You could, therefore, just about argue that Bionic is a cranking post-feminist party album certainly, the lubricious Aguilera exudes very little of the victimhood of her fellow former Mouseketeer Britney Spears.īut that might just be taking things a bit far. The biggest surprise here is 'My Girls', a sisterly discoid delight attributed to feminist electropunks Le Tigre, closely followed by 'Bobblehead', a diss track co-authored by Santigold.

'Woohoo', which hymns the joys of cunnilingus, is great fun, pitting she-MC Nicki Minaj against Aguilera, whose big pipes remain under wraps for great swaths of Bionic's electro-powered segments.įor the best part of a year, rumours circulated about Aguilera's collaborators, and even the most outlandish have turned out to be true. A syrupy Aguilera pushes 'Sex for Breakfast' like R Kelly might mid-disc, there's an R&B-free zone of lady-mush.īionic's power lies in its core limb-shaking sass, even as it confuses girl-on-girl action with sisterhood.

Away from their clutches, Bionic can stall. Two it-guy producers, Polow da Don and Tricky Stewart, provide Bionic's backbone of sweaty club bangers. Mostly, Bionic cleaves closer to the sex-mad, urban R&B model that predated Gaga's absurdist vision and continues to sell. Hearing Bionic as a riposte to Lady Gaga's 'Monster' is inevitable. Pop is both hall of mirrors and echo chamber, constantly refracting and reflecting its queen bees – Madonna, Britney, Stefani, Christina, Gaga – back at each other. Aguilera is no stranger to raunch, having upped the ante with the video for 'Dirrty' in 2002.

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