The enigma of Lady Gaga keeps shifting.

One of the biggest pop superstars of our time is also the most varied — from starting as a clubby, bombastic queer icon, going to art pop auteur, to jazz protégé, to country crossover darling, to house pandemic relief, to big-screen debuts superb (A Star Is Born) and forgettable (Joker: Folie à Deux). But now, Lady Gaga is back with MAYHEM, the dance-pop, club icon returning to her roots (though this was also somewhat promised with Chromatica). It’s an assorted mix.

MAYHEM’s entrance was somewhat predictable. “Disease” and “Abracadabra” — surprise-dropped during the GRAMMYs, where she accepted an award for a song wholly different in vibe — were pounding, throbbing dancefloor slammers cut with soaring vocals and nonsensical vowels. They were brash, loud, dark, but more than a little see-through; these songs are great, infused with an energy we haven’t heard from her in years, but when you think of a Gaga mega-pop comeback, this is standard fare (“Stupid Love” had a similar problem). Even its videos are screaming for icon status. But they’re certainly not unwelcome — these maximalist pop smashes are early highlights.

Fortunately, the rest of MAYHEM isn’t as predictable. It’s a weirder and funkier record than the packaging lets on — grungy, dark, born out of chaos. “Killah” slyly mixes David Bowie and Prince funk — it’s as if she and Janelle Monáe met up in the studio. “Garden Of Eden” is a callback to her electroclash, with its haphazard production and hedonistic spirit (“I could be your girlfriend for the weekend / You could be my boyfriend for the night”). “Zombieboy” is theatrical, disco heaven that uses Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl” to pay tribute to her late friend and collaborator — not tear-jerking but pure fun. And she’s a Michael Jackson reincarnate on “Shadow Of A Man,” a vocal performance highlight. Same goes for “Perfect Celebrity,” a pop-rock anthem where she growls about the transnational nature of fame (which she’s interrogated since the aptly titled album The Fame Monster). “You make me money, I’ll make you laugh,” she says, dangerously real in spite of the exaggeration.

But MAYHEM’s thrilling first half leads to a lagging finish. The rest of the songs dance around simplistic pop stereotypes and traditions; whereas the songs listed above were genuine surprises, everything else feels inessential. Take “How Bad Do U Want Me,” an awkwardly bubbly cut whose wide-eyed pleading doesn’t match what she’s saying. “You like my hair, my ripped-up jeans / You like the bad girl I got in me,” goes the most radio-friendly track on the record. “LoveDrug” is a clear throwback to the early 2010s, and though she sounds convincing, the subject matter is disastrously dated: “I don’t wanna feel, I don’t wanna cry / So I’m gonna dance ‘till I feel alright.” This was basically the idea that Chromatica wrapped itself up around, anyway. The vocoder on “Don’t Call Tonight” is similarly vague, and “Vanish Into You” masks Gaga the entertainer behind an 80’s synth line — there’s not really anything to distinguish it from a Dua Lipa or The Weeknd track.

MAYHEM closes with three ballads, the best of which is the Bruno Mars debut she tacked onto the end, despite the mismatch in sound. Both are powerhouse singers, and the soft-rock sound and momentum suits both as they sing about love at the end of the world. “The Beast” gets close to MAYHEM’s ideas of inner madness, but its time motifs get a little tired (“You can’t hide who you are, 11:59”). And while “Blade of Grass” is a heartfelt tribute to her fiancé, its melody is a little flat, and again, stands out from the rest of the record.

Gaga has always skewed towards the dramatic (in performance and acting), but MAYHEM’s lyrics reach the zenith of melodrama. An assorted collection of her hammy sayings: “Choke on the fame and hope it gets you high”; “River in my eyes, I’ve got a poem in my throat”; “The good girl in your dreams / Is mad you’re lovin’ me”; “Bring me your desire, I can cure your disease / If you were a sinner, I could make you believe”; “Hold me in your heart tonight / In the magic of the dark moonlight.” And though it fits with the sleazy vibe of the song, it’s so tough to get past the first verse of “Zombieboy”: “Standin’ on the corner, smokin’ that grass / And the boys all pass me by / Talkin’ some shit with your hand on my ass / I’m a murderer in disguise.”

MAYHEM is a mixed bag of glowing, wildly interesting tracks that reveal a new persona to Gaga — one that reaches towards the past to pull some odd, cryptic inspirations — cut with songs that could have been made by anyone. MAYHEM slightly underdelivers on its promise of soul-searching, grunge, and exploring the depths of the mind, but the old Gaga comes back in bursts of light. If only she were there for the entire runtime.

Order Mayhem by Lady Gaga HERE