Brit's 'Femme Fatale': Plenty fun but nothing fresh

By Edna Gundersen, USA TODAY

Britney Spears has never failed to galvanize the public during her clumsily choreographed journey from Mouseketeer to video sex kitten to umbrella-swinging, head-shaving, rehab-hopping tabloid bait.

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With seventh studio album Femme Fatale (* * * out of four), attention finally may settle on Brit's respectable, if not extraordinary, abilities as a pop artist.

Shunning most media and hidden from paparazzi, Spears now surfaces as a sleekly manufactured musical brand, with its new sugary, addictive product line rolled out one mouth-watering bonbon at a time through leaks and official singles.

The teasing buildup toward Tuesday's release of Femme Fatale, now streaming on AOL, isn't a matter of hype over value. Spears delivers the goods. That is to say, she and her posse of skilled producers, particularly Max Martin and Dr. Luke, have crafted a trendy, infectious and engaging ballad-free batch of electro-pop tunes.

Spears isn't spearheading a beat revolution here. None of the 12 songs (16 on the deluxe edition) are groundbreaking or challenging. This is synthetic, assembly-line dance music that pulls the strongest elements from 2007's Blackout and 2008's Circus.

Spears' appeal can be baffling. Her voice, swamped by the fastidious production, is thin and colorless.

Still, her babyish coo and seductive breathiness prove appealing on such pop-tastic thumpers as Hold It Against Me and Inside Out.

Femme's flaws, none fatal, crop up in reheated Eurotrash beats, scattered inane lyrics and bombs like the annoyingly dumb Big Fat Bass and annoyingly syrupy Seal It With a Kiss. Mostly, Femme unfurls a buzzy, muscular disco party likely to give Lady Gaga's upcoming disc some noisy competition this summer.

What it's not: a substantial contribution to pop culture. Essentially built by committee, Femme Fatale may light a fire under Rihanna and Katy Perry, but it won't burn eternally in pop's memory.

A phenomenon without phenomenal talent, Spears has beguiled and bewildered the planet since 1999, drawing persistent comparisons to Madonna, dance-pop's original femme fatale. Spears feels like a creation (check out her mechanical, lethargic delivery in the Hold It Against Me video).

The Material Girl is a self-creation. Of course, on the dance floor, it's immaterial.

>Download:Inside Out, Till the World Ends, Criminal, Hold It Against Me

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