Britney Spears may be highly-produced. And her vocals may sound technologically enhanced in a not-quite-human kind of way. But her current CD tops the American Music Association charts for a reason. How does the saying go? A hundred thousand lemmings can’t be wrong.

Popular culture slams aside, Spears is a force to be reckoned with. After 80s pop fluff (remember Stacy Q?) gave way to 90s angst, the world was left hungry for a fresh-faced, innocent icon (she can’t fool us, she really is that innocent). And lest you think Britney’s fan base consists only of the not-yet-ready-for-training bras crowd, her journey to number one on countless charts could not come from the bubble gum demographic alone.
Like the Spice Girls before her, she’s the dirty little secret in the CD collection of countless grown-ups as well.

And why not? Her music is catchy, danceable, and makes you want to move.

The lyrics are, frankly, mindless. If you want depth, listen to Sting. But if you’re cleaning house, washing the car, running errands, some upbeat ear candy might help get the job done. You can’t contemplate the meaning of the universe all the time. Well, you can, but it would really bring you down. The only danger from this CD is sugar overload.

Spears has cited Michael Jackson, Janet Jackson, and Paula Abdul as her heroes. These three forces transformed the way we thought about pop music videos and dancing in the 80s. Michael and Janet’s jerky, techno dance beats and well-placed groans abound on this album. If you like to dance, you’ll understand the appeal of this music beyond preteens looking for an idol. If you don’t like to dance, check out Santana or Steely Dan. Britney’s not for you.

Spears’ handlers know their market well. The CD might offer more than just two or three interesting cuts if the producers had taken some risks, or at least made an attempt at variety. There’s an irritating sameness to many of the dance tracks.

The CD cover is filled with the obligatory pictures of Britney alternating between looking seductive and super friendly. She’s infinitely likeable and hardly the threat to the morals of young girls that some maintain. Who wouldn’t want a beautiful, hard-working contagiously happy, perpetually sweet daughter like Britney? An exposed navel is not the predecessor of Sodom and Gomorrah, folks.

This CD offers its share of throwaway cuts like “Don’t Go Knockin’ On My Door,” filled with layers over layers of vocals trademark of today’s manufactured teen idols. Too often the songs offer no unique catch to make the song in any way likeable. Change the vocals and this could be a Backstreet Boys tune, or any other generic, over-produced pop hype.

By far the strongest cut on the CD is the title track, “Oops!…” If you hear it once, it is imprinted on your brain forever. It’s a good one to put on your jogging tape or MP3. There’s always room in the world for one more upbeat tune to get you going.

“Stronger” has the trademark techno sound of Britney’s dance hits. One of the potential singles, with the standard well-promoted video, it could be a big hit. However, it is not nearly as standout as the CD’s title track.

Britney almost can’t fail to produce a hit with her cover of the Stones’ classic rock anthem “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.” It intros with some contrived girl talk about Britney’s petulance with a fictitious boyfriend. This bit of fluffy banter may entertain the young ones, but will assuredly not make it to radio play. Unfortunately, the song is strangely monotonous and uninteresting, with an overwhelming drum machine beat and bluesy vocals. But for an audience unfamiliar with the Stones’ raw, strutting version (hey, this generation only knows about Ronald Reagan from historical anecdotes), it might sound fresh. After all Vitamin C’s “Graduation,” has become a hit, though it’s just a thinly disguised rendition of Pachelbel’s “Canon.”

Co-written by Mutt Lange and Shania Twain, “Don’t Let Me Be the Last to Know” sounds like an Olivia Newton-John ballad from the Xanadu soundtrack. It doesn’t have the power to stand alone as a single. It’s surprising that Mutt and Shania couldn’t do better for Britney.

Another potential single, “Lucky,” has enough variety, to keep you engaged. It’s an interesting them, the tale of a young superstar with a secret well of sadness inside her. Are we supposed to think this is about Spears? This song will almost certainly be a hit.

Britney’s own offering, “Dear Diary,” is the least produced and therefore most sincere song on the album. While not runaway radio hit material, its easy, soft sound makes it infinitely listenable.

If you really love the title track and are worried about missing it when MTV inevitably retires the video from play, then by all means, buy the CD. “Lucky” is the only other reason to make the purchase. The rest ranges from endurable, to downright monotonous. But once some high gloss, dance ensemble videos accompany the sound, you might even grow to like them. Let’s face it, Spears’ contribution to pop culture is to inspire us to move with her energetic performances and intricate dance numbers. The music itself is less important than the package of Britneymania.