Justin Timberlake

There were girls getting loaded on Coke spiked with something outside of the TD Banknorth Garden last night. They peered over at the enormous Futuresex/LoveSounds tour bus parked behind some chain fences, parkas unzipped to reveal low-cut tanks in case anyone important walked by. Just inside the doors, girls ran toward the escalators in short dresses and high heels without stockings, goose bumps covering their bodies. At their respective seats and floor spots, girls tore off layers of clothing even though it wasn’t warm at all. They let loose guttural screams and lassoed their sweaters over their heads. Justin Timberlake has a way of making his audience want to strip. Dressed for business in a rat-pack suit and tie, each of Justin’s choreographed gyrations and improvised hip thrusts reeked of sex — all on display for a stadium venue saturated with estrogen. It was hard to tell who was more pleased with themselves.

Justin cruised from the north end of his rounded stage to the right corner, his white sneakers treading a path to one of his skinny blonde dancers, costumed to resemble a young hooker. He grabbed her waist, his easy falsetto chanting about rocking bodies and heartbroken ladies. Timbaland rose from the belly of a platform and Justin slunk up to his producer turned rapping side-show assistant, nodding and smiling as though Tim had just answered a very difficult question correctly. Actually, the only questions that remained were about J.T. Cameras projected and magnified his slender face onto gigantic cylindrical screens. Was it thanks to a good makeup artist that Justin seemed so well-rested and rosy? Could it have been a lasting afterglow from a satisfying roll in the hay with Scarlett Johansson during the Sundance film fest? Or from locking it up with Tufts alum and former 7th Heaven star Jessica Biel? He did, after all, dedicate a pre-planned champagne toast to “all the Tufts University girls — you know who you are.” No doubt a few Boston University co-eds cried about that later.

After the serenades and nimble dance routines, Justin seated himself in front of his upright piano, plunked on top of gigantic lazy susan that allowed him to spin slowly around, the frenetic waves and open-mouthed shrieks of adoration hitting him from all sides. “I want you guys to sit here in this moment with me and know that I love each and every one of you,” he declared, then asked us to sing along. It’s hard to imagine he saw much except a blur of sparkles and bare skin, though one can assume, based on the shuddering wall-of-sound shrieks that erupted, every girl present made the conscious decision to pretend he was talking to directly them. So we sang. Really, when Justin Timberlake says he’s in love with you, what is there to do but believe him?

SETLIST:
01 Futuresex/Lovesound
02 Like I Love You
03 My Love
04 Senorita
05 Sexy Ladies/Let Me Talk to You (Prelude)
06 Until the End of Time
07 …What Goes Around…Comes Around (Interlude)
08 Chop Me Up
09 Rock Your Body
10 Set the Mood (Prelude)
11 Gone
12 Take It From Here
13 Last Night
14 Damn Girl
15 Summer Love
16 Losing My Way
17 Cry Me A River
18 Lovestoned/I Think She Knows (Interlude)
19 SexyBack
20 (Another Song) All Over Again