Control is the ruling principle of Janet Jackson's career and, as far as the public knows, of her life.
Her 1986 breakthrough album bore the word as its title; 22 years later, her 10th studio release has the complementary name "Discipline." In concert, she's known less for powerful singing than for leading her dancers in sharp, demanding routines that leave little room for individual turns. And her hits often express contrasting forms of restraint: demure optimism in sunny songs such as "When I Think of You," and in more daring songs, the kind of role-playing sexuality linked to sadomasochism.
Sunniness and S and M both factor into the "Rock Witchu" tour, Jackson's first in seven years, which stopped by Staples Center on Wednesday. Still haunted by her single notorious out-of-control episode -- when her bra accidentally gave way to Justin Timberlake's tug at the 2004 Super Bowl halftime program -- Jackson has crafted a spectacle meant to help her finally recover from that incident and prove to those who say she's washed up that, at 42, she still deserves serious attention. Nine seamlessly executed costume changes are only the beginning. This show is all about dominance, and Jackson held the whip.
Given Jackson's fondness for lyrics invoking sex games, it was hardly shocking when she emerged in a black corset near evening's end, ready for a little bondage. She had her dancers pull up a male audience member and strap him into a harness; he was then suspended midair as Jackson teased him with a highly suggestive set of moves and the breathy soft-core porn of "Discipline's" title track.
The hapless guy seemed close to losing all composure, and his agonized ecstasy offered some frisson. Pleasure can be faked, however: A video taken on the tour's previous stop in Oakland documents another "victim" being pulled from the crowd and reacting almost identically. A plant perhaps?
Not that it matters. In Jackson's world, well-planned moves are just as valid as spontaneous outbursts. Surrounded by her "family" of nine dancers -- two redheaded white women who were this black diva's equivalent to Gwen Stefani's Asian Harajuku girls, one male acrobat who did stunts during costume changes and six more anonymous men -- Jackson often focused more on executing tough moves than on vocalizing. With only a drummer and two keyboardists acting as the band, Jackson often used a prerecorded soundtrack as support. All that canned music had a distancing effect.
