Pop music shows up in prominent and irreverent ways within the Charlie’s Angels universe. The original TV show’s brassy theme song is as indelible as the image of the franchise’s three detectives in silhouette, and the campy film reboot in 2000 used a wealth of inspired syncs: a high-flying alleyway battle set to the Prodigy; Sam Rockwell shimmying in his evil lair to Pharoahe Monch; even Cameron Diaz doing the whitest Soul Train routine of all time to Sir Mix-A-Lot. That lovable version of the crime-fighting Angels, of course, also brought about “Independent Women (Part 1),” Destiny’s Child’s inescapable tie-in empowerment anthem that became the longest-running No. 1 of that year and the group’s most successful crossover single ever.

It’s an inevitably long shadow for Ariana Grande, who enters the fray this month by executive producing the soundtrack for an Elizabeth Banks-directed update coming to theaters. Brought in to represent “not just the theme of the movie but the audience,” Grande is a natural fit for 2019’s Angels, with enough effortless charm and cultural cachet to hold court over the soundtrack’s assembly of high-wattage, all-women guest stars. Yet for all of its promise in the wake of Grande’s slinky, accomplished thank u, next earlier this year, Charlie’s Angels instead smooths over any and all hard edges, opting for big-budget pop grabs and glossy filler that undermine the impressive lineup of talent.

Grande addresses the “Independent Women” elephant head-on with “Don’t Call Me Angel,” a drab pop collaboration between herself, Miley Cyrus, and Lana Del Rey. With a narcotized delivery and hammering metallic bells, “Don’t Call Me Angel” will absolutely be forgotten in each artists’ respective discographies within the year, and for good reason: Where Destiny’s Child organically drew on female empowerment by speaking directly to a generation of working women and encouraging them to command authority, Grande’s song slings demands exclusively at men in its confounding bid for control. It’s only empowering at the most remedial level.

The balmier pop-R&B cut “Bad to You,” with Grande regulars Normani and Nicki Minaj, coasts on better chemistry and Normani’s swooning voice, plus some outsized Max Martin production. Nevertheless, with Minaj sleepwalking through her verse and lyrics that once again exclusively chide male partners, it barely rises above mid-tier. The rest of Grande’s braintrust of collaborators fare better: Victoria Monét joins her for the trappy “Got Her Own,” bouncing featherlight vocal runs off each other like they’re in a round of badminton. And “How I Look on You,” Grande’s only solo feature, is a self-reflexive dark pop highlight, ripped through with a sluggish guitar line, trap snares, and sharp rejoinders to a character who finds her star power more appealing than her personality. It may be microwaved thank u, next, but it’s still a solid reminder of Grande’s songwriting finesse when she isn’t mobbed by guests.

Because for as stacked as the Angels tracklist is, listening to it in full feels unhinged: There’s “Nobody,” a forgettable house-pop song with Chaka Khan that somehow bears zero relation to “Ain’t Nobody” and which not even Khan herself can bother feigning excitement for. It’s as doomed as an obligatory EDM-lite remix of Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls,” or the overproduced squad feature that opens the album with literal fanfare, “How It’s Done,” which finds Kash Doll and Stefflon Don trying their best under Kim Petras’ big, shouty chorus. That kind of keyed-up energy that spans the soundtrack might be electrifying—or at least make some sense—during an action sequence in the film. On its own, it just scans as low-grade exhausting.

The most vexing aspect of this Charlie’s Angels soundtrack is that the levity and camp at the heart of the series never comes into focus. The truth is that Grande is a perfect choice for the film and its audience: a bona fide pop idol, wunderkind, and businesswoman with a sharp sense of humor and a cohort of multitalented women in her inner circle—all elements that could have led to an artfully playful soundtrack that breathed new life into an iconic, female-fronted, big-budget action machine. But with an outcome this ordinary, it just sounds like Grande is cashing in.