Justin Timberlake - The 20/20 Experience

It's not a secret any more that Timbaland has a tendency of late - and by 'of late' I mean anything after 2007 - to rather over-egg his production duties and leave his work with the trudging monotony of a uniquely Timbaland variety. Madonna's Hard Candy, Bjork's Volta and Jay-Z's third Blueprint were all testament to a hit-and-miss, uninspired detour that the man had taken not months after M.I.A.'s excellent Kala or Nelly Furtado's single-handed greatest hits Loose. One such artist that remained firmly rooted in Timbaland's list of successes due to a musical hiatus was Justin Timberlake. 2006's FutureSex/LoveSounds was that rarest of albums: a massive commercial success and simultaneously an artistic, slick masterpiece of pop music. It's conjured all sorts of contemporary assertions that 2006 was a better time for music than today (conveniently ignoring, of course, McFly covering the Beatles, Akon's apex and the fact that Mariah Carey still had a career).

With the sudden release of Mirrors, there was a rush of excitement and a genuine feeling that Timbaland had regained his Midas touch. Who else could pull off an 8-minute #1 hit that was as magnificent as it was successful? Unfortunately, it's that length and the more-than-occasional tendency to drift off and let beats and sections go on for too long that make the 20/20 Experience seem somewhat unfocussed.

Swanning in with his very own Bond themelike orchestral introduction, 'Pusher Love Girl' straight away gets across the album's central classy vibe (later to be done to almost parody lengths on Suit and Tie). Melodically it's pretty sound, and there's a resplendence about it that's certainly appealing, but clocking in at eight minutes and two seconds it's just not remotely boasting enough ideas to require the billing. The rattling in the last three minutes, separated by Timbaland's signature "ah"s and "yeah"s, particularly grates, and leaves Timberlake with the uncomfortable task of riffing more and more about drug/addiction/love metaphors ("Uh, my nicotine, my blue dream, my hydroponic candy jelly bean / Did you fix me up, I'm your number 1 fiend" - really?) It's this laziness and boredom that completely spoils the introduction to 'Suit & Tie', the album's lead single. The opening 42 seconds - just why? What's the point? Build momentum and suspense? We've just had four unnecessary minutes. Boast some form of swag with the "suit and tie shit"? Kanye pretty much tore up that claim. Once the single gets into its stride, however, it is on fire - a sublime concoction of horns, innocent flirtatious lyrics and background harps. Its greatest strength though is Timberlake's vocal, a showcasing falsetto with some really fun rhythms. Jay-Z, however, does his usual waning-career pop appearance that really stretches the memory as to when he last did a good verse. The production of 'Don't Hold the Wall' then brings in various other cultures to the track's central beat, giving it a vaguely Indian subcontinent appeal. Again, though, it's ultimately seven minutes of asking a girl to loosen up a bit - although there're enough distractions to make you lose track of time; the second half especially livens up the party.

We come to the album's first true nadir with 'Strawberry Bubblegum': a song as innocuously sickly-sweet as the title would suggest. Though to some there may be some intrigue in a celebrity marriage and the vibrant romance between the pair, it all just completely bores me. "You and me: that's the recipe for a good time/ and it ain't really nothing but clothes in the way" he smoulders in the second verse, and if that doesn't make you cringe you need to tone down your libido. 'Tunnel Vision' then stretches out his devotion for Biel with a whole camera-fixation spiel - admittedly over a far catchier and more interesting instrumental. The daftness steps up a notch though with 'Spaceship Coupe': "We'll cruise around/ Land and make love on the moon/ would you like that?" I doubt it Justin, since you'd both suffocate instantly. 

Some successful attempts at cool are made, though: the club-speaker intro to 'That Girl' with Timberlake's live orchestra 'JT and the Tennessee Kids' is a nice touch, and kicks off a slow, nice jazz jam. There's even an element of Gloria Estefan about the hugely rambunctious 'Let the Groove Get In' and its Burkina Faso inspiration, although again, it could really do with being at least two minutes shorter. One song I'll happily endure in its fullest is second single 'Mirrors', an overblown classic Timbaland production split into two parts: the first, a slick, melodic and anthemic proclamation of love, and the second a tender and purely idiosyncratic moment. The lyrics are totally corny, sure (note to self: drop the 90s colloquialisms), but they are delivered with enough passion to last a lifetime, and the ending sequence feels more like the sweet post-coital whisperings than any of the album's other attempts at pillow talk. We conclude (on the standard edition, anyway - I haven't got time for your deluxe editions) with 'Blue Ocean Floor', another slice that could just as easily have been lifted from 2006-Justin. It's a pretty cute allusion to being able to escape the world and tap into one another as soulmates, and its reeling, hushed production really adds a layer of authenticity to an otherwise showy album.

Really, the only song truly able to keep me interested for its entirety is the adorability-fest of Mirrors: there, at least, the drawn out ending had melodic diversions, romantic moments and the feeling that this was more than one stretched out dreary song. That complaint befalls much of The 20/20 Experience, and whilst some of the pieces and ideas promise intrigue, they are hammered to death by Timbaland's inability to know when to call it quits. Timberlake, on the other hand, is on fine form, and rightly lays claim to the current apex of male popstars (we can't say King of Pop okay so just don't). Let's hope this whole idea that he's the king of cool disappears pretty fast, because it's hard to take a former Mickey Mouse Playhouse member without a small hint of irony.

also, fuck pitchfork for giving this a higher score than Bowie's comeback. fuck it up the ass.

Rating: 5.5/10
Highlights: Mirrors; Let the Groove In; Pusher Love Girl; That Girl
Avoid: Strawberry Bubblegum; Spaceship Coupe

Artwork Watch: If only such clarity in vision had been applied to the songwriting :(
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