The Uber-Celebrity Come Live

They forced me, kicking and screaming, whining and moaning, grabbing and jabbing... into the Staples Center to watch none other than the New King of Pop shake it like it hurt.

Yes. I saw Justin Timberlake last night at his opening Future/Sex/Lovesound show. My company insisted that we enjoy our lives and comped the whole endeavor. Can't complain about that.

I'll be honest. I like Justin Timberlake. Given I could probably kick his ass in a bar fight fairly easily, he could probably choreograph a whole kung-fu scene if he had the time.

It was an impressive show with tons of lasers, scantily clad women, and enough crotch gyrating to last me a lifetime. The best part, though, was the surprise performance by Kanye West. He must have heard that I didn't like his album and wanted to prove that he was a worthy artist. He did just that. He even pointed at me and said, "I love you, too."

Anyway, I think that musical artists all have levels. I always respected the ones who kept their concerts to smaller venues. Weezer at the Warfield. Green Day at Slim's. Common and Talib Kweli at the House of Blues. But some people aren't merely musical artists. They're celebrities and sometimes, uber-celebrities. Their shows are extravaganzas with lights, moving objects, and multiple giant screens. And honestly, it wouldn't be as great in any other way.

So fine. I admit it. Big arena concerts can be worth it, but not unless you can perform in that special way that keeps 20,000 people engaged like JT and Kanye did. I can't say the same for Good Charlotte, who opened for him. They should stick to impregnating anorexic heiresses.