Justin Timberlake - Everything I Thought It Was

In an era where nostalgia sells, and self-awareness is supposed to be pop's new currency, Justin Timberlake's latest offering, 'Everything I Thought It Was', lands with a thud. Timberlake, once the prince of pop's sexy back and forth, attempts a grand return but ends up serving a platter of lyrical cheese so rich, it could single-handedly sustain a fondue restaurant for months.

The truth is, there's nothing less sexy than a man in his forties talking about "ass" and "titties". Like having Dad recite the dirty talk he used to bag Mum, it provokes revulsion. Even Justin - a man who has managed to make some proper clunkers sound like the height of seduction previously - eventually succumbs to the cringe.

From the get-go, 'Memphis' promises an introspective journey, hinting at Timberlake's wrestling with the shadows of fame. Yet, any hopes of a deep dive into his psyche are quickly dashed as we're whisked away on a tour of Timberlake's well-established territories: the dance floors and bedrooms, but with lyrics that feel more like they belong in a parody than on the playlist of a former pop titan.

The album swings wildly between attempts at sensuality and the lines that make you reflexively wince. On tracks like 'Infinity Sex' and 'Technicolor', Timberlake seems to aim for the sultry heights of his past but ends up delivering lines that sound less like the whispers of a seasoned lover and more like the clumsy flirtations of someone who's just discovered the word "sexy" in a thesaurus. Quite why we should "pray this hotel room is insured" when "all your clothes hit the floor" remains unclear, but it sounds more like the basis of a police investigation than an effective come-on.