I think we're at our best by the flicker by the light of the TV set.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Backstreet's Back, Playing Games With My Heart

When I told my best friend I had tickets to see the Backstreet Boys he asked, "Are they even relevant anymore?!" 

If you read my blog, you know I had a similar reaction upon being invited to attend this concert.

Perhaps the answer to my BFF's question is no, perhaps the Backstreet Boys are not relevant anymore. Perhaps most of us have moved on. The boy bands and pop music of the '90s and early '00s are mere memories of a distant past. For me, however, the Backstreet Boys will always be relevant. It's sad but true and I probably wouldn't have confessed this before the concert, partially because I didn't realize it was indeed true, but after watching them sing "Quit Playing Games with My Heart" (followed immediately by "As Long As You Love Me" *swoon*) something in me was re-born and I cannot deny my BSB devotion. This love is everlasting. I can't believe I just typed that.

Every female can relate. We've all had a boy band experience at one point - whether it be The Beatles, New Kids on the Block, NSYNC or the Backstreet Boys. Their songs, faces and smiles are imprinted on our hearts for eternity. It might be safe to assume Nick Carter was the first boy I ever loved. Things like this stay with a girl.

The Backstreet Boys entered my life at a pivotal time. I was 11-years-old. If memory serves me right, MTV's Total Request Live had just begun and BSB was all over it. My sister and I shared a VHS tape that we used to record music videos of our favorite boy bands (how ancient!). It started with the video for "Everybody" (fan comments scrolling across the bottom of the screen included!) I must have viewed it a thousand times.

So imagine the overwhelming rush of nostalgia that hit me like a slap in the face when these four guys who wooed me all those years ago appeared on stage and belted out "Everybody". Lucky enough to have landed floor seats eight rows back from the stage (my job rocks sometimes!), I was in the midst of a pit of women with their hands in the air singing, dancing and SCREAMING louder and louder every time one of the four remaining Boys thrust their pelvis.

I went back in time. I was suddenly 11-years-old again at my very first concert, BSB's first world tour. And without the slightest bit of shame I joined the mass of frenzied BSB fans. I threw my hands in the air, danced, sang and screamed when Nick Carter grabbed his junk. Lyrics to each of the songs that I hadn't heard in years spilled out of my mouth like glittery, poptastic, boy band puke. And I loved it. I knew every word to every song they sang, which included mostly the classics - "The Call," "Larger Than Life," "I Want it That Way," "If You Want it to Be Good Girl (Get Yourself a Bad Boy)," "Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely," "We've Got it Goin' On," "The One," and "I'll Never Break Your Heart" (which for years I wholeheartedly envisioned as my future wedding song).

Boy band mockery aside, they guys really did put on a good show. Despite their age and ridiculously cheesy female back-up dancers, they looked better than I've seen them in years. They sang flawlessly, their dance moves were actually enjoyable - age appropriate and not too over the top - and they seemed to be having a blast, thanking the crowd of thousands for being the best fans they could ask for during their 17-year existence. And folks, Nick Carter's still got it. His voice was less whiny than I remember, he's definitely lost weight (remember his fatty stage), and while I could do without his baggy, bleached jeans and gi-normous ego, he's the same adorable teeny bopper I fell in love with back in 1998.

After all that complaining about being suckered into purchasing a ticket, I feel refreshed, renewed, like an important chunk of my heart and soul has been replaced. The Backstreet Boys forced me to recognize some things about myself that I tried to ignore. Once a Backstreet Boy fan, always a Backstreet Boy fan. Thanks, guys. I needed that.

No comments:

Post a Comment