The Cookbook

Critics and fans were praising Missy Elliott and Timbaland so much during 2002-2003 that the hottest production combo in hip-hop may have started believing that a great production is synonymous with a great song. This Is NOT a Test!, her first major mistake, featured cutting-edge tracks in abundance, but virtually nothing in the way of heavyweight material. Whether a result of her last album's relatively tepid sales or merely because Timbaland is finally starting to make good on his promise to retire, the message of The Cookbook reads clear: this meal is 100% Missy. New album brings the focus back to Missy the rapper and songwriter, wisely (in most cases) leaving the productions to a more varied cast than any of her previous records.

Elliott herself produced the lead single, Lose Control, giving it a tight electro feel (courtesy of some vintage '80s samples from Cybotron and Hot Streak). It's only the first nod to the type of old-school party jam that Elliott does better than ever here and it shows Elliott's ongoing willingness to search further than any other hip-hop artist for inspiration. The ballads Elliott takes charge of are too bizarre to be boring: for reasons known only to herself she punctuates Remember When's lachrymose lyrics and electric piano with wildly inappropriate shrieks, whoops and triumphant cries of "yes!" Joy, the first and better of the two Timbaland tracks, is a steamy, slow-bumping Jacuzzi with 8-bit synth triangle for bubbles and a sultry half-speed breakdown that unfortunately serves as the overture to a flat cameo by Mike Jones. On the other end of the album – and the spectrum of quality – are M.I.A. and Vybez Cartel dusting their exotic patois over Bad Man, a booming gene-splice between the drum cadences of Destiny's Child's Lose My Breath and the epic kick thuds of the Chemical Brothers' The Test. The Neptunes-produced On and On is a sexy racket featuring military drums, electronic buzzing and a bizarre effect somewhere between a record scratching and a submarine's sonar ping. We Run This and Can't Stop - the latter the work of Crazy in Love producer Rich Harrison - are both unreasonably exciting, wrapping ferocious old funk horns around futuristic beats.

Most thrilling of all is Irresistible Delicious, a collaboration with veteran rapper "Slick Rick" Rogers. Elliott twists his two most famously offensive tracks to her own ends - stealing the riff from Lick the Balls and subverting the lyrics of Treat Her Like a Prostitute - then mimics his distinctive sly, sing-song delivery to perform a rap so sexually predatory that even Rogers sounds a bit disconcerted at its close. Back on top, sounding as unique and startling and formidable as ever, Missy Elliott is clearly not a woman to be messed with. The Cookbook is a convincing return to form. Six albums in, her recipe for success is still pretty fresh. She continues maturing right before our ears. Missy is becoming increasingly comfortable in her own skin and exudes an assuredness throughout The Cookbook for no matter what she does and no matter where she's coming from. She's no longer the weird kid who has to dress herself up in weirder beats to make a mark – she can take on the Top 40 and completely own it.