Justin Timberlake Falls Back To Earth!

"Volaré!"

One of the things for which I am most proud of my heritage as an '80s kid is that we tolerated our teenyboppers for three albums at most and then we kicked them to the curb, no exceptions. After that, nothing they did would get anywhere near the Top 40.

Of course, that was back when the industry was moving millions and millions of units.

Debbie Gibson, Tiffany, Samantha Fox, M.C. Hammer, New Kids On The Block, and their ilk each had roughly three albums in the spotlight before their respective audiences moved on and they transitioned into the "washed up" phase of their career and, depending on how much money they saved, into a moment of quiet self reflection before biting the bullet and taking the first regional theatre gig that comes along.

It may not be fair or right, but it's how things were done. Once a teen idol's audience has moved on, a teen idol is expected to ride off into the sunset in order to make room for new teenyboppers.

For whatever reason, though, Justin Timberlake didn't get that memo and has been permitted to have the sort of solo career that people who can actually sing and write songs dream about. Why, he even has a section of his Wikipedia page devoted to his, and I quote, "Artistry".

An oldie but a goodie from 2003: If JT
can name three MC5 songs, we'll eat our typewriter.

That's right, Mr. "Man of The Woods" considers himself an Artist.

It probably started around the time Duran Duran inexplicably enlisted the pop star (along with Timbaland) to produce Red Carpet Massacre in 2007. The gigantic '80s pop group had seen their first reunion album Astronaut sell respectably, but that just wasn't enough for Simon Le Bon, whose Jagger-esque desire to fuck with his band's chemistry in order to chase trends, succeeded only in driving Andy Taylor out of the band and stopping the band's forward momentum in its tracks.

To those able to accurately gauge the extent of Timberlake's musical talents, the idea of him producing anyone, much less Duran Duran, remains a comical delusion. Thing is, I don't know who was crazier for thinking it would work, Justin or Simon Le Bon.

What if Timbaland hadn't been there?

While those photos of Justin pretending to play a guitar in-concert are hilarious enough, can you imagine the bearded boy-bander trying to work the knobs and faders of a mixing console or mic a set of drums?

Yeah, me neither.

But, wait, he's an Artist.

When one thinks of an Artist, we think of Leonard Cohen, Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart, Tom Waits, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan and, yes, even Radiohead.

Have any of those artists played a Super Bowl halftime show?

When we think of an Artist, we think of a musical innovator who, if left alone in a recording studio for a few hours, could actually come up with something not just perfunctory, but breathtakingly crafted and yet even the albums Timberlake makes with the best producers, songwriters, and Autotune engineers money can buy rarely, if ever, achieve such results.

Most importantly, an Artist doesn't need backing dancers, much less twelve of them.

Last but not least, while Artists draw inspiration from unusual sources, borrowing inspiration from a Jack Link's beef jerky commercial might be good for a song or two, but not an entire album unless "The 'Squatch" also makes an appearance.

Word has it the often-blurry bigfoot picks a mean guitar.

As for Justin's Super Bowl halftime show, sadly Sasquatch was a no-show, leaving Justin to dangle in the breeze in his "designer dad robs a bank" get-up with only his painstakingly pre-recorded backing tracks, backing dancers, and an entire football field of faux-fans engaged in odd form of choreographed disinterest.

The whole exercise, even for those of us watching at home, felt like exercise as Justin sat at a grand piano hoping, in lieu of actual music or showmanship, that a ten-story projection of Prince might create the heart-stopping moment that would leave us all speechless when the memory of watching Prince cast a spell over the entire planet while PERFORMING LIVE in a freakin' downpour remains fresh in most of our memories.

Perhaps a moment of silence would have been more fitting.