She's Back,
Bitches

Britney Spears is a perennial favorite of the type that chases ambulances -- not for the potential lawsuits, but just to get a glimpse of the tragedy inside. Beginning with her disgraceful public breakup with Justin Timberlake, the world has watched Spears's career as she careens through the Hollywood hills, frapp in one hand, cigarette in the other, with K-Fed's baby cooing away in her lap, unshielded from imminent disaster. She is a living legend: What starlet before her was so public about her madness -- flashing her naughty bits for the paps, shaving her head, losing custody of her children before regaining visitation rights only to lose them again -- and on and on.

But what is it about the troubled star, who has openly spoken in favor of George Bush, that makes her a darling of gays? Does she thrive on self-perpetuated scandal alone, or is there more to her iconic standing?

On her new album, Circus, Spears begins -- finally -- to justify some of the idol worship that legions of gay fanboys have heaped upon her image.

Oops! She Made Good Music (Again)

Circus is a strong follow-up to her first legitimate album. Released in 2007, that album -- named Blackout as a bold and unironic statement during the apex of her self-abusive phase -- collaged together snippets of Spears's robotic-sounding vocals and pasted them over truly great dance tracks. The Washington Post named Blackout one of the best albums of 2006. Circus may prove to be one of the best of 2008. Certainly, it is the best of Britney Spears to date.

What makes Circus a standout is that it succeeds not in spite of Spears's weak vocals; contrary to all reasonable expectations, the fractured starlet on this album comes across as a rising, not falling, star.

The album's first single, "Womanizer," is typical Spears. Like "Toxic," it cuts and pastes Britney's nasal performance into a track so carefully frantic that you don't think about it -- you just move to it. It's inconsequential, just as you would expect of Britney -- or, really, of most popular music singles that make it to the radio.

But there's more to Circus. The title track, which is placed second, really kicks off the album. On it, Britney is the self-professed ringleader. "I call the shots," she sings. Yeah, right, Britney. Sure you do.

The Superstar Underdog

Even if Britney is not the mastermind of the album, she maintains a strong presence on every song, which wasn't the case on Blackout and certainly never before that album. Part of Spears's allure may be her lack of autonomy. She has been compared to Madonna, but Madge is famous mostly for her strength, not her failings or vulnerability. Both may croon about their love of dancing, but any control that Britney's image has ever involved was granted to her, not owned. How many of us have felt that way? If Madonna is the self-made diva some part of my gay psyche aspires to be, then Britney is the broken doll that makes itself known on to me on a more regular basis. Britney succeeds in spite of herself -- the same way I survived high school.

But no. It's time to give Britney long-overdue credit. It is often said that she can't sing, but attentive producers have shown time and again that her trademark nasal whisper is capable of attaining a couple of sweetly touching notes that trump Madonna's consistently capable but never truly evocative voice.

Don't get me wrong. On her own, Spears would not be capable of making beautiful music. But "Out From Under" is a sigh of a song that makes Spears sound like a vulnerable, passionate half-robot, half-woman -- a sort of Pixar character whose highly publicized masochism only proves that she is in fact real. And the song's lyrics are intimately relatable, if not the most unexpected from a young pop star:

And my eyes see it all so clear It was long ago and far away, but it never disappears Try to put it in the past Hold onto myself and not look back I don't want to dream about all the things that never were And maybe I could live without when I'm out from under I don't want to feel the pain What good would it do me now? I'll get it all figured out When I'm out from under

Though Spears's strength is dance-pop, she has issued perhaps her most effective performance, emotionally and vocally, in the form of the mid-tempo song "Unusual You." The song, which opens with "Nothing about you is typical / Nothing about you's predictable," is urgent, with heavy guitar and aggressive percussion. Though the sound would be familiar terrain in the neighborhood of Kylie Minogue, Britney makes more of it than Kylie would. Brit's intonation feels at once apathetic and dire. And then she reaches the chorus, and it almost breaks your heart:

Hey baby you're so unusual Didn't anyone tell you you're supposed to break my heart? I expect you to So why haven't you? Baby, you're not even human 'cause Only an angel could be so unusual A sweet surprise I could get used to, unusual you

Unusual Britney

What's "unusual" in the song is that its subject can be counted on not to exploit, disappoint, or give up on the singer. On the page, the idea may feel overdone, but all the disparate elements of the song come together to reveal what one could imagine as the crux of Spears's real personal troubles. Implied is the idea that she has had many experiences with many men but has never made a real connection based on trust or what others call love. Manhunt much?

No one likes to think of the rich, famous, and beautiful as victims, especially when some of them so seemingly make their own lives hell for attention. That's one thing that makes this album such a triumph: Spears doesn't come across as desperate for anything, least of all your pity. She is the ringleader here, even if only by virtue of her one-of-a-kind performance and the baggage of her persona. Everyone sees her as a flamboyant head case, an undeservingly successful second-class citizen who brazenly staggers on a tightrope with no net.

She's living the way you are.

Or maybe I'm just speaking for myself.

While Circus features great ("Unusual You," the disco-'80s "Shattered Glass"), good ("Blur," "Out from Under," "Circus," "Kill the Lights"), puzzling ("If U Seek Amy" could be about Britney's second personality -- or possibly even Lindsay Lohan?), and standard fare ("Womanizer," "My Baby"), nothing about it approaches bad. Compare this track list with anything Spears's name was tagged to before Blackout, and ... well, there is no comparison. The album is resistant (with the exception of "My Baby," which may be excusable) to self-indulgence.

Britney Spears Is No Christina Aguilera (Thank God)

It is hard to imagine the vocally superior Christina Aguilera presenting such mature music, and yet Aguilera gets all the credit. Why? Ten years ago, it was clear that Aguilera's voice made her a preternatural star, in league with Whitney, Mariah, and Celine. But as Aguilera ages, all she does is try on different costumes; she remains consistently intoxicated with the expansiveness and volume of her own voice, and her songs have become sickeningly self-celebratory.

Could it be that Britney Spears is emerging as an artist, outperforming those who had a clear lock on musical superiority ages ago? To paraphrase Aguilera, even though my mind says hellz no! my heart says yes. And isn't that what music is all about?