They say a picture tells a thousand words. On the tube to tonight's gig a poster advertises 50 Cent's new G-Unit album 'Beg For Mercy'. 50 looks all thugged-up on the poster - presumably, still selling crack, while not flogging Reeboks. The album includes tracks like 'Gangsta Shit' and 'I Smell Pussy'.
This isn't a sequel to 'Fear Of A Black Hat', but it says more about the conservatism of US Hip Hop 2003 than any reviewer could. It also highlights just why we need N*E*R*D so much right now. For, along with Missy and Outkast, Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo are in that minority still transcending expectations in what should be the most innovative of musical art forms.
As N*E*R*D, The Neptunes have taken us back to the conundrum posed by George Clinton back in 1978 : 'Who says a funk band can't play rock?'. Like Sly & The Family Stone before that, they have formed an inclusive outfit who make genres irrelevant. Always into building bridges as opposed to barriers (why else work with Britney and Justin?) N*E*R*D is their vehicle for the masses.
Yet, if they're aiming for a quick knockout tonight it's clearly not happening. Opening number 'Brain' sluggishly punches air. This is mainly attributable to the studied and session-like backing band Spymob. They'll never lift the roof off any sucka but Williams is virtually inaudible and the mix is atrocious. It sounds like the Academy's neighbours are spinning tunes and even 'Rock Star' and 'Provider', incredible on record, travel little beyond the opening rows.
It's not looking (or sounding) good, but three songs in something strange happens when that guy from the McDonalds advert - no, not the creepy clown, the guy who's lovin' it - walks sheepishly onstage. The Academy erupts. Fashionistas take off their cool and begin screaming like little girls as a thousand mobile phones take pictures. It's truly extraordinary. Ladies and gentlemen: Justin Timberlake is in the house.
It's undeniably odd watching the world's biggest pop star play out a side role but JT acclimatises pretty seamlessly. His voice and presence immediately lift 'Run To The Sun' from the fog and mark the first great moment of the night. After an impromptu version of 'Senorita', with Pharrell on drums, the accelerator pedal is at last pressed down. New track 'Fly Or Die' is a great swirl of heavy rock and fairground organ while during 'Frontin'' Williams surfs the crowd. Killa Kella is at hand to muscle up the beats and finally we've got a show on our hands.
For the encore Pharrell plays a solo jazz rendition of 'Hot In Herre' before Timberlake returns for a glorious 'Rock Your Body'. 'Bobby James' continues the party before an incendiary 'Lapdance' pulls the curtain. N*E*R*D by now are hitting home runs at will. Justin has metamorphosised into a human beatbox when he's not jumping like a crazed frog on acid.
In this one wonderful freakish moment N*E*R*D are up there at the mountaintop, yet tonight was as frustrating as it was mindblowing. Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo are clearly great producers, but greater musical firepower will be required if they want to truly kiss the sky. Justin or no Justin it was only coming into the home straight that we were ready to blast tonight. An hour is a long wait to fly or die.
