EXPRESS NIGHT OUT - IMPERFECT: MARIAH CAREY

Nobody in contemporary R&B - not even Beyonce or Rihanna - plays the wronged woman quite so convincingly and dynamically as Mariah Carey. Her best songs this decade seem to emanate from the very moment when despondence becomes determination, as Carey gathers her composure and kisses off an errant man with so much style that he comes across as romantically radioactive.

Presumably, there are no personal reasons for this mix of vulnerability and strength: She has a publicly happy marriage to a much younger guy, which suggests she graduated from minx to cougar gracefully. So perhaps the subjects of these songs are critics and detractors who made "Glitter" a punchline and had a ball with her public breakdown a few years ago. To her credit, she has come back stronger after each pitfall, ultimately establishing herself as one of the most commanding pop presences of the decade.

"Welcome to a day in my life," she promises on "Betcha Gon' Know", the opening track on her 10th studio album, "Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel". It's an enticing promise, especially since we actually know so little of Carey's actual life (which in this tabloid age is a rare occurrence).

Sadly, nothing that follows gives any insight into Mariah the person or even Mariah the artist. "Memoirs" is a surprisingly turgid album, with each song settling into an unflattering, unmoving midtempo that blanches her hooks and makes the obviously expensive beats sound more or less interchangeable. "Standing O" aims for club-filling enormity, but there's nothing underpinning her soaring wordless chorus, which sounds strangely inert instead of triumphant. "Candy Bling" lags considerably, thanks primarily to its dated finger-snap beat and unimaginative appropriation of Ahmad's 1994 hit "Back in the Day".

"Obsessed", which was released a few months ago as a single, didn't exactly storm the charts (reportedly leading to an album delay, which is becoming the ultimate industry vote of no confidence). It's not hard to figure out why: The song consists mostly of bouncing taunts, with no memorable melodies or lyrical hooks. Like too much of the album, it just sits there.

Occasionally, "Memoirs" hints at the complications and contradictions that mark Carey's best work. "H.A.T.E.U." builds from a lugubrious ballad into a full-throated lament as Carey sings, "I can't wait to hate you." That line isn't a recrimination, but a plea to be done with the post-break-up mourning period, and Carey sings it with forlorn understatement.

Compare that with the sensationalist cover of Foreigner's "I Want to Know What Love Is", which sounds more like a cynical headline grabber than an apt showcase for Carey's pipes. Only occasionally does "Memoirs" display the joyous inventiveness of "The Emancipation of Mimi" or "E=MC2".

"Up Out My Face" shows Carey pissed and gloriously dismissive, as she rides the bounce of the beat with some of her most pointed vocals in recent memory. And she doesn't just sell the wobbly conceit of "The Impossible", but she does so with aplomb: "Love you like a freeze pop, love you like a milkshake, love you like a high school on a first date," she sings in a playful coo. A full album of such unlikely moments might have made "Memoirs" less imperfect.