The good news about Britney Spears’s new album, Blackout, is it isn’t nearly as terrible as you think it is going to be. The other news is that her appearance in said album is pretty much inconsequential. Spears remains waiting for a true comeback after dashing several opportunities for a break from several sources. She has a particular talent for throwing things back in other people’s faces (some dickwad on CNN mused ‘Why can’t Britney get a break?’ well dumb-shit, the VMAs were a huge break and she 86ed that with her drugged up performance as a sausage-costumed stumble-bum). For the meantime, she seems determined to destroy her career and her own family at the expense of her own paranoid or drug-fueld illness.
The smartest thing Britney’s label has done is collect a team of producers to constrain her thin vocals to the background while they get to have fun with overproducing the songs into oblivion.
Initially Britney’s career began with her being a Lolita-type cyborg copping themes and motifs from barely legal teen porn to the delight of pederasts and young tween girls everywhere. With Blackout, Spears makes the full transition to femme-bot (MILF-bot? MILF-borg?) as her voice is pushed through the latest hardware and filters.
Gimme More – This is very weak song and any needs for songs of demand I think should be re-routed to Lords of Acid’s Gimme Gimme. I like the beat though. Lyrics suck suck suck suck.
Piece of Me – Britney muses on her lack of media karma and those un-fair papparazzi determined to catch her every deviation from social norms for magazine sales (a nice echo of Michael Jackson’s own victim/whore complex). Still, this song remains my favorite because Britney’s voice is over produced to a C3PO sheen. Her apperance on this song is completely optional. I like the metalic treble kick that sounds like her career being repeatly thrown against a wall and porn-esque adomnitions of pleasure coughed up on drywall.
Radar – A ‘Tainted Love’ motif married with a little rave and boppy beat but very boring lyrics. The lyrics of the whole album are pretty shitty for the most part.
Break the Ice – Still weak but catchy. Most of the album is catchy. Lots of panting.
Heaven on Earth – This song seems out of place with a recitative and Animotion type accompaniment.
Get Naked (I Got a Plan) – Pointless with lots of slobbering and sighing.
Freakshow – I like this song somewhat. Cool, clipped beat ruined by over-thickened vocals.
Toy Soldier – A bit Beyonce-esque.
Hot as Ice – Starts nice with an acoustic beat but all the fun is stripped out by a chorus of YEAH YEAHs that add up to little.
Ooh Ooh Baby – Meh.
Perfect Lover – Again, good beat but terrible lyrics and a stacking of ‘uh-huhs’ that annoy rather than endear.
Why Should I Be Sad – I didn’t realize how thin Spears voice was until I heard this song which is a bit like Janet Jackson’s attempts at letting her real voice stickout past the Jimmy Jams.
Like I said, Britney is completely hot-swappable out of all of these songs. You could fit Jennifer Lopez’s half-octave in any of these or Janet Jackson in earlier times or even Madonna in an experimental mood.
In my mind, the high-point of the Britney Spears adventure remains the spare bass line of I’m a Slave for U with the dissonant chords, horn-dog lyrics and a moistened, hump-a-licious video.
No, I didn’t buy the album. I borrowed it from a friend.
It has to be at least 85 degrees in this office.
On October 28, the Pope will beatify (certify as Blessed) several martyrs of the Spanish Civil War, among them Gabino Olaso Zabala. Only thing is, Zabala is known to have participated in the torture of a fellow priest. Disturbingly, some Catholics are rallying behind a man who never publicly regretted his abusive past.
Big ‘get well soons’ to Ron’s mom who was called yesterday morning that they had a kidney donor for her. She was rushed into surgery last night and came out around 2am. Ron called this morning to say she’s already eating breakfast so I figure that’s a good sign.
Are you ever shocked by how long your eyebrows can grow? That you’ll have one that has been growing horizontally so you haven’t been able to notice it but then you are twiddling your brow while you’re watching Stephen Colbert and then you’re completely grossed out at this inch long mammoth brow-hair sprouting from your skull? Me too.
WWII vets involved in interrogating captured Nazis are pissed off at the current conduct:
Several of the veterans, all men in their 80s and 90s, denounced the controversial techniques. And when the time came for them to accept honors from the Army’s Freedom Team Salute, one veteran refused, citing his opposition to the war in Iraq and procedures that have been used at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba. “We got more information out of a German general with a game of chess or Ping-Pong than they do today, with their torture,” said Henry Kolm, 90, an MIT physicist who had been assigned to play chess in Germany with Hitler’s deputy, Rudolf Hess.