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Professional Reviews from Britney Spears Albums:
 ...Baby One More Time (1999)
At the beginning
of the '90s, teen currency shifted from bubblegum'n'Tiger Beat to
grunge'n'Maximum Rock & Roll. Although it may have been pushed from the
spotlight, teen pop hadn't died — it, in a way, went underground, spending time
on the fringes of pop culture. One of the leading lights of the exiled teen
brigade was The New Mickey Mouse Club. For several years, it toiled away on the
Disney Network, earning a small fan base — but, more importantly, providing a
launchpad for several careers, including that of Britney Spears. Like her fellow
NMMC alumni 'N Sync, Spears shot to stardom in the late '90s, just as she was on
the verge of late adolescence. By that time, everything old was new again.
Albums like her debut, ...Baby One More Time, were topping the charts as if they
were Hangin' Tough, which is only appropriate since it sounded as if it could
have been cut in 1989, not 1999. ...Baby One More Time has the same blend of
infectious, rap-inflected dance-pop and smooth balladry that propelled the New
Kids and Debbie Gibson, due to the Backstreet Boys' producer, Max Martin, who is
also the mastermind behind Spears' debut. He has a knack for catchy hooks,
endearing melodies, and engaging Euro-dance rhythms, all of which are best heard
on the hits: the ingenious title track, "Sometimes," "(You Drive Me) Crazy," and
the utterly delightful, bubblegum-ragga album track "Soda Pop." Like many teen
pop albums, ...Baby One More Time has its share of well-crafted filler, but the
singles, combined with Britney's burgeoning charisma, make this a pretty great
piece of fluff.
Reviewed by Stephen Thomas Erlewine at All Music
Guide
Oops...I Did It Again (2000)
Britney Spears carries on the classic archetype of the
rock & roll teen queen, the dungaree doll, the angel baby who just has to
make a scene. She has nothing to do with Lolita and everything to do with
Ann-Margret's pink capri pants in Bye Bye Birdie. Buddy Holly called her Peggy
Sue, Ricky Nelson called her Mary Lou, the Beach Boys called her Barbara Ann,
and her boyfriend called her at Beechwood 4-5789. It's her party and she'll
grind if she wants to. Shooting at the walls of heartache, bang bang, she is the
warrior. Britney is a solo starlet working the girl-group shoop shoop, and if
she's no Dusty Springfield yet, she's up there with Lesley Gore, Connie Francis
and Claudine Clark. Oops! . . . I Did It Again is fantastic pop cheese, with
much better song-factory hooks than 'N Sync or BSB get. The usual Swedish
suspects provide sugary disco bombast along with guest producers Rodney Jerkins
and Mutt Lange. In the terrific title hit, the music comes from Barbra
Streisand's "Woman in Love," the words evoke Morrissey circa "I Started
Something I Couldn't Finish," but that brutal growl is all Britney, articulating
a violently ambivalent sexual confusion her audience can relate to, kicking and
screaming for the right to figure out her desires before the world decides for
her. She's in the dressing room, trying on various styles of adult sexuality
that don't quite fit yet, and her fans know how that feels. As the Crystals used
to sing, girls can tell. You can hear the same fury in her brilliant version of
the Stones' "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" as she vandalizes the words ("how
white my shirts could be" becomes "how tight my skirt should be" -- perfect) and
snarls in libidinal frustration. Let it bleed, Miss B: Clearly it's just a
matter of time before Christina Aguilera strikes back with "Have You Seen Your
Mother, Britney, Standing in the Shadow?," followed by Jessica Simpson's "Under
My Thumb," Mandy Moore's "Ruby Tuesday" and the Backstreet Boys' "Back Street
Girl." That's the great thing about Oops! -- under the cheese surface, Britney's
demand for satisfaction is complex, fierce and downright scary, making her a
true child of rock & roll tradition.
Reviewed by Rob Sheffield
at Rolling Stone
 Britney (2001)
The title says it all — that this third album is
where it's all about Britney. Actually, the titles say it all: Britney is
"Overprotected," she pleads "I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman," tries to let us
all see "What It's Like to Be Me." All three songs are pivotal moments on
Britney Spears' third album, the record where she strives to deepen her persona
(not the same thing as her character, of course), making it more adult while
still recognizably Britney. That much was evident from the selection of the
first single, "I'm a Slave 4 U," a sultry Neptunes-produced salute to Prince
that is so far removed from the big, glitzy Max Martin productions that are her
signature that at first it sounds awkward, even wrong. As it grows, it sounds
like one of her best singles — a skittering, spare funk number that is a perfect
next move for her teasing, unformed sexiness. Such a departure seems to signal a
full album of surprises like that, especially when teamed with the
aforementioned title, but Britney isn't that bold — after it opens with the
Neptunes' retro-future funk, it delves right back into Martin territory with
"Overprotected." At first, that's a disappointment, but then the small, yet
significant, changes become apparent. Rhythmically and melodically, the whole
album is sharper, tougher than what came before. What used to be unabashedly
frothy has some disco grit, underpinned by Spears' spunky self-determination
that helps sell hooks that are already catchier, by and large, than those that
populated her previous two albums. While there's no denying that this
reinvention and statement of dogged individuality is no doubt a calculated move
(and a brilliant, timely one at that), there's no denying that it's effective,
in large part because Spears is committed to making this record work. She's
co-written more songs than ever before, and these are strong selections, whether
it's the hard-edged "Lonely," the sweet "That's Where You Take Me," or,
especially, the neo-disco "Anticipating," one of the pure delights on this
record. These are small steps forward — really, the most overt steps forward are
the collaborations with the Neptunes on "Slave" and "Boys," which are the
sexiest sounding cuts she ever did — but most of the Martin productions sound
fuller (particularly the Dido-written ballad "I'm Not a Girl"), and Rodney
Jerkins offers some welcome rhythmic invention on many of his contributions.
This isn't a perfect record — Martin stumbles on "Bombastic Love," Jerkins drops
the ball on "I Love Rock N Roll" (this year's entry of the now obligatory
cringe-inducing classic rock by Ms. Spears) — but it does sound like the work of
a star who has now found and refined her voice, resulting in her best record yet
(and rivaling Mandy Moore's eponymous album as the best teen-pop record yet
released). It's enough of a reinvention to suggest that Britney will know what
to do when the teen-pop phenomenon of 1999-2001 passes for
good.
Reviewed by Stephen Thomas Erlewine at All Music
Guide
In The Zone (2003)
Say goodbye to Britney the virginal tease, and say hello, bay-bee,
to Britney the freakazoid. None of that "not yet a woman" stuff this time
around. There's no question that Spears wants In the Zone to be erogenous, so
she lays on the heavy breathing and offers herself for hookups on and off the
dance floor. Madonna shows up in the album's first song, "Me Against the Music,"
as if endorsing Spears' foray into come-hither posing and club-land beats.
Nearly every song on In the Zone is a brittle, programmed rhythm track. This
time, Spears promises to follow through on her come-ons: "I'll let you touch me
if you want," she husks in the clever pop-dancehall "Showdown." High-risk
behavior is fine with Spears. In "Brave New Girl," she borrows Madonna's
"Material Girl" to praise a girl who goes out to get picked up. Spears succumbs
to sexy guys in "The Hook Up," "Breathe on Me," "(I Got That) Boom Boom" and
"Early Mornin'," which has throbbing Moby production. And if there's no lover
available, there's always "Touch of My Hand," an ode to masturbation. But the
harder Spears tries to be Madonna or Janet Jackson, the less convincing she is.
Her voice is so processed, its physicality almost disappears. R. Kelly can't
resist mocking her in his "Outrageous," letting her boast about "my sex drive"
and "my shopping sprees" with equal emphasis. In the Zone offers strip-club,
1-900 sex, accommodating and hollow. Beyond the glittering beats, Spears sounds
about as intimate as a blowup doll.
Reviewed by Jon Pareles at
Rolling Stone
 Greatest Hits : My Prerogative (2004)
It's hard to imagine that
five years have passed since a pert and pouty 16 year old Britney skipped onto
the scene. Now, with four albums, a film, a divorce, another husband and a
faux-Sapphic snog stashed under her belt-cum-miniskirt, she's established
herself as quite the grande-dame of pop. Not surprising then that a Greatest
Hits album has found its way onto the pre-Christmas shelves, waiting to be
snapped up by a fan base ranging from tweenies to gay men still quivering to
"Toxic". They will not feel short-changed. The album is as calorific as the KFC
burgers dished up at her chav-style wedding; twenty finger lickin' tracks that
mirror her trajectory from pretty pop puff to lusty strumpet. "...Baby One More
Time", "Stronger", "Oops! I Did It Again" and "Sometimes" are all there to
represent the innocent years when Britney annoyed and titillated in equal
measure. As the declarations of innocence began to wear a little thin -she was
dating the highly shaggable Justin Timberlake after all -"Overprotected" and
"I'm Not A Girl", Not Yet A Woman" served to alloy her critics' barbs. "I'm A
Slave 4 U" was the turning point. Complete with sweaty python and the
song-writing skills of Pharrell Williams, Britney dropped the veil of probity
and writhed into wanton self-publicity. The services of other song-writers make
a significant appearance on the album, with Pharrell Williams delivering again
for "Boys", R. Kelly transforming Britney into a grubby Beyonce on "Outrageous"
and pop alchemist, Cathy Dennis, waving her magic wand for "Toxic". As with most
Greatest Hits albums, you'll find a couple of covers lurking amongst the
goodies. The gloopy re-working of Bobby Brown's "My Prerogative" and a lame stab
at Joan Jett's "I Love Rock 'n' Roll" make up Britney's quota. Despite the
shiny, taut Britney on the cover, in real life the singer seems to be plumping
up nicely into her wifely duties, declaring motherhood as the next thing on the
agenda. Two robust, unreleased tracks, "I've Just Begun (Having My Fun)" and "Do
Somethin'" suggest, however, that she may still be churning out a few more No.1s
before taking time out to sing lullabies to her brood.
Reviewed by
Annabel Leathes at BBC Music
 B In The Mix : The Remixes (2005)
Britney Spears isn't our
trashiest blonde, our worst lip-syncher or even our most dysfunctional teen-pop
artist anymore (Paris Hilton, Ashlee Simpson and Lindsay Lohan, respectively,
have taken those crowns). But even as haters and clear-thinking fans hope that
the new mother takes a break from the spotlight, Spears still demands attention,
and so last year's greatest-hits collection is followed by a seemingly even more
redundant remix album. The good part: Aside from "Toxic," just about every
original track is bettered here. The five other remixed tracks from 2003's In
the Zone are nearly as electronic and sleazy as "Toxic" was the first time
around, and Dave Aude trumps the Neptunes on his guitar-bolstered mix of 2001's
"I'm a Slave 4 U." Although nothing can rescue Spears' freakishly sappy flop
single "Someday (I Will Understand)," the other new track, "And Then We Kiss,"
brings a simpatico blend of symphonic strings and dance-rock guitars.
Reviewed by Barry Walters at Rolling Stone
 Blackout (2007)
Well, this is unfortunate.
While judges debate her child-visitation rights, Britney Spears has released an
album whose title seems to have been inspired by a major flirtini binge. On
Blackout, she's singing that she's "so damn high I can't come down,"
anticipating a night of "dancing tabletop," and issuing a proclamation that's
enough to make Sean Preston use Jayden as a protective shield from Mommy: "Maybe
I'm a freak, but I don't really give a damn/I'm as crazy as a motherfucker!"
Those words may or may not reflect Britney's true feelings — she didn't write
them — but what's notable is that Blackout is the first time in her career that
she's voiced any real thoughts about her life. The old provocation game is still
afoot, but Britney's stubbornly holding on to her freakness — it's the only form
of rebellion she's got left. With a VIP list of puppet masters including
Timbaland, Pharrell Williams and Bloodshy, she's all vox-tweaked and ready to
bring back the stellar heavy-breathers of her youth, from the Berlin-style New
Wave disco of "Heaven on Earth" to the stadium-stomping "Ooh Ooh Baby." It's
telling that Blackout's two best tracks — the tabloid-bashing banger "Piece of
Me" and the papa¬?razzi-tease "Freakshow" — suggest that she believes playing
the part of the cage-dancing bear is the best way to mess with the media. "Wanna
see crazy?" she sings on "Freakshow." "We can show 'em!" When she's not gearing
up for a meltdown, Britney's wielding more melting-ice imagery than An
Inconvenient Truth: She's gonna "break the ice," "hit defrost on ya," 'cause
she's "cold as fire, baby, hot as ice." Fire and ice — Robert Frost said the
world will end in one of those two ways, consumed by passion or frozen by
rationalism, and it's clear which option Brit will take. But meanwhile, she's
gonna crank the best pop booty jams until a social worker cuts off her supply of
hits.
Reviewed by Melissa Maerz at Rolling
Stone
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