Right back at you, fellow 2011 survivor!
I_CANNOT_USE_REAL_WORDS_PROPERLY_ that performance. The demented vocals in the verse, the audible breathing, the live instrumentation hitting like a sledgehammer, the out-of-tune KLONK! of the piano as she mercilessly stabs it with ha heel on the way to a higher platform, the actually-****-quite-a-bit execution of the choreography I just noticed on that rewatch. So much window dressing for such a terrible song, and it paid off. Well done, hag.
When will the other girls, though? Titty Perry, the prisoner of Solange, that most inanimate Barbadian helipad and that hologram they have doing Britney's memorial shows stay messed, depressed, and most of all creatively bereft in the face of the album of our generation. Monsters up, indeed.