The first two extracts from Justin Timberlake’s sixth album did not arouse great enthusiasm, and not only because of Britney Spears’ recent revelations about their former love affair: these songs generally lack “oumph”, that characteristic magic ingredient of the great productions of director Timbaland, who turns even an ordinary composition into a success. And with ordinary compositions, this album, too long for its own good, is stuffed with them, while Timberlake, still in good vocals, swings between disco-pop (Daft Punk’s final album serves as a reference on No Angels And Favorite Drug, a good one, that one) and sweet R&B – we are far from the grandiose soul-funk flights which made the success of his great albums, far also from the memorable tunes which he served us in the past. Timberlake returns to the stage on tiptoe, trying his luck with modern pop (quite successful on Liar), reconnecting with NSYNC (on the ballad Paradise) and plagiarizing Bowie in the process — we’ll let you figure out where. Pleasant, but bland.
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