I so, so wanted to get this post up yesterday on Halloween because, really, what's scarier than the above image and all that it throws in your face? The bad wig, the bedazzled hat, the recycled picture with a bad hypnosis-meets-downward-spiral symbol, the title's threat (promise?) of a mental, physical or sonic blackout - it all screams "Boo!"
You know what's scarier than all of the above? The fact that I bought my first Britney album at the exact same moment that I could not be more sick of hearing her name. Embracing my inner trash-pop afficionado is one thing, giving money to an artist who will only spend it on Funions and sequined thongs is another.
I've been hesitant...no, completely uninterested, really, in buying Britney's earlier albums. The first 3 were clearly just crappy platforms for 1 or 2 good singles. In the Zone, however, seemed more grown-up and more in touch with what people who aren't 13-year-old girls actually want to listen to. But I couldn't get over the feeling that her newly-explicit sexuality was just a tired choice by an unimaginative singer unable to find any road for herself other than Madonna's well-worn sex-parade route.
But now, here she is, with bad wigs and no custody of her kids, plus what seems like a complete lack of interest in actually putting any effort into her music (hence the spacey VMA performance and lazy "Gimme More" video). After years of working her ass off to make sure everyone loved her - tweens, old men and every record-company-approved demographic in-between - the fact that Britney now doesn't give a shit could have produced a cringe-worthy album. It's what her fans dreaded and her critics (and, hey, everyone else) expected.
Instead, miraculously, the opposite happened: Britney's bad-girl, I-don't-care, I-don't-need-Timbaland-or-Timberlake attitude has produced a hot, balls-out album that's sometimes weird (in a good way), sometimes generic (also in a good way - more on that below) and almost always eager to shake its ass (obviously good).
There's nothing she could say that would shut up her critics or disperse the papparazi, so why not just get her dance on?
Most of the songs feature lyrics about how some Hot Guy has turned her on. Cool, fine, whatever - that's pretty standard. But within the typical girl-gets-boy, girl-rides-boy-like-Bronco scenarios is a pretty bold Britney who's obviously not interested in restraint for her critics' sake. Despite attacks on her weight, she's confident ("Get Naked (I Got a Plan)": "I'm not ashamed of my beauty"). Despite constant attacks on her thin voice, she's co-opting black gospel culture even though it highlights how reedy her instrument is ("Hot as Ice": "Can I get a witness?/"Preacher, preacher, I'm a teacher you can learn"). And even her porn-star growls are tempered with some sweet sentimentality, such as in "Heaven on Earth" when, for the first time, her naked, unmanipulated, unmultiplied voice declares "I'm in love with you."
But a pop star is only as good as her producers, and Blackout's crew (Timbaland protogé Danja, Bloodyshy & Avant, The Neptunes, etc.) seems to enjoy surrounding Britney's breathy moans with fat synths and unexpected extras. A Spanish acoustic guitar scaling up and down the rollicking "Ooh Ooh Baby" literally makes Britney giggle. "Break the Ice," otherwise a perfectly good club banger, never bothers recovering after its break-it-down bridge. And the baroque male vocal dominating "Get Naked" turns the song into a creepy, almost haunting ode to - duh - stripping.
The apex of the album is "Freakshow," a song that lives up to its title. First: Britney raps! And it's not awful - how freaky! Second, for a song about Britney's freak factor, there's something strangely musical theater about it all. It's like if J.J. Fad wrote a song for the "Rocky Horror" soundtrack. This is a perfect example of a song walking the fine line (if Britney didn't snort it) between so-bad-it's-great and just genuinely great pop.
All this outside-the-box thinking would reek of a post-Gwen/Fergie, weird-just-because-she-can viewpoint if Blackout wasn't rooted so firmly in pure dance music. "Radar,""Gimme More" and "Toy Solider" are all sassy, sexy, perfectly crafted club anthems. The only misfire is "Perfect Lover." It's a throwaway track that Britney - and Danja - seemed to forget about.
There's only two songs that showcase self-awareness and reflection and, as it has been pointed out by everyone, Britney didn't even co-write them. (She, in fact, co-wrote very little this time around) "Piece of Me"'s lyrics brilliantly wrap up everything Britney (and we, the audience) think of herself: "Don't matter if I step on the scene or sneak away to the Phillipines/they're still gon' take pictures of my derriere in the magazine." There's a point here: what is she supposed to do to protect herself at this point? Even if she cleaned up and reverted to her old, perky, bubbly self or escaped to a country cabin somewhere, we'd still find her and follow her every move. Closing the album is the only midtempo song in the bunch, the melancholy "Why Should I Be Sad" (too...easy...must...resist...so...many...answers). It's like 11 straight songs of dance music wore down her guard. Now all of a sudden we're getting lyrics like "my friends said you would play me, but I just said they're crazy." Britney's that much cooler for only devoting a single song to her ex, and it's a fairly gorgeous ballad at that.
She's aware, she's vulnerable, but, as she (or the songwriters) says, it's time for her to move along. Luckily, the attitude she's bringing with her - the attitude that has failed her so much in the media - works so well on record.
Also check out: Gimme More, Britney. Please. I Beg You.
And: 3 Reasons Why I Love Kelly Clarkson.