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More like ravenous. "She's a true competitor in the very best sense of the word," says Barry Weiss, president and CEO of Zomba Label Group, of which Spears's label, Jive Records, is a part. "I think she knows that she's got a big, big place in the market she wants to reclaim. She says, 'I belong out there. I can do these things.'" Spears is more pointed in her critique of the musical landscape. "It's a huge lull," she says. "I haven't seen anybody out there who has had a performance where I'm like, 'That's f-----' awesome.' It's been boring. Nothing's been wow to me."
Aiming for a release later this year, she has been recording in her home studio, experimenting with live musicians and stripping down her sound. "I'll get on the pian-ah," she says in her Louisiana twang, more pronounced in person than it is in her public appearances, "and just play whatever feels good." Hearing herself sing to Sean Preston has proved a turning point. "When I was little, I would listen to myself," she says. "But the record label signs you, and you're just thankful to get a hit song. You can't really show off your voice and where you came from."
Which brings her back to Louisiana. Growing up, "I used to listen to blues music and all that stuff," she says. "I would like to try to have more influences of that sound. Not that I'm going to be like frickin' Tina Turner. But you never know."
















