But hey, at least Avril Lavigne's ruthlessly upbeat "Girlfriend" will save you money on Zoloft.

"All I wanted to do was just write really fun songs that weren't serious, and, like, breakup boyfriend songs," Lavigne says of the high-energy nature of her latest disc, "The Best Damn Thing" and its aforementioned first single. "My previous record, 'Under My Skin,' was really dark and deep, and so I got that out and spent a whole year and a half singing those songs. Now I can have fun and just jump around onstage."

Lavigne's made a name for herself by straddling the tightrope between being a pop pinup and the kind of self-assertive tomboy who stiffens the upper lips of teen girls the world over.

As such, control is always a big issue for her, and in this way, she's distanced herself from her prefab pop counterparts who seldom write any of their own songs and largely have their albums assembled for them.

"I basically went in the studio and told my manager and record company that nobody could hear anything until I'm done," Lavigne says of the making of her latest disc. "I was literally in the studio racking up studio bills for six months and no one heard anything, which I'm sure made them very nervous.

"I was like, 'I just don't want to play anything for anyone, because I don't want to hear anyone's opinion or thoughts," she continues. "I don't want it to mess up what I'm thinking, and I wanted to be clear on what songs I thought were best. I did that, and then I sat my manager and my record company down and played it."

And it turns out to have been the right move, as "Best Damn Thing" is Lavigne's loosest, most infectious disc, a glib, slap-happy outing where the songs whizz by like candy-coated cannon fire.

Whereas most artists who burst into the spotlight while still in their teens struggle to demonstrate their maturity on successive albums, Lavigne has taken the opposite route, bashing out her most impulsively juvenile disc yet, a sneering, leering study of the female id.

On it, Lavigne sounds more comfortable in her own skin than she ever has before.

"Well, a lot of people don't know this about me, but I'm actually shy around people I don't know," Lavigne says of growing increasingly accustomed to having a substantial public profile. "With my first concerts, my first tour, I didn't really talk onstage, I was like, 'Thank you, I love you guys,' or whatever. But now I've just kind of learned to work a crowd.

"I've played so many shows, it's been five years, and I've just kind of learned how to talk to an audience," she adds. "I was always comfortable singing, but being a performer is a totally different thing. You want to keep the crowd watching you and interested and excited, so that's why now I feel like, 'Alright, I get to do this.' "

Along the way, Lavigne often has been cast as the anti-Britney, a designation that she wouldn't self-apply, but won't argue with too much.

And so even though her shows are more choreographed than they used to be, Lavigne sees clear distinctions between herself and the Ashlee Simpsons of the world, those preening pop Barbie dolls next to a woman who always has fancied herself an action figure.

"My songs aren't bubble gum pop dance songs, and I don't have background dancers on every single song like them," she says. "It's a totally different thing. I'm playing guitar. I'm playing the drums. I'm playing the piano.

"Planning this tour, I wanted it to be big and bigger, and I was very careful to make sure that I didn't do anything too much," she continues. "Anything that ever feels uncomfortable to me or if I ever question something, I scrap it. I'm just very clear on who I am."

Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at jbracelin@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0476.