Shrug if you will, but since the release of Blackout, the career trajectory of Britney Spears has warranted some serious conversation. That 2007 album was her first post-breakdown, post–fall from grace record, accompanied by the realization that her pop stardom had transformed into a cult of personality with a public more likely to buy tabloids than a new Britney record. But while the hits that had come before were guilty pleasures, ephemeral pop candy, Blackout also marked a second chapter. The songs signaled some revenge, some reflection, and best of all, popcraft invested in the future of the genre, not a bottom line. Maybe it wasn’t cutting edge, but there was an edge and a perfect balance between Britney the icon and Britney re-invented. Hiring the best production heads and ghostwriters, Ms. Spears and her handlers had constructed a statement record. It was something rare in pop music to hear an album where the un-hits were just as engaging as the radio-ready monsters. But millions of dollars thrown towards a project will do that (have you heard the Pharell-helmed “Why Should I Be Sad?”). It had the whiff of underdog, but also the poise only someone like Spears could manage.

By now you’re rolling your eyes… and I get it. Regardless whether you commit to the notion that Britney Spears is the single biggest pop star since Madonna and MJ or not, with her last three albums she has become a barometer for where pop is headed—instead of aping it, phoning it in, and becoming a punchline starring in her own white-trash version of Sunset Boulevard. Again, the hits have declined, but the substance (or what can reasonably be considered substance for pop of this ilk) is in full force. Stay with me.

This brings us to Britney Jean (RCA), posited as the most “personal” record of her career, the disclaimer being that you can never have high hopes or increased expectations for each subsequent Britney album. That goes for fan and intent or casual observer. Circus (2008) was a schmaltzy dip, though it had some stunners, while 2011’s Femme Fatale was her proverbial phoenix rising from what was left of the ashes, filled with hits if only to succumb to EDM tropes (all the rave these days). So in 2013, an age when Top 40 ’80s pop is considered a retro proposition as aesthetic, and even the ’90s gloss, of which Spears was a figurehead, has fogged up the periphery (ahem, Sky Ferreira), Britney Jean was supposed to be her most leftfield release yet. Max Martin and Dr. Luke were set to return, the hottest producer and composer in pop, and Dev Hynes was rumored to be in the mix—all giving the vibe that Spears would follow in the footsteps of Solange, Sky, and Kelela to make something slightly avant, slightly R&B, and slightly hypnogogic even. Much of that never transpired, or if it did, we’ll only hear it in top secret demos leaked out covertly. Instead, Spears snuggled up with the very safe Will.i.am, who goes for hyper-populist bombast that sounds generic and trite. “Personal” this is not, but who knows who had the final decision, the starlet or the stock?

Still, there’s enough hiding here to, again, warrant that conversation I was talking about. The William Orbit–produced lead “Alien” and the Diplo-helmed “Passenger” see Spears stepping out of her comfort zone to traipse through space and isolation, blurred clouds of ambience, or NES-tinged techno-quibbles. Yes, “Work Bitch” is not representative of the oddity of Britney, so we can throw that out. But neither is the luxurious balladry of “Perfume,” yet it shines as the album’s best moment and emblematic of what Spears can do in that capacity. Guilty pleasure is elicited with “Chillin’ With You,” a song about a girl’s night out drinking red wine with sister Jamie Lynn (who duets here). Though it’s absolute thoughtless filler, it’s the catchiest hook on Britney Jean. That’s how most of the album operates this time around. When it seems Britney and company are trying too hard, they usually are, resulting in over-the-top attempts at chart domination. When it seems nobody’s looking (or in the case of Britney Jean, the bonus tracks left off the final release), there’s an effortless charm to the production and Spears’ approach.