Kelly Clarkson‘s come a long way in just under a decade.

After becoming the first (and let’s be real, still easily the best) winner of American Idol in 2002, the singer first made her official mark with 2003′s Thankful, a debut collection complete with safe-yet-amazing post-Idol balladry (“Anytime”), soulful R&B-pop offerings (“Just Missed The Train”) and slightly rambunctious, attitude heavy pop-rock anthems, including “Miss Independent” and “Low.”

The runaway success of the latter two singles quickly helped to sculpt the sound of what would become Clarkson’s grand opus in 2004: Breakaway, one of the most defining pop records of the ’00′s–a pristine collection of electrifying pop-rock anthems produced by Max Martin, Dr. Luke and Ben Moody including “Behind These Hazel Eyes” and “Since U Been Gone” that officially shed the singer’s Idol image and quickly made Clarkson’s name synonymous to any and all things angst-pop.

Following the record-breaking success of Breakaway came My December in 2007. Generally dubbed as Clarkson’s “rebel moment,” Kelly opted to breakaway (pun!) from the familiar pop mold of her past and go a slightly less radio-friendly route, penning tougher, darker, and more revealing rock tracks than ever before. The album’s development led to a very heated, very public head-to-head power struggle between Clarkson and Sony BMG label head Clive Davis, who very openly professed his lack of faith in Clarkson’s upcoming release. And while My December–which spawned “Never Again” and the devastating power ballad “Sober”–was by no means a failure (in fact, it was generally received more favorably by critics than Breakaway), its performance was ultimately underwhelming.

In 2009, Clarkson returned once more with her fourth studio album, All I Ever Wanted. It was another strong release (as with every Clarkson album) and a smash hit, although marked with a certain by-the-numbers familiarity, including safe, radio-friendly anthems (“My Life Would Suck Without You”) and Katy Perry album rejects (“I Do Not Hook Up”). The album’s own cover painted the album’s narrative perfectly, featuring an uncomfortable Clarkson forced to half-smile against a schlocky, candy-coated Photoshop background. It was, in effect, a quiet acknowledgement that Davis had won this round.

Two more years have passed since then, leading to Clarkson’s fifth studio release: Stronger–the most perfect representation of harmony achieved.

Combining the power-pop anthems and radio friendly accessibility of Breakaway with the darker confessional appeal of My December, Stronger plays like the perfect marriage between artistic intent and label demand. It’s an effortless combination–counterbalancing the threat of overindulgence by an artist gone unchecked and the “sell-out” sound of a label with too many hands in the cookie jar–resulting in one of the strongest, most triumphant and wholly satisfying records of the year.

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I like my Kelly Clarkson the way French people like their steak: raw, bloody, and vulnerable.

Let’s face it: she releases her best material when Clive Davis isn’t acting like Mary fucking Poppins and trying to force spoonfuls of sugar down her throat. He is to her what Sam Lutfi was to Britney Spears or what Kalteen bars were to Regina George: the catalyst for an all around disconnect from personal reality (with a side of dramatic weight gain).

Kelly’s greatest work will unarguably forever be her third studio album, My December (I say unarguably because if you even try to argue this with me, just know that you’ll go down faster than Bionic’s album sales). That record featured truly heart-wrenching, beautiful and honest tracks like “Maybe” and “Sober,” dark and hurt songs like “Haunted” and “Irvine,” and the vindictively delicious slash-your-ex’s-tires-anthem “Never Again.”

The entire album was (while not commercially viable) completely flawless. Why? Because Kelly had full artistic control. It was her baby. The aural transcript of her attempting to cope with and move past the tremendous suffering her heart had been through.

Then, like a venomous spider, RCA Music Group CEO Clive Davis came crawling around to suck the life out of Kelly’s artistic integrity. Since My December did not perform nearly as well as Kelly’s previous album (2004’s Breakaway), he had her relinquish her reigns of control and tried to revamp her image to be more of a sugarcoated and generic bubblegum pop star.

The result? The spitefully titled All I Ever Wanted, featuring such inauthentic tracks as the Katy Perry-written “I Do Not Hook Up” and Beyonce’s horcrux, “Already Gone”. Even the album artwork was a slap in the face to Kelly. Gone was the lady in the red dress perched on a Tim Burton-esque staircase and in her place was the sad-eyed product of a brutal industry, posing in a leather jacket amidst a recycled backdrop from Britney’s Blackout album.

But then something miraculous happened. Tracks and demos from Kelly’s upcoming fifth album (set to be released this fall) started leaking online. Songs like “Let Me Down” and “I Forgive You” had Kelly returning to the dirty grunge of My December while songs like “What Doesn’t Kill You” blended that sound with the commercial dance-pop elements of her more mainstream hits like “My Life Would Suck Without You.” Could it be that Kelly’s new record will finally be a happy merging of her white and black swans?

It seems like all the signs are pointing to yes. The strongest example of this comes in the form of the leaks’ strongest track, “Dark Side.” The song opens with a soft jewelry box introduction, followed by the entrance of Kelly’s subdued vocals. This seemingly mid-tempo number, however, takes a sharp turn as it reaches its fast-paced, rocking, power-pop chorus.

“Everybody’s got a dark side / Do you love me? / Can you love mine? / Nobody’s a picture perfect/ But we’re worth it/ You know that we’re worth it / Will you love me / Even with my dark side?” Kelly belts over slick guitar riffs, pounding percussion and the slightest pulse of dance beats.

Lyrically, “Dark Side” is reminiscent of previous gems in Kelly’s repertoire such as “Can I Have A Kiss,” “Empty As I Am” and “Don’t” – all of which are self-aware songs about her looking for someone to love her despite her flaws. Musically, the track is composed of the soaring and triumphant pop/rock that made songs like “Since U Been Gone” and “Behind These Hazel Eyes” such standout smashes.

With “Dark Side,” it seems like divided Kelly-aholics can finally meet halfway. On one side, you can cry, rip up old pictures of an ex and scream-sing until your face is an unnatural shade of red. While on the other side, you can throw your hands up in the air and make like Paula Abdul by dancing like there’s no tomorrow. For the first time, it’s a win/win for both sides of the Clarkstan spectrum.

If the songs that have surfaced online are truly an indication of the direction Kelly Clarkson’s next album is going in, I am nothing but confident that it will be the best release of the year (yeah, I went there). While I understand that My December will never happen again, I believe that “Dark Side” is the closest we’ll ever get to it – and that makes it easily the most refreshing and exciting song I’ve heard in months.

So, this is something new and interesting.

The night before my interview with Sky Ferreira, I received a vaguely mysterious e-mail from MuuMuse reader Sam Lansky with an attachment entitled “Fame Fatale.” The e-mail suggested that the attached may assist me in preparing for my interview.

As soon as I began reading, I already knew: This had to be published immediately.

“Fame Fatale” is not only a remarkably in-depth analysis (and personal account) of Ferreira’s curious rise to fame, but a thoughtful contemplation of the manufacturing of the modern pop star and the very conventions of the music industry itself. It’s extremely well-researched, poses tough questions, and deserves your full attention.

With his permission, I’ve asked Sam to feature his article on MuuMuse. It’s an incredible piece, and I do highly recommend that all of my Muusers give it a thorough reading–even if it’s “tl;dr” territory.

I do, after all, hope to keep a literate company.

Click “Read More…” to read Sam Lansky’s “Fame Fatale: The Rise of Sky Ferreira.”

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