Latest album set is 1 part bad ballads,and 1 part boogie bliss
By Jim Farber

First LP - 2 stars
Second LP - 4 stars

WHITNEY HOUSTON "The Greatest Hits" (Arista)

Whitney Houston wants to let loose - badly. Speculation on any self-destructive methods she may have used to achieve this should be left to the gossip sharks, who smelled blood in the water months ago. But in terms of pure creativity, Houston uses her latest release as a constructive way to shake things up. Her "Greatest Hits" isn't a conventional best-of set. It's a bipolar affair split between two CDs, one of which recycles Houston's boring old ballads. The second LP collects thrilling dance remixes of her upbeat hits. The total set includes four never-before-released songs as well. Whitney Houston's 'Greatest Hits' is a bipolar affair. Everything great and worthy about the package can be found on the club-oriented LP. Dubbed "Throwdown," this album isn't just an ecstatic piece of party music - it utterly redefines Houston as an artist. No longer is she the ice queen of bourgeois pop, belting out idealized sap. Here she's the siren of dance music, brimming with edgy sexual release. Houston arises as Donna Summer for a new generation, only tweaked to the 10th power.

This isn't Houston's first attempt to step out. Her last LP, 1998's "My Love Is Your Love," took an initial swipe at contemporary R&B - and made her seem young and vital for the first time in her overly controlled career.

The new dance LP takes a giant step ahead on that score. Its remixes use High NRG and House production effects to create a world of uplift and joy. "It's Not Right (but It's Okay)" sheds its original role as a cool R&B track to become a gospel-disco blowout. "Heartbreak Hotel" gets a new sexuality and spunk.

In her old ballads, Houston used her herculean voice to push schmaltz. In her dance mixes, she exudes an erotic dynamism that no one else has the lung power to match.

The new stuff on the dance LP includes a duet with George Michael on "If I Told You That," blending their voices into a conspiratorial blur. Then there's a version of "The Star-Spangled Banner" that's bold enough to launch a thousand ships.

The ballad LP includes two new tracks of its own. There's a nice tête-à-tête with label mate Deborah Cox on "Same Script, Different Cast," which amounts to a grownup version of Brandy and Monica's "The Boy Is Mine." There's also a duet with Enrique Iglesias that makes cynical use of the Latin crossover craze. And as for all those soapy old ballads, their idealized view of romance becomes even more cloying when crowded together.

My suggestion: Use the ballad LP as a coaster at the party you will throw with the dance LP. The latter captures the artist Houston finally should become.