Britney Spears
'Blackout'
B-
Bold Brit
Britney Spears never possessed impressive pipes. Never was a clever wordsmith. Never could offer much but easy-to-swallow pop candy. No surprise, then, that in the years leading up to "Blackout," the media-whore matriarch's name has been splashed across the news – not 'cause of her marginal talent, but because she's screwier than – uh, OK, there's really no solid metaphor to sum up her state.
Here's the shocker: Spears' electro-pop, futuristic fifth album isn't the mess the paper-thin-voiced vixen is. Swimming in crunk dance grooves, Spears' voice box sometimes drowns in the top-notch-produced numbers, which boost distorted synthesizers, electronically-handled vocals and snappy drum beats. Yes – a perfect soundtrack to a shit-faced night of hooha-flashing diddlybop. But even sexually-laced lyrics – being uncontrollable, a freak and a crazy mo-fo – conjure up an image-tattered Spears; something she doesn't seem too eager to erase.
Now, for average celebs – ya know, the ones who wear panties, don't shave their heads, and drive with their baby in a car seat – this wouldn't matter. For Spears, it sent her image plummeting into the dance floor. Unlike her bubblegum pop days – when numbers became instant sing-a-longs – this breezy, 43-minute sonic orgasm brims with Spears' cooing, moaning, panting and sighing. Minus the spoken-intro reminder that, "It's Britney, bitch" – like we could forget? – "Gimme More" is a glossy, booty-shaking jam. The following 11 tracks never sleep, revving through an after-hours party – the glitchy "Piece of Me," sex-thumping "Break the Ice" and nonsensical, pop-sounding "Hot as Ice" (enough with the ice!).
Never once does she look for fans' remorse for her naughty shenanigans. Hell, she never even allows us to deviate our attention from anything other than her loopy antics – calling out the paparazzi, recalling her beaver-oopsy, and reminding people she's "Miss Bad Media Karma." None of those references, ironically, penned by Spears. She just sits on the sidelines – waiting for her turn to offer some sexy sigh. For a talentless chump, "Blackout" is the sorta album that belongs to her infinite entourage – to whom she obviously owes her entire liquor cabinet. Or a vag-slip encore.
Celine Dion
'Taking Chances'
B
Viva la diva!
Celine Dion and cool: Likely two things that won't pop up in one sentence (except for this one). Her name alone conjures nightmarish memories of mawkish mush – anyone tired of "My Heart Will Go On"? Thought so – and ape-like, upper-register chest pounding. Hard to believe it's been almost five years since the classy songstress became a sorta-Vegas-showgirl and concentrated on being a mama (a hip one at that; check out the cleavage-pouring album cover!). So – what's a long-time-gone diva (see: hefty hairpiece) to do to maintain her wholesome, motherly image but still remain relevant after 30-something albums?
Phone a mishmash of collaborators, from pop-mastermind Linda Perry to R&B artist Ne-Yo. Toss in an oldie-but-goodie Heart cover song. Release a sweeping, electric-guitar-laced lead single – appropriately titled "Taking Chances" – that'll become a staple for one, two or five ABC dramas. Oh, and ripping off a Beyonce beat (on "Eyes On Me") can't hurt, either.
Yep, Dion goes R&B, and gospel, and rock – and basically does everything record producer Clive Davis probably wished Kelly Clarkson had done for her latest sloppy CD – on a 16-track smorgasbord. To hear the Canadian chanteuse rip through Heart's "Alone," the drums and string section swelling as her unweathered voice shakes the walls, is still an aural treat – and an unpredictable one, to boot. The same goes for the album-launching title track, a number that emerges as typical Dion fare with its sparse-guitar strumming. Then, though, it does a 180, quickly plunging into a sleek midtempo rocker.
Wailing over electric guitar and pounding drums is Dion, sounding less like herself – a plus for some! – as her voice soars, capturing the tune's letting-go essence. "That's Just the Woman in Me" dons a raw-voiced Dion over a bluesy beat, while she pours pain into gothic-sounding "This Time" and soul into the Aretha-like, gospel-y "New Dawn." And it works.
Who knew the woman notorious for being the star of the Schmaltz Circus, who recently gushed in support of the queers – even after being crushed by a dreamy (but gay) guy in a '90s Dion remake, "Ziggy" (See YouTube. Now.) – would gamble her reemerging career with a musical Monopoly board? Guess Vegas really did help her take chances. Now – that's cool.
Carrie Underwood
'Carnival Ride'
B-
Carrie on
Carrie Underwood reigns as the supreme 20-something Southern sweetie – with her amiable aura, safe and soaring churchy songs, and irresistible pearly-white smile. That makes her sterling, post-"American Idol" career – where her debut has sold 6 million and her latest landed in the No. 1 spot – something that will withstand time. Even with a sub-par sophomore effort. Though songwriting rises above album uno, "Carnival Ride" is a blueprint of "Some Hearts." Syrupy sap? Of course (see: power-vocal sing-a-long "So Small" and generic war weeper "Just a Dream"). Semi-twangy rockers? You betcha (check out "Flat on the Floor" and "Get out of This Town"). Pooch passion? Um, yep. Fed up with PlayStation-obsessed guys, Underwood slyly states in the poorly-penned and just-plain-ill-fit "The More Boys I Meet": "I close my eyes, and I kiss that frog, each time finding the more boys I meet, the more I love my dog." Yeah-yeah, we get it: You're into bestiality, Carrie. Next time, though, keep that to yourself.
Annie Lennox
'Songs of Mass Destruction'
A-
'Mass'-ive magnificence
Someone help Annie Lennox. Give her some Xanax, or take her out for some mud baths and a deep-tissue massage. Not just for her benefit. Mine, too. She made me want to inhale peanut cluster after peanut cluster – and a couple of bottles of pinot grigio – after 2004's downer "Bare." And now, she's at it again. To some degree, "Songs of Mass Destruction" isn't like attending a funeral or watching "The Hours" on repeat. Sure, "Dark Road," the grade-A album-opener, was a peculiar first-single choice – considering the dreary motif and even darker video. And "Smithereens" and "Lost" dig the dark hole even deeper. Luckily, there's refuge in "Sing," a heavingly-multi-artist (Madonna! Melissa! Celine! Fergie!?) HIV/AIDS anthem; the synth-heavy, Eurythmics-sounding "Coloured Bedspread;" and woot-woot rocker "Ghosts in My Machine." These might be "Songs of Mass Destruction" – but it's hard not to peg them as songs of massive magnficence
The Pipettes
'We Are The Pipettes'
B+
Girl power pizzazz
So – the Spice Girls are back. And it looks like they could face off against some serious chick competition: A British trio responsible for a retro resurgence that'll cause feet-shufflin', head-boppin' and top-of-the-lungs warbling. The buoyant numbers, like the hand-clap-heavy "Pull Shapes" or the breezy "I Love You," could've been throwaways. Could've been done before. And they have – to some degree. The sound is totally '60s, but the polka-dotted girlie group – Gwenno, Rosay and RiotBecki – add feminist-lyrical pizzazz and saucy statements to songs like "One Night Stand" and "Why Did You Stay?" Girl power, all the way!
KT Tunstall
'Drastic Fantastic'
B
Almost 'Fantastic'
Do the time warp. KT Tunstall's sophomore LP, an almost-bright throwback to late-'90s Lilith Fair folk/pop, is a mixed-bag of guitar ditties (The Cranberries-sounding "Little Favours") and beautified ballads, like the dreamy "Someday Soon" – a breezy, vocally-layered number. Capitalizing off of that infectious "Devil Wears Prada" pop gem, "Suddenly I See," she channels a similar – albeit less effective – Latin-flavored first-single, "Hold On." Look past the minor flaws – some blah hooks and conventional style – and, really, this follow-up is every bit worth holding on to.
Reba McEntire
'Reba Duets'
C
Dull duets
Star power teems on Reba McEntire's "Duets" album. What a shame – with a wasted-talent roster including Justin Timberlake, Faith Hill and Carole King – there's minimal musical magic. Get two minutes into Don Henley-penned "Break Each Other's Hearts Again" – and the dull ditty will cause some serious eyelid exercises. Save for the Kelly Clarkson pairing on her own "Because of You," which is the rousing vocal equivalent of a boxing match, the catchy-but-cliched "Faith in Love" and the powerhouse LeAnn Rimes coupling on "When You Love Someone Like That," "Duets" is a lazy LP whose fluffy filler and so-so songwriting make it as listenable as the Republican president McEntire supports: Yep, that one.
