What's the first album you ever bought, reader? I'm not talking about the Mozart for Developing Fetuses DVD your parents received as a baby shower present; I mean the first album you picked out yourself and convinced your parents you would literally die if you didn't have it. I still remember it like it was yesterday, sitting there in the JC Penney bag on top of whatever weird matching clothes my parents were still dressing my brother and me in at that point, gleaming in all its cassette tape glory: "*NSYNC."
I'll save you the next 14 years of the story, but the point is, there's always been a special place in my heart for Justin Timberlake. He's come an incredibly long way from those days of boy band stardom and ramen noodle-esque hair, morphing into one of the most respected, talented and adventurous pop stars of the modern era.
So this week I'm excited to cast aside my art-rock pretension and speak to you from the heart: if you're not one of the 900,000 people who have already bought "The 20/20 Experience," go do it. Like, now.
Despite my tangible JT man-crush, I went into "20/20" with relatively low expectations. Pop isn't usually a genre that shines in album form. Even the best pop records play more like collections of singles fleshed out to LP length with mediocre tracks than cohesive artistic statements.
But where 2002s "Justified" revolved around two hit singles and the 2006 smash "FutureSex/LoveSounds" failed to maintain its catchiness after a stellar first half, "20/20" is deep, varied and well-sequenced. Revered pop-producer Timbaland lays down a diverse palate of tracks, largely ditching the minimalist techno-funk that drove "FutureSex" for a more lush and melodic sound that really allows Timberlake to shine.
On first listen, lead single "Suit and Tie" is cloying and cliched, sounding like a half-baked sketch for a Barney Stinson theme song. But Timbaland's beat saves the song as it bounces like a rollerskating jam from the future, and Timberlake's slinky swagger in the verses more than makes up for the cheesy chorus and the nearly-damning Jay-Z cameo.
"Spaceship Coupe" is built on a similarly absurd concept, in which Timberlake invites a lucky young lady to hop into his "space lover cocoon" and make love on the moon. Go ahead and try that line in the mirror, gentlemen; I guarantee you'll sound like an alien sex predator. But Timberlake is so confident and cheeky that somehow it works, as the burning Prince guitar solo melts into his sexy falsetto. However, like a lot of the songs on "20/20," it's about two minutes too long.
Some of the extended breakdowns give Timbaland a fantastic showcase for his production skills, like the frenzied dance floor workouts that make the less-than-stellar "Don't Hold the Wall" and "Let the Groove Get In" worthwhile. But, as live performances from Timberlake's "Timberweek" performances on "Late Night with Jimmy Fallon" prove, most of the songs lose little even by shaving multiple minutes.
Where the fun songs are more than worthwhile, "20/20" is an album of maturation for Timberlake, and he shines the brightest on the love songs, when the busy productions strip away and the spotlight is on his voice and his lyrics. There are four great ballads here, each of which allows Timberlake to showcase his skills over a unique, adventurous arrangement.
"Tunnel Vision" is a classic Timbaland/Timberlake collaboration, skittering beats and strings echoing back and forth as Timberlake wows with heartfelt lines such as, "I look around and everything I see is beautiful, cause all I see is you."
"That Girl" is a modern take on Memphis soul; Timberlake croons like Otis Redding over buttery guitar lines and a catchy horn section. It's the shortest and sweetest song here, the only track to come in at under five minutes, and it never overstays its welcome.
"Blue Ocean Floor" is the most adventurous track of the album. Timberlake cribs the wounded beauty of Frank Ocean as Timbaland crafts a soundscape that shows his incredible versatility as a producer and allows Timberlake's majestic vocals to take center stage.
But the highlight of "20/20," and perhaps of Timberlake's career, is "Mirrors." It's the album's longest song, yet it doesn't waste a single second, delivering eight minutes of pure pop perfection over a lush, fleshed-out arrangement. It's the longest and most earnest song here, but it never feels like overkill. In fact, it might be the first eight-minute song since "Stairway to Heaven" to get daily (and well-deserved) radio play.
At this point in his career, Justin Timberlake has nothing left to prove. He's done sexy, he's done funny and he's done sweet, and he's done them better than almost anyone else in the pop game. It's not often that I'll throw my full support behind a pop LP, but "20/20" earns my wholehearted seal of approval.
