Bionic

When pop's freakiest maven debuted new single ‘Not Myself Tonight'a few weeks back and I first heard her sing "Tonight I'm not the same girl, same girl", I took her chirps (and note, I didn't say hollers) completely the wrong way.
I naturally assumed Xtina was referring to her shiny new Lady GaGa impersonation – reflected in the song's harsh melody and tuneless distortion. But having listened to Bionic, the singer's fourth studio album, Aguilera's warped refrain takes on a whole new meaning. She's actually warning us that for the next 60 minutes, she will be playing the role of a hundred different artists at once.
You'll no doubt have read about the robotic Christina who features on the first five tracks, a heavily motorized dilution of the diva we remember from ‘Beautiful'and ‘Fighter'– and one identified by more than a few pop commentators as a shameless GaGa rehash. This is a harsh judgement: first, because Ms. Germanotta's alter ego would never have existed were it not for the grotesque pop Aguilera made during her misfit years; and secondly, because nothing on Bionic comes close to the charming stomp of The Fame, except perhaps the MIA-penned ‘Elastic Love'.
The second chapter of Bionic is an odd attempt at ‘Vogue'- era Madonna, made up of a truly pointless intro (the first of many) and a pair of lacklustre and camp disco tunes. Next, Aguilera channels Luther Vandross, playing with full-on aural seduction on ‘Sex For Breakfast'. The result is cliché on a cracker. The fourth Christina (AKA flawless balladeer) is one we know all too well, with the money notes on ‘Lift Me Up'recalling past glories like ‘The Voice Within'and ‘Hurt'.
Aguilera 5.0 is manifested in a trinity of melodic tunes co-written by Australian songbird Sia, which work curiously well, in particular, the piano-led ‘I Am'. The sixth and final facet to our femme fatale appears in a trio of gaudy pop tunes. ‘I Hate Boys', ‘My Girls'and ‘Vanity'sound exactly as you're imagining – a smattering of brash beats swamped in laughable lyrics (‘I'm not cocky /I just loooove myself, bitch!').
If only Aguilera had stuck to one of the six perplexing personalities showcased here (I have high hopes for Christina number three: the lady Vandross), maybe she'd have produced something worthwhile. Instead, we get a handful of mildly thrilling tracks and oodles of derivative weirdness. Back to the drawing board, bitch!