Apples and Oranges

 
Nsync, Hanson, and the art of performing

"I love you, Joey!" The scream, shrill and desperate, echoes through the rapidly darkening night air. It could be the Magic Summer tour, 1992. On stage, five boys who might have been culled from Boston's finest dance and sing, relishing the wall of noise that floats to them from the amassed audience composed largely of helplessly wailing girls. The screamer could have been me, a shy fourteen year old sprung from summer camp by her parents to see her favorite band ever, New Kids on the Block, all palpitations and nerves. It might even have been me exclaiming, "I don't care how far we are away… at least I'm breathing the same air that they are!"

It could, however, just as easily have been 1999; the five boys dancing and singing on stage could have most recently hailed from Orlando, Florida. The bellow of adoration might have been directed at Joey Fatone instead of Joey McIntyre, but the meaning behind it could be no different. See me, the girl was begging, understand that I am as special as I think you are, even though the world doesn't seem to understand me. She doesn't say it, but she knows that the grease paint on her arms proclaiming "N'Sync rocks" and the extreme close up of Justin on her T-shirt make her look just like any of a thousand others around her. These things proclaim her allegiance, her belief that here she is at home, with these people and in this music.

I have seen the same gleam, the same dreamy worship, come to reside behind the eyes of thousands and thousands of girls in my life. I have stood outside of the Old Orchard Beach baseball field admiring the New Kids on the Block merchandise; I have wandered through cavernous passageways at the Molson Centre, searching with MOE members for any precious glimpse of Hanson, the sole bastion of talent in a sea of faceless boybands. The only time that I have had the luxury of emotional distance from the fray, though, saw me standing in line for seven hours at Great Woods, hoping for decent tickets to each of *Nsync's sold-out appearances at the venue.  Watching it from the outside provided an interesting opportunity: to have the ability to step back and realize the commonalties embraced by people answering to the epitaph 'fan'.

The crowd drawn by N’Sync was cut from a different cloth than that seen at the NKOTB or Hanson shows; they were older, for one thing, and, as if age and B cups brought with them some sort of privilege, they were wearing considerably fewer clothes. Hootchies abounded, in too-tight-to-draw breath tube tops, tiny skirts and huge platforms, very nearly outnumbering the classic jean shorts/Gap shirt/ payless sandals concert-going uniform. Most were friendly, though, indulging in the spirit of community founded on shared obsession. Girls chatted about past N’Sync shows, favorite import singles, the hottest picture of [insert-boy-boy band member here], and, if they happened to be around the two Amandas, their take on Hanson and the New Kids.

Great Woods, infamous for its rapid sell-outs and insanely hard to get pavilion seats, had once again given us the blow off, providing only lawn even though we called at approximately 4 minutes before the tickets for these two shows had gone on sale in February. This was seen as a mere road block by the second coming of Charlie's Angels (composed this summer of the repeat performance Amandas and new-comer Theresa), all of whom have issues about lawn. We've consistently had amazing luck at shows, typically arriving with tickets located several states away the day of, only to end up watching the performance from the first ten rows. We assumed that our road to improved seats was the on-site box office, a theory that has worked quite well in the past. The three of us spent roughly five hours of both show days in line for whatever seats may have appeared at the last minute, absorbing the environment and futilely trying to fake the people ahead of us in the queue ("oh my god! I just saw Lance through the fence over there! You should really go check it out! I think he was naked! Um…and he asked for you by name!").

The atmosphere was very similar to that of last summer's Hanson show, involving thousands of frantic young girls, frequently accompanied by parents, sitting in line to assure a decent spot on the lawn, wildly hoping to see their objects of adoration up close at some point during the day. Last year, however, more people gathered much earlier; by nine o’clock in the morning of Hanson's only Great Woods date there had been at least three hundred souls on blankets in front of the general admission gates. N’Sync fans, apparently a calmer lot, had generally not shown up until one or two in the afternoon. The impassioned screaming at the sight of any vehicle even approaching the backstage access entrance was constant between appearances of both bands, however. Another of the similarities between the Hanson and N’Sync shows was the possibility of getting backstage as a fanclub member. When I first heard of the MOE backstage pass component last year, I had thought it was stunningly innovative. Apparently, though, it isn't now, if it ever really was. A large group of fan club members, who according to the buzz had to do nothing more than send in an application for the honor, got to attend a special backstage meet-and-greet, get special tickets for the show, and receive a nifty N’Sync backpack type thing full of goodies like a concert program, and CDs.

On the first date, we missed the two of the three opening acts, still holding onto some optimism that tickets decent tickets would go on sale before the people we really wanted to see took the stage. This attitude ended with us in the absolute back row of the lawn, having waited to long to get a good spot in the first come/first serve pit of misery that passes off as the Tweeter Center's worst seats. The second night our luck took a turn for the better, no thanks to me. As a general rule I'm the woman to be around at a concert; I regularly have extraordinary experiences like getting hit on by members of 3rd Eye Blind, magically acquiring 7th row Hanson tickets or a seat on their plane, or being good-naturedly gifted with one of John Popper's harmonicas. Those of you who have met me know that I half-seriously attribute this to my lucky shoes, a pair of thick heeled sandals I have happened to have worn at all of these occasions. Vengeance was had, though, as the shoes finally disintegrated sometime early last week, apparently at the hands of some god who was less than impressed with my secret desire to see N’Sync play… erm… sing… erm… dance.

So of course, when I finally couldn't take standing in the box office line for one more instant on the day of the second show, I wandered off to my car to find a brush and some gum. Big mistake. I come back to an exuberant Amanda out of line, a huge smile on her face. Turns out Theresa had noticed Johnny Wright wandering around with a stack of tickets, and accosted him with my favorite ploy -- pity. Even without witnessing the exchange, I can just hear Theresa pleading "but I flew all the way from Arizona and I only have lawn seats!" Mr. Wright, apparently being a cool guy, asked to see Theresa's license, which through some miracle she actually had on her. After verifying her residence, he forked over three complimentary tickets: section 2, row Q. The sheer excellence of this situation probably isn't obvious to those un-initiated into boy band culture. Johnny Wright is, well, Johnny Wright. Former New Kids on the Block tour manager, creator of both the Backstreet Boys and N’Sync, Wright has had more of an impact on pop culture at the turn of the millennium than any other single human being… and he gave us tickets! This random act of kindness on his part gave us a chance to see the show from both sides. The first night we witnessed it from the worst spot imaginable, while during the second we got to see it surrounded by the N’Sync fanclub members who had made it backstage, in pretty much the best seats in the venue.

The opening acts were a very mixed bag, consisting of yet another sad ploy for power created by Maurice Starr (New Edition, New Kids on the Block, Perfect Gentlemen, Homework… what, you've never heard of the last two? Exhibit A.) known as 3rd Storee. It's totally beyond the realm of imagination to say that the four members of this band maintained any shred of dignity throughout their dismal three song set. From their entrance dressed in what appeared to have been Inspector Gadget costumes to their shirt-ripping finale, they pandered themselves to the lowest common denominator. Personally the favorite part for us though was when one of the members took a 3rd Storee T-shirt, wiped his sweat all over it and then threw it into the masses of screaming teenies. We simply can't tell you how it brightened our day to see the audience nearly kill in each in attempts to snag the shirt, seriously. It was all the more bang for our buck... like WWF right there in the pavilion.

The Sugarhill Gang, however, was a totally different story. The four acts showcased at the Boys of Summer Tour seem to be one cosmic punch line in which must have revolved around the question, "which one of these things don't belong?" This
band was the answer, being made up of what at best could be called the creators of the musical genre known as rap, and at worst as a bunch of beer-bellied middle-aged men. They seemed in awe of the screaming girl crowd, and played them for all they were worth. Having entered the venue trying to figure out why I knew the name Sugarhill Gang, I have to admit that I'm surprised at how well I know them. Being the innovators that they are, they've been sampled throughout today's most popular music, including appearing under the names Puff Daddy, Eminem, and the Beastie Boys. The hit that probably got them their spot on the tour (in addition to some well connected friends, I suspect) was Rapper's Delight, the song belted out by a Grandmother in one of 1998's most memorable moments in film.

I'm not ashamed to admit that the biggest reason why I wanted to see this show was for the act which appeared just before N’Sync… Jordan Knight. What sums him up for me? Embodiment of a childhood dream? Member of my first favorite band? One of the first people who opened my eyes to oldies music (most especially the Stylistics Motown grooves)? He was all those things and a lot more and seeing him again on stage was an amazing moment. Despite desperately teenie urges, we didn't
even make a sign that I had been envisioning: "We'll be loving you forever, Jordan!" I'll just stop here before whatever respect you have for me is totally shattered. ::cough:: He performed well, though from the lawn he was almost impossible to identify in his "I'm too cool for this crowd" black duds. I should also mention the fact that one of the perks of being stuck in line at the box-office was getting to see the band VIPs pick up their tickets. We got an eyeful of several Wahlbergs and quite a few Knights, including Jordan's Mom, sister, and one of his brothers. It was truly bizarre to see them, because standing in a clump of older, former NKOTB fans, at least two of us were able to pick them out of the crowd before we even heard their names. Yes, five years after the group disbanded and seven years after the death of my New Kids obsession, I still quite vividly remember what their families look like. For those of you who are Hanson fans, imagine yourself running into Mrs. Hanson in ten years. Very trippy, indeed!

Not surprisingly, the first N’Sync performance we saw seemed to be lacking a bit, by way of sucking, most likely because we were so far away. Even with the help of a super large screen focused on the action at center stage, Great Woods' small video coverage wasn't enough for the fans in the back. A band which relies so strongly on its appearance isn't one that can afford to play large venues without a lot of forethought, and it's obvious that this was exactly what Wright and the boys management have put into their show. Each motion the group went through in the course of their performance was precisely crafted for maximum effect, keeping at least one boy in clear view of each section of the audience at any given moment. They related with the audience with professionalism, looking at obviously foreordained spots in the masses of teenaged girls at each break in the songs.

After seeing N’Sync perform live twice, I feel that it's safe to say that the shows had pretty much nothing to do with the music. Concerts for actual bands, otherwise known as musicians and composers, revolve around the sound. The audience gives feedback in the form of screams at particular musical feats: Tim Reynolds running through a blazing guitar solo, John Popper and his harmonica positively tearing the air into shreds, Jonny Lang growling a bone shiveringly low note. In contrast to this, the moments of most intense enjoyment for the N’Sync fans seem to have involved close ups of Justin raising his eyebrows and giving a sly grin on the video monitors. This kind of fan reaction is not necessarily the fault of the group involved, for example much the same thing happened last year when the Taylor Mafia took Great Woods. Hanson, however, have never pandered to this phenomenon; they focus on their music, not acrobatic dance moves or close ups of claymation-cute band members.

If Walt Disney lived today, I suspect he would have been a boy-band manufacturer as opposed to an animation and amusement mogul The concept is the same, after all, being closely related to the Roman theory revolving around bread and circuses. The performance was exactly that -- a circus.  It was a completely pre-scripted, pre-calculated, pre-planned bit of highly orchestrated showmanship. If N’Sync have anything going for them, it is exactly this: they appear to have been born to do what they are doing, and they complete professionals. When a member of the group is on stage he owns his space, fearing nothing and putting forth a completely comfortable aura of power and control. The insanely energetic dances barely phase them; the wailing fans don't even register on their faces; the support crew continually following them around with video cameras doesn’t so much as make them blink. What it all boils down to, though, is that what N’Sync does on stage are their jobs, and no matter what you might think of the music they make, they're damn good at it.

The strategy employed by N'sync's handlers was obvious: infiltrate and conquer. Their set lasted for about an hour and a half, including many songs from their self titled first CD, though interestingly enough, not the one track which they helped to write. While it would have upped them in the respect arena to have done so, I'm just psyched not to have had to listen the four minutes of the horror that is "Giddy Up." Being something of a classicist, I have to say that if a song is not performed by the Beach Boys, it shouldn't include that word in any way, shape, or form.

The incredibly active dances necessitated long breaks throughout the performance in order for the group members to catch their breath. In order to fill these times the crowd was treated with various videos, including footage of one European-only released song and film retrospectives of each decade in the second half of the twentieth century. While the shots shown were occasionally deeply random (including the profound mutt shot with the voice over “in the 70s, dogs caught Frisbees”), provided quite the little history show for the amassed audience. Sociologically, the audience response was something of a hotbed. Shots of the Beatles breaking up were greeted with screams of excitement, while "the democrats take the White House" in the 1990s found its reply in a round of boos. What a bunch of miserable little republicans, eh?

The high points of the show came in the numbers performed between these history lessons. The group is at its finest when not performing it's own music, which probably says a lot about the talent of the band members as opposed to the abilities of their songwriters. The most stunning moment came when all five N’Sync boys came running on stage in hysterically huge afros and began to belt out a series of Jackson Five tunes, including early Hanson number "The Love You Save."  The other two historical songs, "That Thing You Do," from the Tom Hanks boy-band movie, and Kool and the Gang's "Celebrate" pretty much rocked the house, bringing N’Sync loving teenies and their parents together to sing these generation gap-bridgers. What to me sets N’Sync apart from the never-ending sea of today's boy bands has got to be the sense of humor displayed in moments like this, moments which prove that these guys don't take themselves too seriously. Can you imagine the members of the Backstreet boys dressed up as the Spice Girls? Me neither. But the image of N’Sync dressed in tight spandex and adorned with multi-hued wigs will not be one I soon forget.

Being a people watcher by nature, I always notice the reactions of people around me. Concerts are no exception to this rule: at both N’Sync and Hanson shows I have spent a lot of time contemplating what's going on around me. At this juncture, I feel the need to insert that the vibes at these two oft-compared yet totally dissimilar concerts was vastly different. Watching N’Sync reminded me of seeing Rocky Horror Picture Show performed in Pasadena over break. There are figures on the screen, ones who are perfect shining examples of their roles, and on the stage there are less-perfect characteratures, going through the motions yet never quite getting them right. That was N’Sync, trying to live up to unattainable, engineered perfection. The fans were decidedly entranced by both the reality and the vision, but they were to busy using their eyes to really use their ears. People stood stock still, sometimes waving hands or jumping up and down, but grooving to the music was rare. At the Hanson show, it was the norm. Each time I saw the three tykes from Oklahoma on stage, the entire audience moved with them, loving the music just as much as the blurry, Hanson shaped ants on stage. Both of these bands could stand to learn from each other -- N’Sync from Hanson in the realms of humanity and the composition of music and lyrics, and Hanson from N’Sync in the arena of showmanship.

The fact that really neither of the Amandas can name any of the N’Sync songs that the boys sang themselves says a bit about the group also. They just didn’t really make any of their songs memorable.  In fact, there isn't much about the band that's memorable, when you come down to it.  They remind me of a quote that was in Entertainment Weekly awhile ago describing the cast of American Pie: "they are so bland as to be appropriate to star in a sitcom based on the movie."  No offense to N'Sync fans, but as a general rule they come off as anamatronic marionettes as opposed to real people.  Each band like this, though, seems to have one member that serves as a decent excuse for its existence.  In the Backstreet Boys this member is sweetly southern Brian, and in N'Sync it's without a doubt J.C.  The guy has the energy of a two year old on speed, and no even as his bandmates went through their plastic-y motions, he was busing yucking it up by making faces at the audience and just genuinely seeming to enjoy himself.  The teenies may have wailed for Justin, but it was obvious to us that J.C. was both the backbone of the group and its greatest saving grace.

As much as they tried to keep up with the marketing dream that is a boyband they didn’t really seem pumped, or even awake for that matter, until they were doing songs that were not their own. While the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s numbers were spontaneous and exciting for both the audience and the group, the 90’s, a song by the group themselves did not bring on as much excitement. One would think that since the band is trying to convey a message about how the group was successful in the nineties they would do a number that scored high on the charts. Amanda B. was hoping for I Want You Back or Tearin’ Up My Heart; either would make sense because they were the most successful N'Sync singles, having appeared both on the charts and on MTV. But no, nobody ever listens to us.  Instead they opted for another song that if you weren’t an N’Sync fanatic you wouldn’t really know.  It was so unremarkable, in fact, that neither of the Amandas can remember what it was for the life of them. 

The whole premise of romantic ballads is to make the listener feel the romance in the song. Neither Amanda D. nor I could feel that way about any of the songs they sang the evil marketing man got in the way. We couldn’t help but think there was some fat, ugly old man smoking a cigar sitting backstage caustically laughing about how much more money he’s going to make when Justin looked hot in a close-up, driving the teenies to strategically placed concession stands that were hawking five dollar glossies of the boys. After a few upbeat songs at the beginning of the show, J.C. decided to ramble on about the ballad the group was going to sing, and interestingly enough, he used the exact same words to describe it both nights. Funny how that happened. Can't imagine why.

One thing Hanson has not done, thank heavens, is use the teenies while at a concert. N’Sync herded a few sheepish fan club members (in one interesting portion of the show, Joey seemed to be about to lick the girl which he was sitting next to... we doubted she would have minded) on-stage to serenade them during For the Girl Who Has Everything. The only reason we remember that song was because J.C. rambled about how we may have everything but we do not have a “spot right here onstage with us.” It was the perfect marketing set-up, putting even "are you in MOE" to shame.  Fans are going to line up for miles for the chance to get onstage with N’Sync.

The guys seemed to enjoy singing the song but who could believe them? Were those smiles on their faces hiding the terrible fear that if they didn’t make the fans feel good they would be out of a job? I do not want to sound harsh but it felt totally wrong. One of the most menacing moments of the shows came early on and speaks to this point occurred when Johnny Wright took the stage to introduce the band.  He started off talking about where fans had come from to see the show, but when speaking about N'Sync he mentioned that they were part of "a happy family" under his management. It's conceivable that I'm alone in this, but I seriously envisioned one of the boys trying to abandon the band and waking up with the severed head of a horse on his bed or something. It just seemed... scarily wrong.

One of the other marketing strategies the boys employed involved Justin serenading a girl in the front row. The set-up was that he did not want to sing the last few notes so Chris suggested that he sing to a girl, one girl. You would think these girls were starving by the way they surged forward. The first few sections were scrambling to be the “chosen one.” Justin held the girl’s hand and sang to her about how, “God Must Have Spent A Little More Time On You.” Meanwhile, his supposed girlfriend Ms. Booby…oops…. Britney Spears herself was sitting at the soundboard, tying up foot traffic and just in general annoying everyone in attendance.

For the encores the boys did their two most popular songs to date and a cover of Sailing complete with harnesses to fly across the audience. It's a good thing Hanson didn't pull this stunt, because the two Amandas couldn't have stood the fear of watching that precious cargo flying overhead.  Speaking of Hanson, the final encore of the show brought back some pretty big memories of the exceedingly phallic usage of water guns at the H shows last summer.  Instead of merely soaking the first few rows from the comfort and security of the stage, however, N'sync strapped themselves back into their sailing harnesses and clipped on huge supersoakers to drench the fans from the air.

The N'sync show was nothing short of a masterwork of psychology, anthropology, and choreography.  We all enjoyed the show for what it was, a performance put on by one of the finest boy bands out there, and we really thought the N'Sync folks seemed to enjoy singing and dancing.  It was the mechanical marketing ploys and mask like facades that scared us...

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