Backstreet Boys deliver what the young girls who admire them expect -- high-flying theatrics and popular songs -- with a competence even the non-fan can appreciate
BY CANDACE MURPHY
I DREW the short straw. I had to review the Backstreet Boys' Into the Millennium concert.
You see, writing about a mega-glitzy show like this, with mega-glitzy stars, is a lose-lose situation.
If you pan the Boys, you risk hundreds of thousands of prepubescent girls creating voodoo dolls in your image and driving pushpins into your eye sockets. And if you don't, your snooty music critic brethren usher you quietly away to the sanitarium, outfit you in a straitjacket, put you in a padded room, pipe in a loop tape of Richard Thompson and take away anything that can be used as a writing implement.
I'm telling you, it's a no-win.
But in the end, you have to be true to yourself. And after Thursday's theater-in-the-round show at San Jose Arena, the first of the Backstreet Boys' two sold-out concerts here, I came to this conclusion: I can see the appeal. It just doesn't really appeal to me.
But if I were a rabid Backstreet Boys fan, if I'd come to the arena in my van soaped up to read, ``HONK IF YOU REALLY LUV BSB!!,'' with my ``I (hrt) KEVIN!'' sign and my washable BSB tattoos on my triceps, I would have been in absolute heaven Thursday evening.
After opening acts Mandy Moore (the latest Britney Spears knockoff, who actually introduced herself by saying ``Hi! I'm Mandy Moore, and I'm 15!'') and the incredibly athletic but average-voiced trio named E.Y.C. finished warming up the crowd, the lights dimmed and the screeching and screaming reached unfathomable decibels.
Above the cacophony rose the unmistakable notes of Darth Vader's theme music -- dum dum dum, dum dee-dum, dum dee-dum -- as five men and five women carrying pseudo-torches stalked through the crowd and onto the stage. The 10 formed a circle and swiveled their heads toward the back of the arena.
And there they were.
Howie, A.J., Kevin, Brian and Nick.
Suspended from wires like five studly Peter Pans, the five rose high above the crowd as the music changed to the theme from ``Star Wars.'' Their feet planted on snow boards, the boys drifted slowly and majestically toward the stage.
When they landed, the five, dressed in what looked like blue bullet-proof vests and, naturally, cargo pants, spread out in a line and looked sternly out at the crowd.
Kevin raised his right eyebrow.
Bedlam.
Fittingly, the Boys immediately went into the foot-stomping ``Larger Than Life,'' the first track from ``Millennium,'' an album that has sold more than 29 million copies. Six backing musicians and the 10 torch-bearers -- the Boys' dancers -- went to work.
It was theater of the highest order, as the Boys ran tightly choreographed laps around the pentagon-shaped stage and their 10 dancers struggled to keep up. Without a pause, the Boys went straight into ``Get Down'' during which crowd favorite A.J., the baddest Backstreeter, spat out a respectable rap.
Lest the crowd wasn't yet impressed, blinding orange flames lept toward the rafters and gray smoke hissed out of the rockets hovering above the stage at the song's end. Like a trip down Highway 101 during rush hour, the whole mess attacked the senses mercilessly. It was impossible to look away.
But the theatrics weren't limited to the stage. The audience was a treat to ogle as well. Before the show, gaggles of girls no more than 10 years old would start screaming the moment a stage-hand poked his head out from behind a curtain. In the bathrooms, teenagers got their friends to scrawl ``BRIAN'' on their cheeks and forehead in splotchy black marker, as if Brian might actually look down from the stage in the middle of singing ``The One,'' and think, ``Hey, that girl's got it going on! I gotta get me some of that!''
Still, the stars of the show were the Backstreet Boys. After what would turn out to be the first of several costume changes, the five came out in long, black trench coats to sing ``As Long As You Love Me.'' And for those waiting for the ubiquitous folding chair routine so perplexingly common in boy groups' acts today, they weren't disappointed. Out came the chairs -- 15 of them actually, one for each Backstreeter and one for each dancer -- and the night felt complete.
Of course, it wasn't. The five slowed things down a lot to sing their popular ballads, such as ``Spanish Eyes,'' ``I'll Never Break Your Heart,'' and the quite beautiful ``Show Me the Feeling of Being Lonely.''
At another point, Kevin, the oldest Backstreet Boy, who is 27 but looks like he's about 35, announced that the group would dedicate the next song, ``The Perfect Fan,'' to all the mothers in the crowd. Cynics might say that was so Kevin could eyeball a few ladies closer to his own age, but it actually ended up being a sweet moment, as five mother-daughter pairs were invited on stage for the song.
By the end of the glossy two-hour affair, there was no denying that the Backstreet Boys gave their fans their money's worth. More, even. They sang well, they danced with marvelous energy. They dazzled wide-eyed young fans and sent hearts into palpitations.
You could see the appeal. You'd be blind not to.
source: www.mercurycenter.com Have a concert review from your BSB concert? Send it in for other fans to read!
Mercury News Pop Music Writer
