"What Would You Do To Meet Britney?"
That's the question that booms out at us half an hour into Miss Spears' evening of choreography and pyrotechnics. While Britney changes costumes, her dancers march a few kids onstage and urge them to humiliate themselves by barking like a dog, flopping like a fish, or walking like a chicken.
Little spiky-haired George (the chicken) is crap, but when he announces he's from Essex the arena explodes with noise, and the cheering makes him the winner. Make of this what you will.
Before the show, dotmusic finds itself in a queue full of 12 year old girls wearing the sort of clothes that would surely warrant an in-depth investigation by the News Of The World. But they're her core crowd. Critics (older, male) usually focus upon Britney's youth (18 this year), but to her fans she's the big sister they've always wanted.
Britney has recognised this too. She wants us to know that, yep, she's just like us. (Apart from the fact that she's enormously famous and extremely wealthy, we're virtually identical.)
This leads to numerous 'heartfelt' thanks to her audience. As the thousands assembled here have handed over -in terms of tickets and merchandise- about £750,000, thanks should be the least of it. (This is American showbiz, though: "God has blessed me so much. I want to thank you for making my dreams come true.")
It was recently announced that 'Britney Spears' was the most searched-for name on the Internet. Further delving revealed that, usually, it was accompanied by the word 'naked'.
Yep, Britney has a male audience too! And they're also skilfully catered for. If Britney is, at any point tonight, wearing clothes that conceal her cleavage or thighs, it is solely so she can suggestively rip them off in the middle of the song. Halfway through the show, as Britney in bra top and shorts bends back into the arms of her dancers, several teenage boys in the row in front seem to have their first experience of puberty.
And the music? Well, it's the least important part of the mix tonight. She trots out most of 'Oops! I Did It Again', with the odd highlight from debut 'Baby One More Time' scattered throughout. You very often get the impression she isn't actually singing a note herself.
The session musicians are efficiently and skilfully crap (at one point, to allow Britney to slip into something less comfortable, they knock out a grim funk jam with horrible wibbly '80s keyboard sounds and a sodding drum solo). It's Wembley, so if there were any subtleties to anyone's performance, you wouldn't hear it anyway. And that's that.
When she scarpers after a sweaty, hip-grinding cover of the Rolling Stones' 'Satisfaction', you can't help looking back at bits of the previous hour -Britney's fake bedroom, in which she and her dancers hug teddy bears; Britney in white naval uniform while sailor boys straight out of West Side Story dance around her and the US flag flickers on the video screen; Britney in an 8m long trailing ballgown; Britney on wires hanging from the roof wearing the largest skirt ever!- and wondering "what the hell was that all about?"
No time for answers, though; she reappears in school uniform, several of the dads need a bit of a lie down, and the opening chords of 'Baby One More Time' are five minutes of utter genius. Which is five minutes more than most can manage.
'Oops!' is exactly the same song, only not so good, but she's saved her most revealing clobber till last, so the audience is still happy. Which in the world of Britney, is the only point. The people got what they wanted, and paid handsomely for the privilege. Don't forget to buy your Britney teddy-bear on the way out!
