JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE

Man of the Woods

R&B with some folk-rock, a bit of country, some Vegas synths and a bored-out-ofhis-brain pop singer … you could never convince me this was a wrap-up of the new JT album, and yet here we are. When Man of the Woods opened with the squeakily annoying Filthy, I was worried. But one song later Midnight Summer Jam had me begging for the “glory” days of

Filthy. JT has been a corny dork before — claiming to “bring sexy back” — but that was fun and silly, whereas this song is just lame. It’s the worst song he’s ever put his name to. Amazingly, the terrible one-two punch that opens this album was followed by progressively dull and duller songs. Musically, he’s got old mates Timbaland and the Neptunes in the studio, so you’d think all would be fine. No. No, not fine. Perhaps it is Timberlake’s phoned-in, dead-eyed performance that was the problem. Perhaps it was a lack of authenticity (a strange thing to be pondering about a popstar, for sure). Hear me out. Why is he singing lines like “I’m a man of the woods, it’s my pride”? Or “… the backed-up bills on the credit card”? You have a net worth of $230 million, Justin! Stop it! And collaborating with a country artist, Chris Stapleton, does not make you “rural”, my guy!

Supplies is the only song remotely related to modern pop music on this album, and JT sounds like a follower not a leader when working with this Migos-ish beat. The back half of this dull album is an insomnia cure. Bottle it and get its essence into pharmacies, quick smart.

NO STARS