Rihanna-Shakira-Gaga: Ooh la la, it's been a bumper week for pop

Someone must have been fired over such shoddy timing. After an unusually quiet few weeks in pop, three of the industry's biggest stars released new CDs on exactly the same day: Rihanna dropped her first CD post-Brown-gate, Shakira released her first English-language album in over four years, and Lady Gaga trumped them both on the charts with "The Fame Monster," an eight-song reissue of her debut that she thankfully decided to release on its own.

It's a pop star cluster-fuck — the equivalent of three summer blockbusters hitting theaters simultaneously. And what can I say? Ever since iTunes brought the singles market back, I've been waiting for mainstream records to get lazier. But as these three ambitious discs prove, perhaps the idea of a 21st century pop album isn't such an oxymoron. They're not perfect, but they certainly aren't half-arsed — and that is almost good enough for me.

First we'll tackle Rihanna's "Rated R," the most self-consciously daring of the three and also the most flawed. Just two years ago, the singer was an innocent Barbadian teen beckoning listeners under her umbrella. Fast-forward to the present, and she's comparing sex to suicide on her new single, "Russian Roulette," and littering the accompanying album with songs about lesbians, car crashes and cold-blooded murder. And in case that wasn't edgy enough for you, the record definitely lives up to its name - "Rated R" probably has more swear words than any other mainstream pop album in history.

But as lyrically potent as "Rated R" tries to be (and boy, does it try, almost coming off as a game of "spot the Chris Brown reference"), the music just isn't up to the task. On her 2007 album "Good Girl Gone Bad," Rihanna patented a metallic robo-pop sound that worked wonders with her emotionless monotone of a voice. On "Rated R", however, Rihanna tries on too many costumes, and few of them are a good fit.

The interminable "Rockstar 101," produced with the help of Guns N' Roses guitarist Slash, might be one of the most embarrassing pop-rock crossovers in recent memory, while Rihanna's shameless posturing on songs like "Hard" and "G4L" (that stands for "Gangsta for Life," by the way) borders on the offensive. In short, there's way too much going on, with rock, R&B, rap and electro-pop coexisting in an awkward limbo.

Of course, a pop album this high-profile is rarely a total dud, and there are a handful of stadium-sized hooks here that'll keep Rihanna stocked until her next release. "Rude Boy" is a mindlessly catchy slice of bubblegum pop that works precisely because it sets its sights so low, while "Te Amo" just about sells its lesbian-love premise with an unexpectedly swooning chorus.

Most of the singles are pretty effective, too — particularly the spooky, discordant "Wait Your Turn" - but I doubt any of them will enter the pop culture lexicon like "Umbrella" did. Where that song was deceptively simple, these songs try too hard, forgetting that pop music is about more than just fueling gossip mags. "Rated R" isn't a boring listen — far from it, in fact — but the emotional turmoil seems so manufactured that it leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

Shakira's new album is also a kaleidoscope of genres. On "She Wolf," the Colombian-born singer dashes from Spanish flamenco to punk rock and back again, all in just 40 minutes. The difference is that she pulls off almost every musical U-turn, and the album holds together too.

Partly, this has to do with Shakira's loony lyricism. The girl who famously warned us not to confuse her breasts with mountains hasn't lost her taste for the absurd, and "She Wolf" is popping with some of the strangest lyrics I've ever heard. "I'm starting to feel just a little abused, like a coffee machine in an office"? "The good ones are gone or not able, and Matt Damon's not meant for me"? "Hope the French fleas eat you both alive, and your room smells, and the toilet doesn't flush"?

Admittedly, the bonkers lyrics might just be the result of one too few English lessons (of her six studio albums, half have been in Spanish), but I prefer to think it's intentional. Certainly, her quirky, bombastic warble is the only voice I can see fitting these words.

Still, it's the music that really sells the album. In every way that "Rated R" typifies the worst excesses of corporate pop, "She Wolf" demonstrates just how great commercial music can be when it works. It's truly a case of more being more: Dividing production between The Neptunes and Santigold-collaborator John Hill — with an obligatory, "Hips Don't Lie"-aping Wyclef Jean collab - "She Wolf" lets everyone show off without overshadowing the star.

It's amazing, actually, how many musical settings Shakira sounds comfortable in, whether yelping about lycanthropy on the shimmering New Wave title track or moaning atop the synthy Neptunes strut of "Good Stuff." The whole thing adds up to one of the best pop albums I've heard in a long time. At nine songs, it's admittedly slim, but there isn't an ounce of filler.

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The same goes for Lady Gaga's new CD, "The Fame Monster" — at only eight tracks, it hovers awkwardly between album and EP, but it's loaded with more good songs than her debut, even though it's half the length.

I'll admit I didn't think there was much to Lady Gaga when she released her first album; I dismissed it as one-hit wonder material, if that. Then again, I was probably the only person on Earth who bought it without having seen a single picture of her. And if there's one thing everyone knows about Gaga, it's that image is everything.

After all, "The Fame" has just three great singles masking a whole load of bland, synthetic crap, but that was hard to notice amid her high-concept wardrobe choices. With "The Fame Monster" though, Gaga's finally convinced me that she's more than just a Madonna knockoff. While both are able to capture the zeitgeist with almost scientific precision, Madonna can't really sing. This girl sure as hell can.

More than that, Madonna can only dream of releasing a song as impossibly massive as Gaga's new single "Bad Romance." It's a song written with the knowledge that it'll hit number one without breaking a sweat, and, very coincidentally, it might just be the song of the year.

Luckily, the rest of "The Fame Monster" lives up to the hype. If there's a finite pool of great melodies lurking out there somewhere, these eight songs have definitely helped suck it dry. "Alejandro" is the best song ABBA never wrote, "Telephone" is an epic duet with Beyonce in which Lady Gaga beats her guest at her own game, and "Monster" is yet another great Gaga song about a terrible lover. They'll all be stuck in your head well into next year.

Never mind that half the album is made up of cleverly disguised carbon copies of "Poker Face" or that the power-ballad "Speechless" is so tongue-in-cheek, it's positively ripping through the other side. Madonna hasn't been interesting in at least a decade, and it's about time someone else stepped up to the throne: Say hello to the new Queen of Pop.

RATED R

3 Paws

Pros: Everything's serviceably catchy, and there are a couple of standout tracks.

Cons: The shock value all seems rather calculated, and musically, it's all over the place. Oh, and there's a guest spot from will.i.am.

Download this: "Wait Your Turn," "Fire Bomb," "Rude Boy"

SHE WOLF

5 Paws

Pros: Shakira's latest is the sonic equivalent of a visit to Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, equal parts barmy and brilliant.

Cons: Her voice is still something of an acquired taste.

Download this: "She Wolf," "Good Stuff," "Men in this Town"

THE FAME MONSTER

5 Paws

Pros: The most supremely confident pop album of the year. Finally, Lady GaGa's proven she's more than just an intellectual tease. She can make kick-ass music too.

Cons: The person behind the persona is still a mystery, but I guess that's the whole point.

Download this: "Bad Romance," "Monster," "Telephone" (featuring Beyonce)