[Jive Records]

Pop superstar Britney Spears commences her newest album, curiously titled Blackout, with the proud proclamation, “It’s Britney, bitch!” Now, whether this can be viewed as her vote of confidence in this newest musical discharge, or simply the ramblings of the rich, famous and clinically insane is up to the listener—the fact of the matter is that, as far as I am concerned, the collection in question is the product of a self-aware robo-musician who knows exactly what the people want and, more importantly, exactly how much she can afford to give.

The 12 official tracks (as well as three bonus tracks available on the deluxe version of the disc) that Blackout comprises create something of a rollercoaster-like listening experience. Spears’ latest single, “Gimme More,” really shouldn’t be the opening track, although it was understandably chosen because of the arresting “It’s Britney, bitch” introduction. A better choice would have been the arena-pop throwback “Break the Ice,” a song that is the reminiscent of her early years as the bubblegum princess of pop. Nevertheless, “Gimme More” is a decent little ditty, especially in comparison to the mind-numbingly terrible “Get Naked” (enough said) and “Toy Soldier” (don’t ask).

Blackout does throw at us a few standout tracks, including the self-referential “Piece of Me,” in which the singer cites herself “Mrs. Oh my god that Britney’s shameless”—exhibit A for the defense of Britney Spears, a woman who just may understand America’s perception of her as a lunatic, an unfit mother, a social train-wreck—the list of infractions goes on and on. “Radar” and “Heaven on Earth” are fun, quick dance beats that don’t disappoint. (On the latter Spears takes a page out of the Paris Hilton Book of Musical Theory, which states that the critics can’t nail you if you keep it in a three-note range.) Neither song breaks ground that hasn’t been treaded upon before by better performers such as Kylie Minogue, Madonna or even Spears herself earlier in her career, but the bottom line is that the album as a whole is not the complete disaster one might expect.

While Spears’ musical talents have never quite been out of this world, her voice is unfortunately at its least impressive on Blackout. Despite her mastery of the art of breathy, sub-par delivery, there comes a time when a listener wants more than a computer singing to him. Lyrically, a majority of the tracks appear to have been written by an oversexed Cabbage Patch Kid who considers “If ya like what ya see/And your curiousity/Let your mind roam free/Won’t you pay attention please?” to be the cutting edge in hot-’n’-bothered pop music.

Despite its shortcomings, this latest release is something of a triumph for Spears, for a variety of reasons. The first is, while the disc seems all but devoid of vocal or lyrical talent, it stands as a relative success in the Spears canon. Second, the fact that she is still sufficiently culturally relevant to release successful albums after almost 10 years in the industry, as opposed to “writing” unnecessary tell-all books or publicly coming out of the closet in an attempt to suck the marrow of the last remains of celebrity ossification, a la Lance Bass, is impressive. Third, and most importantly, Spears still somehow manages to come off as sexy, despite the two marriages, the two kids, the one shaven head, the countless public outbursts—not to mention a vagina seen ’round the world.

Is Blackout a “good” album? Not really. Is it “bad”? No, it isn’t necessarily bad either. I guess the only way to describe it would be to say that it is, for lack of a better description, Britney. Bitch.