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This is the review of the new Britney Spears album which ran in
the Washington Post. It's hysterical...

One More Time, Only Like Even More So
By David Segal
(c) 2000, The Washington Post

Dear Britney, Omigod, omigod, omigod. Oh. My. God. Got your new
album.
Love it! Seriously, it just rawwwwwks, you know? After your
first one, I was like, no way she can top this. Ever, ever,
ever. No way. Well, way!

"Oops ... I Did It Again" is sooo amazing. Where do I begin? I
love how the album is basically the same beat, the whole way
through. You could Tae Bo to this thing and never miss a punch.
On most albums, the beats are all mixed up - slow song, fast
song, mid-tempo song. It's confusing! With "Oops" it's like your
drum machine got stuck or something, but in a cool way. And
the album sounds a lot like your first one, "Baby One More
Time," so there's nothing tricky to learn.

And you look faboo on the cover. You were so right to drop that
whole Catholic-school slut thing you had working on your debut.
Don't get me wrong, it was really cool and sooo many kids
totally ripped it off and everything. I bet you scandalized a
lot of nuns. You go, girl! But this new look is excellent. Are
those leopard-skin pants you're wearing in the promo shot? And
how about that slinky suede vest with the brass buckles? Want
one! Even better is that latex red jumpsuit from your new video,
the one where you, like, spin through space. I love how they
play it all the time on MTV. It's like, I WANT MY BRITNEY TV!

Even your album title is cool. And gutsy. I mean, there are
going to be sooo many smarty-pants out there saying stuff
like, "Yeah, she put out another stinky album!" Or people will
call it "Britney's Second Boo Boo," or some other dumb joke.
Ignore them. You're an artist! This album is totally going
to debut at No. 1 this week, knocking off 'N Sync's "No Strings
Attached." And it'll do that because of the music. People forget
that about you. Oh, they say, she's a ditz. She's a Mouseketeer.
She lip-syncs in concert. She stole her moves from Janet
Jackson. Even her breasts are fake. (As if!) Well, wait till
they get a load of "Oops." The title track, and first single, is
great. The chorus sounds exactly like Abba doing an aerobics
video. Hey, they can't sue you, right? I mean Abba is from like
Sweden or something, so they probably don't even have lawyers in
this country. And they're old, so they probably won't even hear
this song.

Even if they sue, big whup. You're way better. Your voice is all
moaning and stuff, and the music sounds like it came right out
of a machine. (Are there any live musicians on this album?
Message me.) Lyrics-wise, some guy thinks you're more than
friends and you're like NOT! "It might seem like a crush, but it
doesn't mean that I'm serious," you sing. And you make it rhyme.
Not many singers can do that!

And you cover the Rolling Stones' "(I Can't Get No
Satisfaction."That took nerve. Friends must have been, like, "Oh
Britney, maybe you should stay away from one of the greatest
songs in rock history. People will laugh at you." You're like,
Whatever! Your version is way better than the Stones' because
you can dance to it, you know? And it doesn't have that annoying
guitar riff that just keeps repeating, over and over. Instead,
the beat is kind of like Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean."

Things get even better with "Don't Let Me Be the Last to
Know,"co-written by Shania Twain. The country queen of bare
midriff helps the teen queen of bare midriff - can you
say "genius"? Omigod, there's so much more. On "Lucky" you sing
about a miserable child star who's beloved by everyone but
bawls her eyes out, wondering "If there's nothing missing in my
life/ Then why do these tears come at night?" Is it about you?
Who knows? The key is that people will ask!

The whole album is so ... edgy. Because you're 18 now, and
singing lines like "I"m not that innocent," and wearing all
those skintight bustiers and stuff. And then you're quoted in
magazines saying how icky it is that men fantasize about you,
how that sort of freaks you out and everything. It's perfect.
You come on all half-naked and barely legal, and the next
moment you're like, "Perverts!"

The virgin-hussy thing. It's awesome and nobody does it like
you. Run with it. Don't change it. And when you record album
number three, just do it again.

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