Justin Timberlake-Futuresex-Lovesounds-UK Retail-CD-FLAC-2006-FORSAKEN
Description :
Artist : Justin Timberlake
Album : Futuresex/Lovesounds Label : Jive Genre : Pop Source : CD Street Date : 2006-09-11 Quality : 954 kbps / 44.1kHz / 2 channels Encoder : FLAC 1.2.1
Size : 509.89 MB
Time : 71:02 min Url : http://www.justintimberlake.com
1. FutureSex/LoveSound 4:01 2. Sexyback (feat. Timbaland) 4:02 3. Sexy Ladies/Let Me Talk to You (Prelude) 5:32 4. My Love (feat. T.I.) 4:36 5. Lovestoned/I Think She Knows (Interlude) 7:24 6. What Goes Around… Comes Around (Interlude) 7:28 7. Chop Me Up (feat. Timbaland & Three 6 Mafia) 5:04 8. Damn Girl (feat. Will.i.am) 5:12 9. Summer Love/Set The Mood (Prelude) 6:24 10. Until the End of Time 5:22 11. Losing My Way 5:22 12. (Another Song) All Over Again 5:49 13. Pose (feat. Snoop Dogg) (Bonus Track) 4:46
Give Justin Timberlake credit for this: he has ambition. He may
not have good instincts and may bungle his execution, but he sure
has ambition and has ever since he was the leading heartthrob in
*NSYNC. He drove the teen pop quintet to the top of the charts,
far exceeding their peers the Backstreet Boys, and when the group
could achieve no more, he eased into a solo career that earned
him great sales and a fair amount of praise, largely centered on
how he reworked the dynamic sound of early Michael Jackson at a
time when Jacko was so hapless he turned away songs that later
became JT hits, as in the Neptunes-propelled “Rock Your Body.”
That song and “Cry Me a River” turned his 2002 solo debut,
Justified, into a blockbuster, which in turn meant that he
started to be taken seriously — not just by teens-turned-adult,
but also by some rock critics and Hollywood, who gave him no less
than three starring roles in the wake of Justified. Those films
all fell victim to endless delays — Alpha Dog aired at Sundance
2006 but didnt see release that year, nor did Black Snake Moan,
which got pushed back until 2007, leaving Edison Force, a roundly
panned Shattered Glass-styled thriller that sneaked out onto
video, as the first Timberlake film to see the light of day —
but even if silver screen stardom proved elusive, Justin didnt
seem phased at all, and his fall 2006 album FutureSex/LoveSounds
proves why: hed been pouring all his energy into his second
album to ensure that he didnt have a sophomore slump.
If Michael Jackson was the touchstone for Justified, Prince
provides the cornerstone of FutureSex/LoveSounds, at least to a
certain extent — Timbaland, Timberlakes chief collaborator here
(a move that invites endless endlessly funny
“Timbaland/Timberlake” jokes), does indeed spend plenty of time
on FutureSex refurbishing the electro-funk of Princes early-80s
recordings, just like he did with Nelly Furtados Loose, and
Timberlakes obsession with sex does indeed recall Princes
carnivorous carnality of the early 80s. But execution is
everything, particularly with Timberlake, and if the clumsy title
of FutureSex/LoveSounds wasnt a big enough tip-off that
something is amiss here — the clear allusion to Speakerboxxx/The
Love Below would seem like an homage if there werent the nagging
suspicion that Timberlake didnt realize that the OutKast album
bore that title because it was two records in one — a quick
listen to the albums opening triptych proves that Justin doesnt
quite bring the robotic retro-future funk hes designed to life.
Hell, a quick look at the titles of those first three songs shows
some cracks in the albums architecture, as they reveal how
desperate and literal Timberlakes sex moves are. Each of the
three opening songs has “sex” sandwiched somewhere within its
title, as if mere repetition of the word will magically conjure a
sex vibe, when in truth it has the opposite effect: it makes it
seem that Justin is singing about it because hes not getting it.
Surely, his innuendos are bluntly obvious, packing lots of
swagger but no machismo or grace. They merely recycle familiar
scenarios — making out on the beach, dancing under hot lights,
acting like a pimp — in familiar fashions, marrying them to
grinding, squealing synths that never sound sweaty or sexy; if
theyre anything, theyre the sound of bad anonymous sex in a
club, not an epic freaky night with a sex machine like, say,
Prince. But Prince isnt the only idol Justin Timberlake wants to
emulate here. Like any young man with a complex about his
maturity, he wants to prove that hes an adult now by singing not
just about sex but also serious stuff, too — meaning, of course,
that drugs are bad and can ruin lives. Like the Arctic Monkeys
deploring the scummy men who pick up cheap hookers in Sheffield,
Justin has read about the pipe and the damage done — he may not
have seen it, but he sure knows that it happens somewhere, and
hes put together an absurd Stevie Wonder-esque slice of protest
pop in “Losing My Way,” where he writes in character of a man who
had it all and threw it all away…or, to use Justins words,
“Hi, my name is Bob/And I work at my job,” which only goes to
show that Timberlake lacks a sense of grace no matter what he
chooses to write about.
Graceless he may be, but Timberlake is nevertheless kind of
fascinating on FutureSex/LoveSounds since his fuses a clear
musical vision — misguided, yes, but clear all the same — with
a hammyness that only a child entertainer turned omnipresent 21st
century celebrity can be. Timberlake yearns to be taken
seriously, to be a soulful loverman like Marvin Gaye coupled with
the musical audaciousness of Prince, yet still sell more records
than Michael Jackson — and he not only yearns for that
recognition, he feels entitled to it, so hes cut and pasted
pieces from all their careers, cobbling together his own
blueprint, following it in a fashion where every wrong move is
simultaneously obvious and surprising. There is no subtlety to
his music, nor is there much style — hes charmless in his
affectations, and theres nothing but affectations in his music.
At least this accumulation of affectations does amount to a
semblance of personality this time around — hes still a slick
cipher as a singer, yet he is undeniably an auteur of some sort,
one who has created an album thats stilted and robotic, but one
who doggedly carries it through to its logical conclusion, so the
club jams and slow jams both feel equally distant and calculated.
There is, however, a flair within the production, particularly in
how foreign yet familiar its retro-future vibe sounds.
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