What's a boy to do? As a member of one of the most popular yet simultaneously most reviled bands ever to have strode the surface of Planet Pop, Justin Timberlake feels like he deserves your respect. And, if his multi-platinum sales figures, stacks of wad and sickeningly good looks - all under the belt at the ripe old age of 21 - aren't going to impress you, then here he is with his achingly hip mates and an album of serious, heart-on-sleeve soul music to prove that he's 4 Real.
All of which would be fine, were it not for the fairly significant fact that Timberlake and his compadres - who include the ubiquitous but still cannily inventive Neptunes and near-namesake Timbaland - seem to have forgotten to write any songs. 'Justified' is a collection of sounds, textures and atmospheres desperately seeking a tune.
There is plenty here that works, but only to a certain extent. '(And She Said) Take Me Now' is taut and minimal, but doesn't go anywhere. 'Right For Me' is a brilliant Timbaland track made from a ridiculous sample of someone humming and clicking their fingers, but Timberlake's vocal, while far from bad, just makes you yearn to hear Missy riding this delicious beat. 'Rock Your Body' starts off like it's going to be Madonna's 'Holiday' (yup, 'that' dated) before rediscovering some sort of latent inner funk. 'Nothin' Else' wants to be 'All In Love Is Fair', right down to the Stevie Wonder impersonation, but Timberlake won't trust his inner vision, never mind make his own 'Innervisions'.
At least Timberlake has made an interesting record, with collaborators who have made some attempt to rise to the challenge he poses for credible and progressive producers. But there's so little substance here, it's difficult to engage with the record or its creator, and there is nothing - bar the vague feeling that you know what he's aiming for - that you will be able to remember by the time the CD is over.
