On the Occasion of Baltimore, 8/9/03

__This Time Around live is astonishing.
What began as just another song has metamorphasized to an anthem when played live. I think that for everyone in the crowd singing along was seriously a semi-emotional affirmation of the fact that Hanson aren't going to be abandoned, that they and their music are something special that we're proud to be involved with, even if only from afar. As other people reported, Hanson made their standard "sing along with us!" request midway through the song, but they needn't have bothered: 700 blissfully happy people were already screaming every lyric. I couldn't hear Hanson through most of the song, but I bet people all the way to actual Baltimore heard the fans singing along. 

Also, I was happy to note that this song was greeted with more enthusiasm than even Mmmbop. Whenever I've seen serious one-hit-wonders live, their successful song was all that anyone cared about. The fact that fans have adopted a newer, less successful tune over an old-time nostalgia hit seems a sure sign that Hanson are still connecting with people through their music.

 __Crazy and Beautiful live is even more astonishing.
The demo version of the song is Hanson's patented breezy pop with a dark underbelly: all shot through with sunlight and harmony and shiny with supporting instrumentation, but only hinting at what the words really say. Crazy and Beautiful as performed live by Taylor Hanson with only a genuine piano for accompaniment is a different creature--a  visceral, bare-knuckle fighter of a song that is enraged and furiously betrayed. In contrast to the version of its lyrics that we've already heard--the ones that seem to be wowed by a beautiful girl just like any other love song--Taylor's original Crazy and Beautiful carries with it a palpably sour heart of double-edged betrayal: it finds its cause both in a lying love and a heart nonetheless defenseless against her "crazy” beauty.

Before performing the song, Taylor sat at his piano for a moment or two, leaning on an elbow that rested atop of it, his fingers laced through well-highlighted, gold-streaked hair. He introduced the real Crazy and Beautiful with: "I haven't practiced this, so bear with me. This song will be on the album, but you'll probably never hear it like this again. This is the original version that was written first," and then proceeded to blow the doors off every other Hanson song ever performed live. He howled and whined and emoted and poured three Vermont Yankees worth of passion into his delivery of "you're crazy, but you're crazy beautiful."

__Jessica Hanson is jaw-droppingly beautiful.
While she may not be a Vogue model, Jessica is further proof that the Hanson gene pool is deep beyond all belief. Her features are Taylor-style, big and strong but perfect for her face, and her hair is a cascade of smooth spun gold. She’s an Elizabeth Smart looking, corn-fed Midwestern angel who must have to beat boys off with a very large stick. Not that I’m jealous or anything.

__I may never eat french fries again.
McDonalds. Roy Rogers. Ruby Tuesday. Nathan's (with cheese). All within 48 hours, and making me want to vomit at their mere thought.

__Isaac Hanson needs to get himself some business cards. They should read: “Isaac Hanson, Rock Star.”
We all know what a standard Ike song is: it’s John Mayer, with a little less personality. It features nonsense syllables like “na na na”; It repeats over and over again things that weren’t all that interesting the first time around, like “say goodbye.” It uses clichés that should forever be stricken from the English language, or at least punishable by death, like “poetry in motion.” But beneath the sensitive, singer-songwriter exterior beats the heart of a stadium rock god. Even sweet old River felt the bite of a new Ike, finding itself suddenly home to anguished growls aplenty. His unsuspected true potential wasn’t unleashed, however, until midway through the show when a Little Richard cover, Rip It Up, introduced us to a new, some-monster-in-his-man Ike. Jerry Lee Lewis would have been proud how Hanson rocked the joint, turning the song into a dirty bar brawl set to music, all with Ike masterfully at the helm.

 __In spite of my best efforts, there will never be a day when I will not be stark raving teenie.
We didn’t go to the show early, instead turning up our noses at the block-long line and having a long dinner and meander through the magazine section of Barnes and Noble. When we did show up, though, Hanson were standing around outside their bus chatting up fans and signing autographs in a staggeringly casual way, considering that they were once a group that evoked hysteria in millions. They looked nice and were friendly and all, but hardly deserved my immediate, physical reaction to their presence: Let’s just say that while getting close and talking to them wasn’t really on the agenda, watching them from afar was a shockingly palpitating moment that left me with an idea how it would feel like to finish the Boston Marathon. I was like a cartoon, swept off my feet by the intensity of my heart frantically beating a foot above my chest. It was curious, really, this first response to a new sighting of Hanson, and it went away quickly. But while it lasted, it was miraculous and wonderful and everything a girl could ask out of an inappropriate and unreasonable obsession.

__Even if there had been no show, the ten hour ride would have been worth it just to come away with the new acoustic CD.
Secretly, I suspect this CD was messed up during its production: The last five songs should really have been the first. As it was burned, the early tracks are lovely with harmony and lyrics a thousand times more personal than what we’re used to getting from Hanson (and blasphemous, to boot!), but they’re obviously for us: strong and sweet and darling, but basic and light on the hooks and heavy on the guitar. It’s only with Underneath that the game is really kicked into gear: the songs suddenly become densely woven and immediately loveable, catchy and accessible at first listen even in the face of the ever-present Taylor mumble. They’re the kind of songs you listen to in the car, the windows rolled low and your vocal cords aching from singing along.

This is estimation is meant to be taken in the most impressed way possible, mind you—I’m not Thomas Conner from Tulsa World, he who is happy to dismiss this disc as “summery, carefree, easy” and containing little more than “seeds of substance.” It could be that the lack of lyrics on the liner notes are hurting Hanson in this regard, because I find it hard to interpret “the way that you keep screaming / I can hardly hear to think / And I feel the bridges burning underneath my feet” and “Don’t you care no more that you’re losing yourself / Don’t you want some truth? / ’Cause I gave you mine”* as light and casual in subject matter. (Lyrics translated by Meghan, the stellar copilot and all around fabulously fun girl.)

Back in the day, I responded to This Time Around with a confused “but wait…doesn’t this song have any lyrics?” As far as I was concerned, the CD sounded good but didn’t say much of anything that rang with truth. Yesterday, though, I spent seven unblinking hours trapped in a car on the Northeast’s never-ending I95 deciphering lyrics. They were meaty. They had meanings that weren’t immediately evident, and it pleased my inner English major immensely to ferret out just what those hidden themes might be. What Thomas Conner doesn’t appreciate is that even when the songs did happen to be “summery, carefree, [and] easy,” they created an exacting scene that felt like life, evoking the emotion of the moment that they conveyed just strongly as any book that I’ve ever read. They’re full of Francesca Lia Block-esque life and wit and vital weirdness, and if you can’t appreciate the specialness that, then too bad for you.

 __In Summation
Hanson are clever little boys and I love them. Still. Always.

Also: red pumps and Cadillac blues.

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