I have a huge problem with Britney Spears’ eighth studio album, Britney Jean, and its name is Will.i.am. The Black Eyed Peas frontman has taken over as executive producer, seemingly hijacking Brit’s emotions on half the record. The end result? An album of fillers that, despite the intimate title, is about as personal as a spot on the Home Shopping Network.
Mr. i.am’s love affair with Brit began when he produced and dueted with her on “Big Fat Bass,” the only misfire on Britney’s 2011 EDM masterpiece, Femme Fatale. The track came and went like Lindsay’s sobriety. In 2012, the duo appeared on Will’s dancefloor romp “Scream And Shout,” which went on to be a huge hit. The outcome was inevitable: Will.i.am announced that he was going to executive-produce Britney Jean, the album that marks Britney’s 15-year anniversary in the music biz. Think of the other divas that made huge comebacks after 15 years: Mariah (The Emancipation Of Mimi), Janet (All For You) and (all hail) Madonna’s game-changing musical masterpiece Ray of Light. In Britney’s case, unfortunately, the 15-year-marker does little to catapult the young singer down the musical runway, instead it furthers her growing reputation as a soulless pop bot.
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I have a confession to make: There’s never been a time — through all the K-Fed drama and shaved-head breakdowns — where I’ve not been a Britney Spears fan. But now, as we get closer to the release of Britney Jean (Dec. 3, RCA Records), there’s something that’s been bothering me: Not one of her new tracks has managed to hit my G-spot. Read more »
Brian Freedman damns the Blind Pig to mediocrity but does have an interesting way of praising the poutine.
Poutine came a lot closer to hitting its notes. The best versions of this totemic late-night drunk food tend to be defined by their reckless sense of lustiness. Well-assembled poutine is the early career Britney Spears of the junk-food world: You feel kind of dirty for thinking about it as much as you do, but you’re powerless to stop yourself once you give in to its easy, saucy allure. And if this one wasn’t a revelation, it was nonetheless a more-than-enjoyable dish, not to mention a deeply personal one: The curds, appropriately squeaky against the teeth, are produced by the chef’s daughter’s godfather in Amityville. Heart-stopping food is rarely this heart-warming.
The Blind Pig in NoLibs Isn’t Quite Hog Heaven [Philadelphia Weekly]
Blind Pig [Official Site]