Content:
Label: RCA Records
Released: 15th March 2024
In an era where nostalgia sells, and self-awareness is supposed to be pop’s new currency, Justin Timberlake’s latest offering, ‘Everything I Thought It Was’, lands with a thud. Timberlake, once the prince of pop’s sexy back and forth, attempts a grand return but ends up serving a platter of lyrical cheese so rich, it could single-handedly sustain a fondue restaurant for months.
The truth is, there’s nothing less sexy than a man in his forties talking about “ass” and “titties”. Like having Dad recite the dirty talk he used to bag Mum, it provokes revulsion. Even Justin – a man who has managed to make some proper clunkers sound like the height of seduction previously – eventually succumbs to the cringe.
From the get-go, ‘Memphis’ promises an introspective journey, hinting at Timberlake’s wrestling with the shadows of fame. Yet, any hopes of a deep dive into his psyche are quickly dashed as we’re whisked away on a tour of Timberlake’s well-established territories: the dance floors and bedrooms, but with lyrics that feel more like they belong in a parody than on the playlist of a former pop titan.
The album swings wildly between attempts at sensuality and the lines that make you reflexively wince. On tracks like ‘Infinity Sex’ and ‘Technicolor’, Timberlake seems to aim for the sultry heights of his past but ends up delivering lines that sound less like the whispers of a seasoned lover and more like the clumsy flirtations of someone who’s just discovered the word “sexy” in a thesaurus. Quite why we should “pray this hotel room is insured” when “all your clothes hit the floor” remains unclear, but it sounds more like the basis of a police investigation than an effective come-on.
‘Fuckin’ Up The Disco’ tries to channel the spirit of Michael Jackson and Prince, yet despite its slick production and undeniable groove, the lyrics stumble over themselves in a bid to be both cool and seductive, achieving neither. ‘Play’, with its hints of Bowie’s ‘Fame’, turns from potential club banger to a jumble of clichés about luxury and desire that fail to ignite.
Even when Timberlake teams up with his *NSYNC bandmates for ‘Paradise’, what could have been a moment of genuine warmth and nostalgia feels like a missed opportunity, instead highlighting what so much of the rest of the record isn’t. It’s a moment that highlights not the power of reunion, but rather the gulf between the artist Timberlake once was and the mildly creepy persona he now inhabits.
‘Everything I Thought It Was’ could have been a moment of reinvention or a deep, reflective exploration of fame, love, and the complexities of public life. Instead, it feels like a fading pop star trying too hard to recapture a lost sexual dynamo. The result is an album that’s out of step, a collection of songs that neither thrill nor deeply move, punctuated by lyrical missteps that too often veer into the realm of an almost primal level of the ick. In attempting to straddle the worlds of past glories and contemporary relevance, Timberlake delivers an album that fails to find its footing in either. ‘Everything I Thought It Was’ stands as a stark reminder that sexy never really went away, but perhaps, for Timberlake – a man who, let’s remember, would “like to take this opportunity to apologise to absolutely fucking nobody” – it might have been better if it had.
==============================
Image
==============================
URL
==============================
Source
Dork
==============================
Full content
[#item_full_content]