Entertainment

Style, swagger, soul and the sex, Justin Timberlake brought all of those elements with him to American Airlines Center on Monday night, and more than 12,000 eager fans could barely wait for the comeback. The evening's press deadline prevented us from viewing his entire set, but, from note one, it was clear that the 26-year-old had studied his musical idols (mainly an '80s-era Prince and Michael Jackson) and incorporated elements of rock, funk, soul and hip-hop into his performance.

The arena buzzed with anticipation as gauzy screens hovered above the stage in the round, and when he rose from its center, clean-shaven and in a natty white suit with matching kicks, the screams were beyond deafening.

The first 20 minutes were a blur of glides, spins and struts as he pumped out big guns such as "My Love," "Future Sex Love Sounds" and "Like I Love You," running from end to end with his backup dancers and treating each section of the audience to fine-tuned, crisp choreography.

He was genuinely glad to be back in Dallas and pointed out that his cousins, aunts, uncles and even his grandfather had driven from Memphis to see him perform. "To the good ol' South," he exclaimed, before knocking back a shot glass and earning cheers for his cheeky version of the anthem "Deep In the Heart of Texas."

The handsome Mr. Timberlake was no slouch in the instruments department either. As if his velvety falsetto and pumping pelvis weren't enough, he melted the ladies with his angst-ridden, emo-ballad "What Goes Around" and performed it much as he did at the Grammys, pounding it out on a baby grand with a handheld camera capturing his every squint. And he tickled the keys as well during the saucy "Senorita."

Before a 20-minute intermission, his producing partner in crime, Timbaland, hyped the stage with Justin during "Chop me Up." He then created a montage of images and hits that included Nelly Furtado, Michael Jackson and even the late Aaliyah, keeping it more than crunk for Justin's dramatic return.

Opening act Pink was a brash and sassy treat. She had a blond crop of hair and wore a metallic silver slip dress and knee-high boots. Her feminist stance and fiery vocals were rewarded with raucous cheers when she sang the political hot button "Dear Mr. President." And "Stupid Girls" was re-enacted with painful accuracy, finding her dodging dizzy groupies wearing barely-there short-shorts and gigantic inflated bosoms.

What was typical of the star was her closing song, "Get This Party Started," in which she spun, swung about and laid atop another female dancer to the interwoven strains of the Eurythmic's "Sweet Dreams," which it surely must've been for the men in the house.

Lorrie Irby Jackson is a Dallas freelance writer.

lorrieirby@hotmail.com