Reviews

The intimate confines of a rock club are wholly unnatural for a performer like Justin Timberlake. The former Mouseketeer became a superstar through his membership in the boy band N'Sync, formed in sunny Orlando. Not the kind of guy you expect to show up the stark, humble Gypsy Tea Room on a Thursday night.

But Mr. Timberlake was there for a stop on a club tour. He's debuting material from his second album, which hits stores next month.

So how did a big-time star successfully squeeze his act into a tiny space? Simple. He crammed as many zealous fans into the venue as possible. The women (and some men) in the sold-out ballroom screamed like teakettles with every gasp of Mr. Timberlake's falsetto. It didn't take much to set this crowd off.

Happily, Mr. Timberlake supplied many moments worth screaming for. Not every new song was a surefire winner, but quite a few held promise. And the evening hit a peak when Mr. Timberlake's collaborator, evil genius producer Timbaland, joined him for the new hit "SexyBack."

The busy, bouncy dance song, in which Timbaland is the encouraging wingman to Mr. Timberlake's kinky ladies' man, sounded spontaneous and sexy in concert, without some of the vocal filters and effects of the record.

It was nice to see Timbaland – real name Tim Mosley – get some time on stage after crafting hits in the studio for so many stars, from Aaliyah to Jay-Z. The producer even sang his part of the Nelly Furtado jam "Promiscuous," letting women in the audience take the female vocal part while Mr. Timberlake beatboxed.

The producer's appearance seemed to energize Mr. Timberlake after a long night of testing new material. Mid-tempo numbers with heavy beats sounded best, carved out of the same marble as the old masterpiece "Cry Me A River," which opened the show.

"My Love" had the pleading, sad vocals that made "River" so satisfying, while "What Goes Around ... / ... Comes Around" relied on a similarly top-heavy beat, with deep thuds, then a sharp crack, like an exclamation point.

A couple of new slow jams were more traditional and unremarkable, but Mr. Timberlake's nasal tenor was consistently engaging, youthful and sincere. His falsetto could lullaby or it could stab sharply, depending on the mood.

He seemed comfortable with a microphone in his hand, standing still and closing his eyes as he sang. When the band, a large ensemble with four backup singers, took over for a bridge or interlude, it was less apparent what Mr. Timberlake should do. He tried a few goofy dance steps or tapped on the keyboard.

Perhaps a costume change would have filled the time better. By the end of the night, Mr. Timberlake's blue, button-down shirt was soaked through with sweat and open in front, much to the delight of the throng screaming his name.

E-mail charrison@dallasnews.com