Why I saved myself for Justin TImberlake

I have this theory that if you were to host a party that was exactly an hour and 10 minutes long, Justin Timberlake’s “The 20/20 Experience” could acutely, precisely and pristinely carry a crowd through every essential, phase of the dance floor.

The record achieves exactly what it needs to do, transitioning smoothly within its tracks, inching to the next addictive chorus just like “FutureSex/LoveSounds.”

“The 20/20 Experience” is thorough, no doubt, with lyrics keeping literal to its album title: a honed-in lens on the gentleman himself. Through the thick of it — the crunching, the beatboxing, the sexy sighs and then the lose-your-breath samba, the lusty ballads— ”20/20” does have “inconsequential beauty,” as The New York Times puts it, but that’s never been a bad thing.

The Times falsely made Timberlake out to be some lazy savant — an Amadeus of pop. But then again, the high-strung review also managed to reference America’s economic climate.

More haters to the left, Kanye dissed Timberlake’s single in one of his infamous onstage spoken word therapy sessions, saying “I got love for Hov, but I ain’t f–kin’ with that ‘Suit & Tie.’” I’m fairly certain, at this point, that Kanye did so because he, like an endangered, foamy-mouthed animal, felt threatened. And rightly so.

Despite what you might think, JT, unlike Kanye or Amadeus, isn’t presumptuous. The album comprises tracks averaging six to eight minutes long and expresses diversity within and outside of each song. I am weary of using the word “song” to describe what it is, exactly, Timberlake manufactures with producer Timbaland.

Tracks that last so long could be “self-important,” or “high artistry,” but it’s apparent that Timberlake made no such claim. Never overbearing, he always com back to where he is most comfortable and what he does best. This wasn’t some stab at subversion but the natural course of flow that the performer falls into. The art takes its own form as a slow-cooking, unassuming bedroom seduction.

As he says so in the steamy “Spaceship Coupe”: “Everyone’s looking for the flyest thing to say / but I just wanna fly (fly away with you).” Yes, me, yes, Justin, fly away with me, take me, please.

JT has ever and always been shameless, sensationalist funk. “FutureSex” was, without a doubt, ahead of its time. An album of the same nature nowadays has lost some of its wow-value, but his meticulousness providing the backbone to the “experience” is nothing short of genius in its own category.

In its construction, the opening track “Pusher Love Girl” is flawless. And I don’t use that word lightly. A combination of symphonic overture and slow gospel rouses a listener with seductive, spiritual sound. The outro, however, is possibly the best segment in the work with classic JT filler-groove and a muffled, growling synthesis of singing and rapping. He coos, “Uh, my nicotine, my blue dream, my hydroponic candy jelly bean.”

I am most assuredly “a, ju-ju-ju-ju-junkie” for whatever else he wants to tease us with.

The head single, “Suit & Tie,” was a glance into the classic meat and potatoes of “20/20” — modernity and synths mixed with orchestra. New additions, though, are the brassy renditions of ’70s-style soul brought to you by “JT and the Tennessee Kids.”  The vintage feel of “That Girl,” “Pusher Love Girl” and “Suit & Tie” are such sultry stuff that the clothes of every girl (and gay man) in the room are in danger of flying off. It makes complete sense, and somehow, this wholesome throwback seems like exactly what JT was born to do.

“20/20” is more raw is with its second single “Mirrors,” finding the emotional side of electronica. With similar tracks, like the memorable “Tunnel Vision” and the arousing “Spaceship Coupe,” the content of “20/20” takes a yearning turn. This side of the experience is heartful and real, not to mention the cold shower of a final track, “Blue Ocean Floor.”

And it takes cajones to make a record like this — one that is not radio-friendly — for the much-anticipated virility of Timberlake’s return from hiatus. It takes even more guts to announce the record’s second volume with musicologist ?uestlove dropping in November, for which I am peeing with excitement.

Haters can hate, but their chastising is fruitless, as JT is so likable, erotic and delicious that we’ll still sob for another record even if it takes him another seven years.

By Francisco Tirado