Ear-bleeding psychedelia, math-pop and a Libertine descend on east London
turn the perceived chaos of Britney’s transitition to adulthood – she’s 27 next week! – into sleazy, raunchy, dirrty adult-pop product.
Which would be fine, except for one large problem: Britney Spears is quite simply rubbish at being sexy. Her voice – treated and autotuned to within an inch of its life throughout – still sounds like that of the Mouseketeer who brought us ‘…Baby One More Time’, with every breathy “Mmmm… yeah!” and all the oh-so-naughty lyrics, such as the ones above, sounding forced and unconvincing. Of course, on a large number of the tracks here she has the solidly cool-sounding (no doubt expensive) backdrop of futur’n’b pop over which to wail other people’s words about just how difficult and mad =her life is (“It’s like Groundhog Day,” she claimed in an interview recently).
Truth is, though, she sounds most at home on sickly sweet, maudlin closer ‘My Baby’. Which might just say it all about who she really is.
Masterminded by frontman Bradford Cox, the freaky Atlanta band’s seventh album is bruised and brilliant
Emily Blunt stars in a tightly wound and constantly surprising thriller
The ex-Smith proves his greatness on a spiky live album
10 Tracks You Need To Hear This Week (9/10/2015)