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BRITNEY SPEARS
Oops, I Did It Again (Jive)
Reviewed by Bill Holmes
It's tempting to just go ahead and bash Britney Spears for her success, or at least blame the entire over-hyped girl-pop craze on her. You cannot escape her videos, her songs blare from every teeny-pop station around the world, and the record companies are getting hernias trying to replicate her again and again and again. Yes, it's annoying that every quote attributed to her ends in an exclamation point! Yes, the "I don't think I'm playing up the Lolita angle" quotes are insultingly inaccurate. But the girl just turned eighteen years old, and when this whole thing exploded she was just sixteen, for god's sake. Think back to just how cool and hip were you at that age, and tell me you wouldn't have taken a ride on this whirlwind if given the chance.
No, if you want to blame anyone, blame the machinery that makes all this stuff work. Targeting a very specific demographic, The Britney Machine is quite adept at drilling the dance-pop needle into the veins of its cash-laden pool of people raised on flying-wedge dance formations and "beats" instead of "hooks". How do you keep 'em down on the farm after they've seen Paris? Trick question! Don't show them Paris, and you'll have nothing to worry about.
It's also hard to bash Spears because Oops, I Did It Again is so over-produced, I have no idea if there is any talent under the gloss and sheen anyway. Play this CD and the next five records you hear will sound like acapella by comparison. And even when I hear something catchy during "Lucky" or the title track and try to imagine them stripped down into songs, Spears checks in with some odd spoken-word mantra or an unnatural vocal inflection that snaps my head back into place. And worse, the record is geared to be the soundtrack to a stage presentation, so it's hard to take it seriously when you know that live vocals will be skipped much of the time because the performer needs to focus on the dance moves. Britney Unplugged? I don't think that's possible.
There are a couple of giggly girl moments on the record (like "Dear Diary") that sound hilariously cheesy and babyish; maybe in her Mouseketeer days friends would giggle over whether they got a kiss, but eighteen year old girls usually dish a lot deeper than that. It only makes her sound more coquettish when she then sings "Can't Make You Love Me" or the Mutt Lange/Shania Twain contribution "Don't Let Me Be The Last To Know". Mutt Lange, Diane Warren…is there anyone NOT jumping on this gravy train?
Face it, it is what it is - pre-pubescent puppy love girly pop. Max Martin and all the other puppeteers know exactly what they're doing as they seed an audience who are desperate enough to accept The Spice Girls and stupid enough to not know that 2ge+her is a satire. Hell, they can even have Britney record the worst version of "Satisfaction" I have ever heard (and I have been to a LOT of bars over the years) and walk away unscathed. Bullet-proof, baby. Ka-ching!
www.jiverecords.com
© 2000 - Bill Holmes