Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Unlock the Editor’s Digest for freeRoula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.A high, breathy voice filled the O2 Arena like an elite brand of air freshener. It was a pre-recorded piece of rigmarole from Janet Jackson, murmuring loudly about being 51 years in showbiz. “I’ve been so fortunate and so blessed to have a career that I continue to enjoy every day,” her voiceover continued. But not much of that enjoyment came across in her show, the second of two nights at the London venue.Jackson is on her Together Again tour, her first since 2019. The European leg comes amid a kerfuffle caused when she went off piste in a recent interview, casting doubts on Kamala Harris’s ethnicity (“Well, you know what they supposedly said? She’s not Black”). Fingers have been pointed at the alleged influence of her Trump-supporting brother and business partner Randy Jackson. (As karma would have it, the singer’s half-centenary in showbiz began when she was seven, singing kiddie duets with Randy during variety shows by the Jacksons in Las Vegas. Among their songs was Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You Babe”.)As a girl, Janet wanted to be a jockey until the family patriarch, Joe Jackson, propelled her on stage. Amid teenage hesitancy about a music career (she was a successful child actor), her first two albums flopped. But she broke from paternal oversight in 1986 to release the multi-platinum Control, which began a run of success that almost rivalled that of superstar brother Michael. It ended with the notorious “wardrobe malfunction” of her 2004 Super Bowl appearance with Justin Timberlake, when a flash of breast brought her public humiliation and broadcast blacklisting.Twenty years later, Jackson commands sympathy for the prudish maltreatment that she suffered, with its racist and sexist undertones. But the singer is an elusive figure at the centre of the unbowed-queen narrative that has grown up around her. Her O2 Arena staging lacked storytelling or personality. The banal voiceover about being 51 years in the business came during an interlude between songs. It was unaccompanied by archive images or any real sense of retrospection. Jackson wore a variety of throwback outfits, neatly tailored affairs involving trouser suits, ties, stompy boots and sparkly dark shadings, like a 1990s boardroom executive fantasy. There were similarly neat moments of hip-hop choreography with a troupe of five male backing dancers, a 58-year-old’s compact recreation of the synchronised moves from back in the day. But other aspects of the staging were less assured. Almost 40 tracks were crammed into a setlist lasting about an hour and three-quarters. Jackson’s vocals contained a mix of plosives and artificial sweetening. Essentially a studio singer, she sounded less at home on stage. Her band played forcefully and busily, a somewhat suffocating forward press. The singer fiddled with her earpiece and head microphone, and spent a lot of time exiting and re-entering the stage. Her between-song comments were stick-to-the-script bromides about how much she loved us. A brief pause in tribute to her deceased brothers, most recently Tito this month, was quickly dispatched. A back catalogue liberally stocked with hits delivered occasional highlights. “That’s the Way Love Goes” brought breathing space to the overdriven passage of songs with its classic hip-hop soul groove. The Public Enemy-meets-New Jack Swing energy of “Rhythm Nation”, a signature sound, packed a wallop. The singer looked happiest marshalling a singalong for the ballad “Again”. Mostly, however, her performance was an exercise in get-it-done diligence. Ahead lies a return to Las Vegas for a residency, scene of her reluctant stage debut all those years ago.★★☆☆☆janetjackson.com
