Instead of forcing a comeback—an effort that undeniably failed with their 2005 album Never Gone and even more so with their 2007 flop Unbreakable—the Backstreet Boys have finally found their niche, thriving off nostalgia-riddled fans (now grown women) who hope to relive their pre-teen and adolescent years. The group is admirably self-aware of this, as proven by their fuse with 80s pop sensation New Kids On The Block for their summer 2011 tour, NKOTBSB.
I went to the NKOTBSB concert last night. It was my fourth. In July of 1998, my mom (bless her heart) took me to what was then the Kiel Center for my first ever concert to see the Backstreet’s Back tour. We were in the nosebleeds, but I didn’t care. I was in the same building as the Backstreet Boys. We were breathing the same air. Nearly every available seat was filled with screaming girls in Backstreet Boys T-shirts.
Reflecting on that first performance, I realize the oddness of innocent, clean-cut young guys from Orlando crooning bubblegum songs with lyrics like “If you want it to be good girl, get yourself a bad boy,” and “All the girls get on your knees, tryin’ to scream or touch me please,” to an arena filled with little girls. Oh, and while also grabbing their crotches suggestively. Obviously, I was naïve and that sexual taboo was over my head. I just knew that I was officially in love for the first time.
Over the next several years, my puppy love grew to obsession. With the 1999 release of their massively popular second album Millennium, I set out to be the biggest fan. I owned every CD, even the ones imported from Europe. My room was wallpapered in BSB posters, and I frequently sported band T-shirts, jewelry, and accessories. I always kept a blank tape in the VCR, just in case the Backstreet Boys made a surprise television appearance. This resulted in hours and hours of concert footage, talk show performances, and interviews, as well as my parents hiding valuable VHS tapes, such as my sister’s first steps, and their wedding. (My father’s 40th surprise birthday party may or may not have been taped over. Sorry, mom and dad). It even became borderline unhealthy when I started celebrating the birthday of my favorite band member, Nick Carter, and had “BSB LUVR” screen printed on the back of my 7th grade soccer jersey. My dad staged a mini-intervention, lecturing that I should not identify myself with a pop group, but I didn’t really pay attention. I was all in.
Despite the hundreds and hundreds of dollars my parents spent on CDs, merchandise, and concert tickets—my mom made roaming cell phone calls from our summer vacation to score the overpriced Millenium seats—my obsession and useless knowledge sort of paid off in the summer of 2001 when I won concert tickets, via a Radio Disney trivia contest, at St. Clair Square. The concert was right before my 13th birthday. It was at what’s now the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, and it was a far cry from their completely packed arena days. I could sense the decline of their once chart-topping popularity, but I enjoyed the show and vowed to be a loyal fan forever.
Of course, as I entered my teen years and angst took over, I distanced myself from the Backstreet Boys, and allowed my musical tastes to shift. They left the mainstream scene shortly thereafter, but as I grew up, I knew I would never truly forget the five guys who used to consume my world.
Fast forward to me now, 22, attending the NKOTBSB concert almost exactly 10 years after the last time I saw them live. They have returned to touring arenas filled with screaming fans, but the demographic is much different. The little girls are all grown up and of legal drinking age, which made Scottrade Center and Anheiser Busch very happy. The palpable excitement was reminiscent of the ’90s, except this time these women, like me, were not necessarily listening to Backstreet Boys songs on repeat every day or spending hundreds of dollars on posters and biographies. We were simply leaving our current lives of jobs, bills, and responsibilities to travel back in time where our biggest concerns were trying to memorize all the songs—and the dance steps.
The band members themselves, now in their 30s and 40s, were aware of this, too. After an intense video buildup, all nine members (Kevin Richardson left the Backstreet Boys in 2006) came out on stage singing and dancing to a remix of Coldplay’s “Viva La Vida,” a perfect entrance for the supergroup who did in fact rule the world earlier in their careers. The performances maintained a high energy for nearly three hours, with the bands alternating stage time for some of their big hits and sharing it for others. Some of the choreography and their less-intricate costumes had been updated to reflect a more modern era, and the band-to-crowd relationship was noticeably more mature. Yes, there was still a decent amount of crotch grabbing, but the sexuality was less reminiscent of To Catch a Predator this time around. Almost all of the guys sported noticeable wedding bands and mentioned their families, to which many of the now-mothers in the crowd could relate.
At one point, Joey McIntyre from New Kids On The Block announced, “To some of you, this night feels like 1989 all over again. To others of you, it might feel like 1999 all over again,” and he was right. The band members clearly still had a passion for performing and a genuine appreciation for the fans, just as much as the crowd still loved and appreciated the pop icons. Pop music continues to shift faces and fifteen years from now, the men might even return for an NKOTBSBeiber tour. But in the meantime, I will always be grateful that I was able to return to my happy, innocent childhood days, if only for a night.
