Banned
Member Since: 11/24/2009
Posts: 61,404
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The CoS BJ review is amazing.
It opens with them trashing her for always having been an empty, talentless puppet:
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Half-baked theory: Britney Spears has never been famous. Every time you’ve ever talked about Britney Spears, you weren’t talking about “Britney Spears, self-directed person with agency and individuality,” but rather you were talking about “Britney Spears, avatar for the 21st century canned and manufactured pop sound.” The former you knew and know nothing about, while within the latter you could find the DNA for most of the pop stars of the post-Y2K world (and, for those that you couldn’t, they positioned themselves in direct opposition to the trends Spears started, and were thus equally indebted to it). Which, having said all that, you’d hope would mean that Britney Jean, the now-veteran singer’s eighth record, represents the “real” Britney, that self-directed person. But, it turns out that Britney Jean is as much a construct as Britney Spears ever was.
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And it ends with them calling her a talentless, pathetic trend-chaser:
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It’s all stuff that everyone else has proved makes the radio, without ever doing it better than the others that do it. As “Passenger”, serviceable though it may be, apes Katy Perry, “Work Bitch” apes Lady Gaga. Ditto “Tik Tik Boom” and Ke$ha. The entirety of Britney Jean sounds like it’s chasing success instead of demanding it. It functions as little other than a new album cycle to keep paychecks rolling in for Spears and her coworkers.
The artists that Britney Jean apes sell their original songs because their music is reflective of their personalities, or at least the personalities they want to portray to the public. But, Britney Spears, or rather Britney Jean, seems like she’s running down sounds and forcing her attitudes to fit them. Nothing on the record comes across as natural, and it’s not until the album’s iTunes bonus tracks — “Brightest Morning Star” and “Now That I Found You” in particular — that Spears sounds like she’s singing for herself. But, on the album proper, neither the pop figurehead nor the real woman behind it can be found.
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The worst pop album of the year.
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I'd be too with those Damita Jean numbers
