{grate 3}
Don’t ask us how Janet Jackson does it. You’d think that
after 10 studio albums polished to understated sex-kitten perfection, the
ab-queen of the pop universe would be drained of sass. But we should learn to
have more faith in the woman who has survived mass nipple slippage and
rollercoaster fat fluctuations. In Discipline, she rips to shreds her 20-year-old
weaknesses, returning to the heavy lidded ’80s sensuality that doesn’t grind
your face off (Britney) or ballad-break the windows (Mariah), but whispers
dirty little secrets in your ear in true Janet fashion.

Nope, it’s clear that Ms. Jackson hasn’t lost an ounce of
her sweaty sexual prowess; her horny panting and auto-tuned pleading are louder
than ever. Sure, Rihanna might be half her age, but Dupri’s muse has clearly
sharpened her cougar claws and pushed her to the front of the pack. “Feedback,”
the album’s premier single, pretty much sums it up: she’s “heavy like a
first-day period.” With pumping house beats, a reverberating bass line and
Janet moaning “sexy, sexy, sexy” in her trademark, close-to-monotone
breathiness, it’s hard to disagree — this kind of comeback is as unavoidable as
Aunt Flo’s monthly visits.

The next single from the plastic surgeon puppet (at least
she’s still vaguely black-looking, right?) will most likely be “Luv,” a
three-minute car accident-lust metaphor (“Sparks turned into flames/ should
have stopped at the red light”) punctuated by a hypnotizing “luv, luv,
luv-luv-luv” chant over squeaky tech backing. Then again, the next hit could
also be the equally dance-worthy “2nite” — a crossbreed of old Janet (see:
“Nasty Boys”) with a new, strobe light-inspired Janet. This one definitely sees
sweaty gay boy worship in its near future — then again, the entire album will
undoubtedly inspire a faithful homo-cult following.

The only disappointing lows in Discipline are the boring
R&B ballads that are essentially filler. It’s like Janet paused for a water
break between heart-racing aerobic workouts, and halfheartedly mumbled some
insipid refrain for Dupri to play with (“Never Letchu Go”). More disturbing,
though, is when she looks to her inner Penny Gordon on the title track,
“Discipline.” Sorry, but a shivering little girl begging “daddy” to “make [her]
cry,” “take off all [her] clothes” and “be the teacher,” among other creepy
requests, is not sexy. It’s just not.

Overall, you’ve gotta give Janet her much-deserved credit.
What fountain of eternal youth has the woman been greedily gulping? Will she
ever go through menopause? Probably not … I suspect she’ll always be first-day period
heavy.