Justin Timberlake
FutureSex/LoveSounds

THE REVIEW

If you were to ask me what my trusted little shop is, the one from which I most often source precious musical raw material, I would sadly tell you that lately it has been the Virgin space at Heathrow airport. And I can assure you that the quality of the musical offerings there has plummeted.

This useless and cloying preamble should serve to justify at least partly the decision to review the album in question, but in reality, it only manages to sadden the writer and, probably, to piss off the reader. But as we know, the beginning is always the hardest part...

We won't talk about the personality Justin Timberlake. For gossip, there are surely more informed sources. As for Justin Timberlake, the singer, we will say just what's necessary: yet another spin-off of yet another boy band (‘N Sync), he debuted solo in 2002 with an album more aimed at grabbing a few MTV Awards than entering Scaruffi's annual electronica (after all, who can blame him?), and then returned to the scene a few weeks ago with a new release with the emblematic title "FutureSex/LoveSounds".

Now, this latest album would have remained in my personal oblivion, as I believe it has in that of many of you if it weren't that I frequent the pages of Pitchfork, the influential music review site, known for its highly sophisticated tendencies. The result: the aforementioned "FutureSex/LoveSounds" scores 8.1 out of 10 and ranks 25th among the fifty best albums of the year, ahead of Sonic Youth, Herbert, Califone, and other folks of this caliber. Stupidly influenced by this judgment and perplexed by the fact that I seem to have already raided everything interesting in past visits, this time I end up leaving the 12 pounds with the obliging cashier at Virgin to take away my brand-new Justin Timberlake CD.

Since at the gate, Alitalia's AZ237 is announced to depart with the usual hour delay ("cart problems," the ground attendant admits candidly), Timberlake gets his trial by fire right away. That this cunning guy aspires to become the Michael Jackson of the new millennium (with a more noticeably straight and, if possible, raunchy image) is evident even to my doorkeeper, and listening to "FutureSex/LoveSounds" might even make it seem like a plausible aspiration. Because amidst genuinely garish tracks, our Justin also throws in some glimpses of genius which must be acknowledged, even if you're one of those whom hip hop causes severe skin irritation. Of course, the poetics leave much to be desired, and if you take away the noun "baby" and the adjective "sexy," there's very little left. But does anyone really care what Justin has to say?

So, press "play," and here we go: the title track and the following "Sexyback" (sigh) require almost immediate skipping, but "Sexy Ladies" is actually listenable, "LoveStoned" has a nice retro sound that's very 70s disco complete with background strings, "What Goes Around" is a saccharine ballad that at times sounds like it's sung by the Bee Gees, and above all, forgive me, "Damn Girl" is a little gem between dub and funky, with keyboards that get into your head and remind you of how much you loved Prince and his music before puberty took a part of you away.

With the last few tracks a bit anonymous, the album completes its course and if the laptop still had a few minutes of battery life and they weren't calling passengers for boarding at this very moment, there are at least 4-5 tracks really worth re-listening to.