It’s tough to picture a happier scene than the one at Phoenix Park tonight, where 40,000 odd pop fans have rejected suit and ties in favour of shorts and tees, and are proudly debuting dance moves that I can only assume are usually reserved for the privacy of their own bedroom.
As a crowd, we’re nowhere near as light-footed as our affable host and we don’t sound quite as dreamy in falsetto, but shoot me if we don’t give the high notes a go, engage every bone in our bodies in a wobbly two-step, and try our very best to get the security guards to grind all up on us during ‘Sexy Back’.
An unexpected but very much appreciated heat wave can be held partially accountable for the exceptionally high spirits tonight and fully accountable for the park’s pristine facade, which is in sharp contrast to the mucky wreckage of 2012. After that, all the kudos must go to one Mr. Justin Randall Timberlake, an ingenious vocalist, accomplished musician and nifty little dancer, but more importantly, a total charmer.
A few seconds of that meltworthy, skyscraping croon of his in throwback opener ‘Like I Love You’ is enough to prompt thousands of tiny heart-shaped pupils out of their eye sockets, and a knowing JT doesn’t stop there. ‘Dublin, I need you, baby!’ he coos, during a particularly hypnotic rendition of new track ‘Pusher Love Girl’, coaxing giddy levels to frenzied heights. This is more than flirting; he’s demonstrably seducing an entire field of people.
A rump-shaking, arm-swaying, hit-packed set finds Justin meandering between slick early noughties favourites (N Sync-era Justin is sadly not revisited), mid-decade Timbaland smashes and material from the relatively experimental 20/20 Experience, which, for all its supersized track lengths and off-kilter beats, is still brimming with hooks. Supported by a jaw-droppingly proficient 15-piece band, lovingly dubbed the Tennessee Kids, he moonwalks a little further into our good books with every note, even taking to the piano and guitar for a few numbers.
Among many highlights is a stripped-back version of 2006 chart-topper ‘What Goes Around… Comes Around’, which has swoon-weary fans in the throws of delight, bellowing Justin’s name, somewhat inappropriately, at the most tender moments of the song – much more of this and Irish loins will be bursting into flames.
Heavy on funk and Latin grooves, with creative arrangements taking the place of any real pop theatrics, this is a very easy show to enjoy, but the thing that really keeps our shoulders bouncing is the man himself, a justified superstar and veritable beacon of charisma. Maybe it’s the heat, but he’s going home with every one of us...