Twenty-two-year-old me wouldn't normally be caught dead at a show like Saturday night's NKOTBSB concert. I prefer my tunes a bit less poppy these days, but there I was squished up in the 300s of HSBC arena, in a homemade, puff paint-adorned "Backstreet's Back, Alright!" t-shirt with my twentysomething friends and a whole bunch of other former teenyboppers, screaming my lungs out for AJ, Brian, Howie, Nick (Kevin amicably left the group in 2006) and those other five guys whose names I don't know off the top of my head because I was never a New Kids on the Block fan. I blame the terrorists.
You see, when I was 13 my friends and I had tickets to a Summer 2001 Backstreet Boys show at HSBC Arena which the group rescheduled when AJ entered rehab--to September 18, 2001. (Can you see where this is going yet?) Our parents, in a fit of 9/11-induced insanity, would not allow us to attend the show fearful that al-Qaeda was going to bomb the Arena. Or Niagara Falls. Or something. I'm pretty sure we sat on a conference call, listening to "I Want It That Way" and consoling each other that, not to worry, the Boys would wait for us; Nick Carter wouldn't find his future wife in the crowd that evening. And then I went to high school, turned 14 and gained some taste. But when the opportunity presents itself to fulfill a childhood dream, how can you say no?
The acoustics were, as they probably were back in 2001, pretty bad. Then again, how can you compete with thousands of screaming girls? The opening act, Ashlyne Huff, was of the singer-dancer pop combination variety--"like a stripper trying to start a singing career" in the words of a friend. I seized the opportunity to save myself from cutting off my ears by hitting up the 200-level bar where I had your typical "OMG, I'm at a BSB concert and drinking!" moment, as I'm sure many an audience member did that night.
When you get right down to it, watching a bunch of middle-aged men perform choreographed dance numbers was, well, kind of funny. It's hard to imagine Brian Littrell isn't singing "Shape of My Heart" to anybody but you, when you can't stop wondering how he goes out on stage night after night without an intense feeling of self-loathing. But you know what? I finally got to sing along to "Larger Than Life" and do cheesy dance moves to "I'll Never Break Your Heart." I finally got to wear a shirt that said "I <3 AJ" on the back, and I finally got to wake up the next morning with a voice that alternated between a 72-year-old smoker and a prepubescent boy. The boy band infatuation may be long gone for 22-year-old me, but after Saturday night, twelve-year-old me is finally completely content. And that was worth every penny.
~ams
I've lost respect for this blog.
Yes! I, too had the "drinking @ a BSB concert" moment; and am guilty of purchasing an insanely priced t-shirt from the merch store. Definitely a blast from the past, and worth the sore throat and draft beer headache the next day! BSB 4E - haha
And I've gained respect for this blog.