gives you a slow once-over with Gestapo-like suspicion and steps aside, clearing a free path to the heavy industrial door covered in graffiti. You return a stair with

your own blankness and proceed through the door, which somehow opens on its own before you get to it. Inside this mammoth fourth-story brick-and-mortar tribute to Sodom and Gomorrah, you're surrounded by a blackness only penetrated in minuscule moments by brief bursts of strobing white light. The pulsing house music pommels you. Somehow it's both muffled and suffocatingly loud. Your eardrums hollow out, then the walls of your stomach vibrate. You wonder if this is what Havana syndrome feels like. The thought disappears, and so does the twinge of nausea, as your heart rate quickens with anticipation while you pass through Burgain's labyrinth of long, winding hallways beneath 40-foot ceilings.

You walk past secret passageways to even more secret rooms, where you and others will partake in acts that decades ago, where they not kept secret, would have resulted in harsh societal condemnation, persecution, jail, violence, even death. You press on, up countless staircases, slipping through various entrances into a maze work of club settings. You wonder how you'll describe this, the Burgain nightclub complex, to your friends. Imagine if Trent Rezner designed a music and dance mall dedicated to debauchery. And that's about the best you can come up with as you rub shoulders with the like-minded hedonists from all over the globe. Different countries, different backgrounds, with different looks and different sexual orientation. though mostly gay, and each of them seeking a different version of what you seek.

The freedom to be who you truly are and to align your true identity with your most honest sexual desires. The word freak seems pejorative, but that's not how you see it. You view the word the same as the composer of the Stuart Price remix that's blasting across the Bergen dance floor, the same way that that composer views the word freak, as a badge of on. honor. And that composer, of course, is not only your favorite pop star, she's your champion, your icon. You're one of her little monsters and she's your quote unquote mother monster, one of the biggest stars of the 21st century, Lady Gaga, who was, just as you were, born this way, an artist who told the world that she always felt like a freak, an artist who took her awkward

feelings of high school alienation in isolation and use them as fuel. Fuel to empower her and her millions of fans you included, she empowered all of you to embrace your true identities and to reclaim the word freak. And with that reclamation comes liberation, freedom. And so here you are inside the Bergenne nightclub complex, outside the entryway to the lab oratory. The club style It realizes its name as lab dot oratory, a semi-clever take on the word laboratory, thus my kind of strange pronunciation of the club's name. Lab oratory isn't just any club. It's a sex club with rules.

Lab oratory is for men only on most nights, and the club's motto is, play safe, dress dirty. Before one can enter, one must make a prerequisite stop in the locker room. You know the drill. laboratory advertisements are clear. There's a strict dress code, fully naked, shoes only. Under the locker room's fluorescent lights, you strip down, stuff your clothes in a plastic bag and throw the bag into a locker.

Eagerly, you make your way into laboratory. Again, fully naked, except for your sneakers. The club's flyers prohibit not only clothing, but also cologne, and you immediately understand why. The smell hits you almost as hard as the music. In a word, a club smells like men. A raunchy, exhilarating mix of pheromones, sex, and the sweet scent of vodka, which famously is odorless until it passes through one's sweat pores.

All of it fills the air and your nostrils. And with the music, you're already enthralled before your brain even begins to register where your eyes are seeing. Black and white sexual psychedelia, a dom-dumed dance floor jammed with different body types, all nude, all sharing the same space. Strangers clinging to some type of communal intimacy. And you now know that you'll never be able to explain this. It's something that can only be felt. This is something far too experiential, like love or faith, something that words too often fail to describe. Gas masks hang from the wall.

Men speak to you with gestures, signals, not words. Words are no good here. The music is too loud, and the shared frequency that everyone is plugged into makes speaking unnecessary. You all want the same thing. Not sex. Freedom. And everyone in this club understands what that means. This isn't the 1970s.

This isn't New York's meatpacking district. Floor shows and spectacle fisting are Utre. This is the 21st century. And though Lab Oratory is primal, and though nearly every kink is allowed, this space is also profoundly respectful. To repeat, the so-called freak is celebrated. And with this respect comes the type of tenderness that would otherwise be absent from a nightclub full of naked men dancing and fucking to the sounds of Lady Gaga house mixes. After all, Lab Oratory is the setting for one of the most notorious chapters. and what has become the myth of Lady Gaga.

It's the place where one of the most unsettling and controversial conspiracy theories surrounding the pop star would be finally put to bed. Ever since Lady Gaga burst into mainstream public consciousness in 2008, conflicting information about who she was and where she came from has persisted. To hear Gaga tell it, back then anyway, the young 23-year-old pop star described herself to interviewers is having grown up as an outsider, a quote-unquote goth girl with hair dyed black,

equally obsessed with David Bowie and Judy Garland. Gaga strategically offered other bits from her past, too, like the fact that before she became a global sensation, selling out stadiums and countries all over the world, she worked a pole on New York's Lower East Side as a burlesque dancer. Or that Gaga, like many feral denizens of the LES back in the mid-aughts from the story, strokes to Ryan Adams, knew exactly what it meant when a fellow bar hop whispered, Meet Me in the bathroom. These biographical sketches of Lady Gaga's past doled out in the many interviews she gave as her career began to skyrocket are not false, but they do color only between the lines

of a carefully designed, artist-driven creation myth. It's an origin story that leaves out a lot. And as it pertains to Gaga's high school years, presents an almost, and I say the word almost very intentionally, an almost false depiction of who she was. Do I think that we should fault Lady Gaga for this? Absolutely not. Most of the best artists, from Bob Dylan to Lou Reed to Jack White,

Bowie, and too many others to name, the best artists painstakingly fueled their own myths by carefully cultivating their origin stories. Bob Dylan wasn't raised by Carney Barkers, and Lou Reed didn't go to Harvard. Jack White wasn't Meg White's brother. David Bowie didn't find. fall to earth, and Lady Gaga wasn't born with a penis. More on that when we returned to

laboratory in a moment. But first, let's quickly look at who Lady Gaga was before she was Lady Gaga. She was Stephanie Germanada, and she grew up rich on New York's Upper West Side. You know the guest Wi-Fi you use to get onto the internet with your computer in hotels? The one that's literally called guest Wi-Fi? Her dad, Joe Germinata, invented that. He also invented Stephanie Germanada, aka Lady Gaga. Joe and his wife raised their daughter Catholic, sending her to a prestigious private school, the exclusive all-girls convent of the Sacred Heart in Manhattan. The school is set in a converted mansion, and if you want an idea of what type of exclusivity

we're talking about, convent of the Sacred Hearts past students include Anderson Cooper's mother, Gloria Vanderbilt, heiress to the Vanderbilt fortune, Caroline Kennedy, the daughter of President John F. Kennedy, and both Paris and Nikki Hilton. I didn't attend Catholic school, but I imagine it's a fairly stuffy experience. I can see how someone like Lady Gaga might describe her experience there as that of an outsider, being made to feel like a quote-unquote freak. But former classmates in photos of Stephanie Germanada's school days, which one can now find on the internet, They all paint a different picture of her school days.

Classmates describe her as social, involved, even outgoing. Photos reveal a smiling, fresh-faced, enthusiastic student wearing her school uniform to code and eagerly participating in mass and in student plays in musicals. To this day, Lady Gaga remains close with a number of her high school classmates. Her loyalty to her friends is surpassed only by her loyalty to her family. where Gaga has made no secret about the fact that despite being one of the biggest stars on the planet, she still often returns to her parents' three-story duplex to surround herself with their love and the familiar comforts of her childhood home.

All of this is at odds with how Gaga has described herself. We're all very aware of how 90s and early aughts, outsiders, and freaks looked and behaved. They were seldom seen smiling in yearbook photos with other students, or eagerly attending Catholic Mass, ambitiously going for lead roles in school plays, or heading home on weekends to hang with their parents after becoming rock stars. Their histories look quite different, actually.

Late 90s and early odds outsiders were infrequently, if ever, pictured in candid moments in their yearbook, smiling. Real music-driven outsiders didn't eagerly attend anything except punk and DIY shows, never mind Catholic Mass. And they didn't go out for school plays, and God willing they ever achieved rock star status, the last place they were going to go as a young 20-something was home to Mommy and Daddy on the weekend.

But all of this said, I don't think Lady Gaga was lying about feeling like an outsider, despite the person we now know that she was pre-fame. Because Lady Gaga had something that 99% of her fellow humans don't have. A blinding, almost suffocating ambition, to be the biggest star on the planet. From an early age, she was absolutely driven to make it as a performer,

specifically as a singer and songwriter. You can see it in those pictures from Sacred Heart, and you can see it in those embarrassing videos of Stephanie Germanada from her NYU days back in the early 2000s on stage at the bitter end. About as uncool a New York venue as you could find at the time, fighting her way through Led Zeppelin covers

to a near empty room with a half-ass hippie band backing her up. And you can see it in later photos of a reinvented Lady Gaga from her Lowery Side Days, working the bars on Ludlow and Delancey for every ounce of credibility she could scrounge and leotards and go-go boots during a time when she was clawing her way

toward a major label record deal. Stephanie Germanado wasn't going to be denied. If you spoke to those who have known Lady Gaga for a long time, they'd all tell you that this ambition was always there. She was always hustling. She worked her way into a development deal with the top-notch producer. She was writing, demoing, constantly chasing down live gigs, hanging out at the right places, showing up at the right parties,

seeking out the right people to be seen with and sleeping with the hottest bartender on the Lower East Side. A long-haired metal head named Luke because, of course he was, and she was scouring the trendy digital blog pages of last night's party and the cobra snake for pictures of herself from the night before. For Lady Gaga, the hustle never stopped. She lived, work, slept, and dreamed hustle. Everything she did, including engaging in her favorite topic of conversation, herself, was all about making it.

This type of ambition isn't only blinding. It's isolating. When you orient your life around a goal with the type of drive that causes you to behave differently than anyone else you know and come in contact with, well, you're by definition, alien. yourself. So, was Lady Gaga an outsider back in her formative years? Yes, absolutely she was. She just invented an origin story her audience could better relate to. And that speaks to her genius. But what about her penis, you ask? Oh yeah, right. Back to the Lab Oratory in Berlin. When Lady Gaga and her entourage entered the Bergeny Nightclub complex in 2010, Stephanie Germanada's identity had long since been supplanted by the mother monster, the gagaloo, gags, Gaga,

Lady Gaga, the new queen of pop. By 2010, Lady Gaga was caught in a hurricane of unprecedented success for a new artist. I could fill the entirety of this podcast giving examples of just how staggeringly successful Gaga had become by 2010, only three years into her professional career. But I'm not going to do that. After releasing your debut album, The Fame, in 2008. The woman didn't just have hit singles. She had the biggest selling singles of the year. She captivated the world with her performance at the 52nd Grammy Awards, drew more than a few comparisons to mid-career Madonna, chief among them by pissing off the Catholics with her song, Alejandro, which the Catholic League deemed blasphemous. And as she won three

Grammys, countless MTV video music awards, topped critics lists in Rolling Stone seemingly everywhere else and by the end of 2010 was named by Time Magazine as one of the hundred most influential people in the world. She also became the first person ever to achieve a billion views on YouTube for her bad romance video. But it was her Glastonbury performance in 2009 that really stoked the imaginations of the conspiracy theorists. The show was a triumph. It cemented Lady Gaga on the world stage. The audience since. simply could not get enough of Gaga, not just her performance, but her personality. They ate, as they say, from the palm of her hand.

And in the end, Lady Gaga sent them away by shooting flames out of her nipples, literally, well, literally out of her bra, anyway. But shortly thereafter, videos and photos from the performance began circulating online. Videos and photos that online sleuths claimed showed a bulge. beneath Gaga's skirt, a bulge that supposedly proved that Lady Gaga was intersex. Quotes, fake quotes, that is, from Gaga supposedly confirmed that she had both male and female genitalia. They went viral instantly. Gaga refused to deny the claims. Her management denied them for her, which, given the fact that her father is part of her management team,

you can understand why, but still, Gaga said nothing on the subject. In the corner of the internet that is concerned with all things Gaga was flooded with altered imagery exaggerating the bulge in her crotch. Silly? Yes, absolutely. But it's astonishing how many people fell for this ridiculousness and how persistent this rumor was until Gaga visited Lab Oratory with her entourage. After visiting Lab Oratory, Gaga, her security. A few friends, her makeup artists and the British. journalist Caitlin Moran from the Times of London filled the dance floor of another Bergen

Complex nightclub, this one with its own set of sex swings, bathtubs, and beds. According to Moran, Gaga was unlucky in love this evening despite her pop star status. The gay clientele were happy to host, but Gaga apparently struck out in her attempts to get laid. That whole not having a penis thing being an issue and all, but that's not the proof that should have finally dispelled the intersex rumor. After ditching her McQueen-designed cloak and braving the bar by herself wearing just her fishnets, panties, and a bra.

Gaga invited Caitlin Moran into the Bergen club's bathroom, for what Moran thought would be an opportunity to Dublo with her favorite pop star, but which turned out to instead be an extended girl hang. Whereupon the reporter witnessed, with her own two eyes, Lady Gaga squat on the toilet and relieve herself through her fishnets. And so, irrefutable proof of Lady Gaga's lack of male genitalia

was famously published by Caitlin Moran in The Times. But of course, the conspiracy theorist wouldn't accept it. A year later, in a 60 Minutes interview with Anderson Cooper, no less, Gaga wondered aloud why she should, quote, "'Waste my time and give a press release about whether or not I have a penis. My fans don't care, and neither do I. The conspiracy theorist went wild with this non-denial. Head over to Reddit, and you'll find that they still haven't let go of it, and to think.

The whole quote-unquote, Lady Gaga is a hermaphrodite thing, is only the third most popular conspiracy theories surrounding this global pop star. We'll be right back after this world, word, word. Lady Gaga wasn't the least bit phased about anonymous internet trolls questioning her physiology online. But having her home invaded, that was truly horrifying. Flashback, 2006, New York's Lory Side. The shower felt good on her body, despite the fact that it, like most of the utilities in Lady Gaga's 176 Stanton Street apartment, barely worked half the time. unlike her.

Stephanie Germanada worked all the time. At least it seemed that way. Even when she wasn't working, she was looking for work, which in itself was its own kind of work. Her friend, Lady Starlight, danced burlesque at the slipper room on Orchard and Stanton, close by Stephanie's apartment. Burlest dancers are often confused with strippers, but the difference between the two is significant.

The point of burlesque is, is to tease and entertain, to tell a story through the dancing on stage. The removal of clothing typically never gets fully nude. The point of stripping, or pole dancing, is often sex. Strippers, depending on local laws, remove as much clothing as possible, usually until they're fully nude, and they entice clients into back rooms for paid private shows and often more. But like stripping, burlese dancing is hard work. More often than not, The dancers work on stage in heels. It's a real workout, and it's intense,

which is not to suggest that though burlesque is considered more of an art form than stripping, the creeps aren't part of the gig. They are. And the sexual harassment can be just as stressful as the physical fatigue. None of this stops Stephanie Germinada from pushing Lady Starlight to get her an audition as a burlesque dancer at the slipper room. Stephanie needed the money, and perhaps the experience as well. These were the days before Stephanie became Lady Gaga.

These were the formative years. Stephanie was still defining herself as an artist. She was signed to a development deal with Rob Fusari, a successful producer who'd worked previously with Destiny's Child and Will Smith. This guaranteed Stephanie precisely nothing, however. She had no record deal, not yet, so every bit of her energy was focused on creating a demo with Fusari that would net her one. The fact that she was a record deal.

involved in an on-again, off-again romantic relationship with her producer, only made this time in her life more messy. Stephanie made Lady Starlight proud. She nailed her slipper room audition, and soon the pair had their own show, the New York Street Revival and Trash Dance. The lights in the slipper room fade to black. The audience, a mix of downtown hipsters and bridge and tunnel herbs, all of them sipping cheap, overpriced beer and wine and watered down cocktails eagerly awaits the show. And then, Queen's Radio Gaga explodes from the speakers. And there she is, a dancer like they've never seen.

Five foot two, but commanding nonetheless. Her hair is black, chopped bangs, teased out over her shoulders. She's in fishnets and panties and grinding to Queen. which transitions effortlessly into a song the audience doesn't recognize, but vibes with nonetheless. It's one of Stephanie's originals, electric kiss. As the show progresses, Stephanie strips down to just her panties and pasties. And the show is Trey Rock and Roll, which is to also say it's dirty and slutty.

And the audience is enthralled. The club's owner is happy, but he knows what's coming. and that would be jealousy. The other girls aren't going to stand for this much attention being heathed upon one dancer. The discord is going to lead to changes, and he knows he'll soon have to fire Stephanie, whose star is clearly too big for the slipper room,

which he does. Traipsing home through the grime of the Lower East Side, Stephanie, with her big 80s metal hair and leotard and go-go boots, is gawked at and mocked by some neighborhood boys who mistakenly take her for a sex worker. She takes it in stride, unlocking her Stanton Street apartment building door to head in for a much-needed shower.

The water is hot, the steam is thick. Her body seems to melt with satisfaction under the shower's pressure. And then, a noise. A clanging. What the hell is that? Stephanie whips back the shower curtain, and she swears she sees the outline

of a body escaping from her bathroom door, doorway through her tiny apartment. She grabs a towel and gets out of the shower. Motherfuckers! Those neighborhood boys, the shits followed her home. And somehow they jimmed her door and worked their pervy asses into her apartment to sneak a peek of her, naked in the shower. It was a gross invasion of privacy. One that, like her experience burlesque dancing, no doubt helped shape the songs she was currently demoing.

songs that would eventually appear on her debut album, The Fame, specifically her song, Paporazzi, which is both a devotion to and a critique of fame. The influence of Lady Gaga's apprenticeship on the Lower East Side on her art is immense. You can still feel the burlesque influence in her music, as recently as her latest 2005 Grammy-nominated album, Mayhem.

Perhaps more significant is, the camp influenced Gaga pulled out for her iconic arrival at the Met in 2019. Choosing as one of her four outfits, a fishnet and panties number, with bangs but minus the teased hair, to elevate burlesque into high fashion. Her nostalgic return to her burlesque influence came, mind you, after she obtained true pop icon status by turning in a critical and commercial star performance on the big screen opposite Bradley Cooper in the blockbuster remake of Judy Garland's and then Barbara Streisand's, a star was born. But back in the mid-aughts on the LES,

Stephanie Germanado was still trying to find herself amid the crime and grime of Lower Manhattan. For starters, she needed a stage name. Stephanie Germanado wasn't going to cut it. Her father had done a lot for her career. He used his connections to secure her early gigs, paid for piano lessons, negotiated her contract with Rob Fusari,

even paid for her Stanton Street apartment, but he hadn't given her a stage name at birth as Madonna's father had. Queen's Radio Gaga wasn't just a song Stephanie danced to. It was a song she was obsessed with, so much so that her producer began playfully calling her Radio Gaga. And one day her producer Rob reached out to Stephanie via text. Radio Gaga, meet you at the studio at noon. But Rob's phone auto-corrected his message from Radio Gaga,

to Lady Gaga. And that was that. Stephanie Germanada had a new name. That's if you believe her version of her origin story. There's another Lady Gaga origin story from back in those days. A story that doesn't involve cute rom-com rated text message anecdotes. A story that instead involves murder. On October 5th, 2018, a major motion picture entitled

a star is born, co-starring that by this time massively successful pop star Lady Gaga was released. On YouTube, a video promoting the film prompted this comment from a user and I quote, and then on the 10-year anniversary

of her suicide, Lady Gaga releases a movie about an aspiring pop star who benefits from using the look and sound of another star who was driven to kill himself for the sake of her career. Okay. And what the hell is this all about? That's what you might be asking yourself. Or if you're a massive Gaga fan,

you might have been asking yourself this back in 2019. Who's suicide? Exactly. Exactly who is this YouTube commentator talking about? The digital conversation swiftly moved over to Reddit, where one commentator added in response to the YouTube comment, yeah, like taking her song, changing one letter and branding it as hers, while basically also stealing her music style and fashion style as well taken on by Gaga right after she sacrificed her buddy for it all. Another user chimes in with, on the other hand, Gaga's adoption of her friend's style

after her sudden death might just be how she's coping with losing a close friend. It might be her way of keeping her friend alive in her heart. But this sober reasoning is quickly torpedoed by yet another commenter who says, way I heard it, her friend actually killed Lady Gaga and has been wearing her skin for the last couple of years.

So who is this friend. Who suddenly died? Who killed herself? Who is Lady Gaga being accused by conspiracy theorists on the internet of murdering after stealing both her music and style to obtain fame? That friend of Lady Gaga's would be Lena Morgana. Lena Morgana was more than a friend to Lady Gaga.

She was an artistic collaborator. The two of them worked together alongside producer Rob Fusari during Gaga's early demo days. In pictures of the two from that time, they do indeed resemble one another with a similar sense of fashion and attitude. But only one aspiring artist became a star. The other one, Lena Morgana, would be dead before Lady Gaga released her first album, before her first single made the charts, before her first major music videos were ever

released. One of those videos for the song Paparazzi shows Lady Gaga being thrown to her death from a building. The video was released in May 2009. Seven months before that, Lena Morgana was found dead, thrown from the roof of the Staten Island Hotel. I'm Jake Brennan, and this episode of Disgraceland is to be continued. The Scraiceland was created by yours truly and is produced in partnership with double Elvis. Credits for this episode

can be found on the show notes page at disgracelandpod.com. Rate and review the show and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, and Facebook at DisgracelandPod and on YouTube at YouTube.com slash at Disgracelandpod.

Rock a roll.