It’s a trend: Justin Timberlake wants to make music, and big names follow. Four years ago, the boy-bander made his semi-self-titled debut in Justified — a bitter, funky mixture of club romps and intimate confessionals composed by MTV-familiar names like Pharrell and Timbaland. Now, Futuresex/Lovesounds’ resume of producers is simpler, but by no means less talented. Timbaland’s reunion with Timberlake in the production room — for all but two songs on the album — has made a sweet sound that is love child to the twang of Rick James and the magnetism of Prince. The addictive synthesis makes electronica a mainstay ingredient throughout the album, as heard in the robotic and undeniably showy “SexyBack.”
Still, only the most idealistic would expect an introspective effort from an ’NSync graduate. This album is all about pioneering and cutting-edge ambience, courtesy of Timbaland, that buttresses Timberlake’s soulful falsetto. The producer, ex-partner of Magoo, takes garish command of tracks like “Chop Me Up,” where the gangster bass of Three Six Mafia meets Timberlake’s soothing tone. Then there’s “What Comes Around,” bringing an exotic funk thats stays on hand for the rest of the album.
Strip away Timbaland and Rick Rubin, though, and the record is a bare-boned, unenthusiastic attempt at maturity (gasp — the post-Justified Timberlake spits the word “motherfucka”). This Timberlake lacks the sharp-tongued attraction of “Cry Me a River” and opts for a less-invested tryst away from his dedication to the R&B years of Michael Jackson. The lyrics hold strictly to the sex/love theme, with Timberlake writing “love notes” in “My Love” and getting sultry dimes “all over the floor” in “Sexy Ladies.” At his most inspired, the pop star croons a narrative about Bob, a crack addict who gets on the bad side of drugs. What the hell does Timberlake know about Bobby Brown?
